Page 58 of Princess of Thieves

“Ante up,” LJ growls, and throws a glance my way. “I don’t want this to take all night.”

The three remaining players exchange glances, their focus sharpening, and I watch them take in their cards. LJ strokes his beard, which maybe is some kind of tell. Rob cracks his knuckles, his grin widening—but whether that’s genuine good cards or a bluff is impossible to tell. Tuck, with his easygoing smile, looks like he’s just along for the ride, though his steady hands say otherwise.

Rob leans forward, tossing chips into the pot with a flourish. “Call,” he says, his voice thick with bravado, clearly riding high off the last hand. He thinks he’s got this locked down. Typical Rob.

LJ and Tuck quietly follow suit, and the next few hands become a tense dance: no one speaking, brows furrowed, the only sound the occasional tap on the table or flick of a cardturning over. Check, raise, fold—no one willing to give away too much even as chips move back and forth across the felt. Throughout, I start to pick up on their patterns. LJ’s conservative, folding more often than not even when it seems like he might have good cards. Tuck raises just enough to make them both think. Rob, ever the risk-taker, barrels forward with a hefty bet.

“I see you,” Rob declares, cocky as ever, pushing his chips in like it’s all but done. He flashes me a wink, and maybe it’s the fact that it’s his fourth beer, or the fact that his hot streak can’t continue forever, but somehow I can tell he’s overconfident.

LJ stays cool and calls, but Tuck’s brow furrows for the first time. He hesitates—just enough to make me wonder if he’s nervous—then folds.

LJ reveals his hand: a flush. Rob’s smirk vanishes as he flips over his cards—a measly pair of fives. He tries to laugh it off. “Ah, hell. Should’ve known better.”

“Yep,” LJ says simply, scooping up the pot. Rob throws his hands up in mock surrender. “I was bluffing,” he adds, as if that makes the loss sting less.

“What else is new?” mutters Will.

Now it’s just LJ and Tuck, and the table feels smaller, the stakes higher. LJ’s face is stone, his movements calculated. Tuck’s got that same easy smile, but his eyes are sharper now, watching every twitch in LJ’s stoic expression.

They trade a few hands, no clear winner emerging yet. LJ checks, then raises, his fingers tapping lightly on his chips, his poker face admirably blank. Tuck calls without hesitation, a smirk creeping across his lips as if he’s seeing something the rest of us aren’t—which, admittedly, I’m not, because I still barely follow the rules.

The final hand comes, and you can feel the weight of it. LJ makes a hefty bet—too much to be casual, too little to screamoverconfidence. Tuck studies him. For a second, I think he’s going to fold and give LJ the win. But no. He pushes his entire stack forward. All in.

LJ’s mouth firms into a hard line. “Awfully confident, aren’t you there, pup?”

Tuck’s ears go red. “I know what I’m doing,” he says, not meeting LJ’s eyes.

“Hey,” Rob says, tipping his drink at Tuck. “I, for one, endorse a Tuck victory. God knows he’ll enjoy the jackpot.”

“Call.” LJ’s jaw tightens just enough for me to catch it. He’s good, but not invincible. With a curt nod, the cards hit the table.

Tuck’s got a full house—aces and tens. LJ’s hand is strong—a straight—but it’s not strong enough.

For the first time tonight, I see LJ crack. He exhales sharply through his nose and slumps his massive shoulders. “Well played,” he concedes, tipping his head toward Tuck.

Tuck stares down at his winning hand as if he can’t quite believe it. His smile stretches wider, and he lets out a low chuckle. “Damn, didn’t think I had it in me.”

Will ambles back to the table with his fresh martini and surveys the scene. “I leave for five minutes, and Tuck of all people takes the pot? The world’s upside down.”

Tuck grins, shrugging like he didn’t just pull off the biggest win of the night. He throws a look my way, but quickly glances away.

“Way to go, man,” Rob says, giving Tuck a playful shove in the shoulder. “You deserve it more than any of us.”

“Well, I...I don’t know about that.” Tuck swallows hard, licks his lips. Something feels off, a nervous energy I can’t quite put my finger on.

“Hey,” I say, feeling the need to come to Tuck’s defense. “You won, fair and square, right?” I gesture at the rest of them with my drink. “Go get him whatever he won. Stop being sore losers.”

Will laughs. Rob chuckles, glancing at Tuck. Even LJ rumbles out a short sound of amusement. All of them stand around a bit awkwardly, a beat too long, and I realize there’s something I’m missing here.

I narrow my eyes. “What’s going on here?”

Will recomposes himself with a cough. “Nothing, nothing,” he says, eyes flashing. “Just a very deserving winner, that’s all.”

“What do you mean?” I look from Will to Rob to LJ. “What did you guys—”

Before I can finish my thought, LJ grabs me by the waist and lifts me back up to where I was sitting. He turns to Tuck.

“Fair and square. Like she says.” He turns his deep gaze to me, then back to Tuck. “So long as she agrees, anyway.”

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