The Player, The Thief and The Broken Heart - Chapter Sixty-Nine - Back in the Game

Steve figured he was bound to lose at some point. He'd been decent at poker when it came to going up against friends and co-workers, but in here he was so far out of his league he was in the wrong sport. It was a miracle he'd lasted so long. Not that he hadn't come back from nothing before. In 2003 he'd already been short and went even shorter only for stock markets to rally like crazy. Then he'd looked at some charts for Apple and figured this iPhone thing they were rumoured to be coming out with would top even what they were about to do with MP3 players. He bet the farm and won it all back.

In his hand he held the Jack and a two of Spades. The first card to turn up was lucky seven of the same suit. Yushenko must have had something good too, because he tossed four red chips – worth a hundred grand each – into the middle. Steve matched the bet. He held his breath and watched the dealer turn over yet another spade. A three. If someone had the four and five, they'd be laughing.

Lachlan upped the bid, tossing another three hundred large into the kitty. With this hand dealt, everyone seemed to hold something promising, but no sure winner yet. Steve watched each of them up their bids in smaller and smaller increments.

The dealer turned over a fourth card. Another spade. Steve noticed Yushenko's leg twitch and like the previous player, he matched the bet. Steve matched too. He had a flush, not a bad hand at all, but it was possible someone else at the table had a straight flush or a hand with higher cards than his.

The atmosphere was as tense as a playoff game that had gone into overtime. The final card turned over was a four of spades. Lachlan folded. So did the old Frenchwoman and the Chinese dude. Le Bon shifted a teetering stack forward an inch, narrowed his eyes, chewed on his bottom lip, then tossed his cards down. "Fold," he said. Steve suspected the Englishman's dithering had been a ruse for Yushenko's benefit and he'd probably caught sight of the twitch as well.

Yushenko leaned closer to Steve and said in a low voice, "May as well go all in – you will be broke soon anyway."

Steve glared ahead, channelling the same sullen look he used to get on his face as a little kid whenever his mother or a teacher scolded him about something stupid. The man had no fucking clue what was about to hit him. "If you insist." He pushed his remaining chips into the middle of the table.

Yushenko flopped his first card and Steve felt himself freeze solid. An ace of spades. A second later he melted again and nearly toppled onto the floor. Yushenko's two of hearts was the wrong suit for a straight flush. Thank fucking God.

"Didn't learn from the last time, did you." Steve dared not meet Yushenko's eyes as he threw his own cards down, wrapped his arms around the chips and scooped them closer. So much adrenaline surged in his body he felt like he was about to rocket straight out through the window across from him and soar out over the strip. He was back in the game!

Organizing his winning chips into neat stacks, he glanced up at Benson. Benson was watching two hotel security managers squeezing past the young French chick with the red hair, who was passed out at the end of the bar. Damn, that Robbie and Eddie were brazen to put it mildly. And shorter than he remembered them being. Benson quirked his brows at Steve. He was about to take a sip of ice water to soothe his nerves and set his glass down again. He didn't want to have to go back to that restroom any time soon.