It was Crown & Ivy Bar's opening today. Whiskey flowed freely, cigars smoldered in elegant holders, and the space buzzed with the energy of exclusivity. Tonight, the doors were open wider than usual—a calculated move to create a spectacle.
Ashley slipped inside, her arrival anything but grand. Disguised as a commoner, she ignored her mother's stern warnings and pulled the hood of her sweatshirt lower, ensuring the mask over her face stayed snug. She moved like a shadow, her sharp eyes scanning the room.
It didn't take long to spot him.
Her pace quickened, cutting through the crowd with purpose. Reaching her target, she didn't hesitate. PANG! Her palm met his shoulder with force.
"Damn it! Who's looking to die tonight?" The boy spun around, fist clenched and ready to strike, his expression dark with annoyance.
Before he could throw the punch, Ashley caught his wrist mid-swing, her grip firm. She leaned in, her voice low but cutting. "If you're going to slip away from your guards, at least try to be less obvious about it."
The boy froze, recognition flickering across his face.
It was Liam Moretti—her cousin.
''Oh, my pretty cousin is here!'' Liam nonchalantly sat back in his seat. ''Ashley, look who's here with me today?'' Giggling, he pointed to the man in a white shirt next to him.
''Zane Archer''. Ashley was faslbergasted.
Zane was their best friend but rather a sophisticated person unlike Ashely who was a wildcat and Liam a troublemaker.
Settling for the drinks, Ashley asked, ''So Zane, how did this monkey drag you along here?''
''We heard that there was the biggest bet being placed on a game''. Zane explained.
''Let's go!'' Liam got up first. ''It's almost time''.
At the heart of the commotion was a secluded velvet-covered table in the back corner. A crowd had gathered, eyes glittering with anticipation as two players faced off in a game of craps.
The stakes were higher than usual.
On the table, in a glass case illuminated by a soft amber glow, rested a bottle of Château Étoile 1820, the rarest and most expensive wine in existence. It shimmered like liquid gold, promising the taste of immortality—or so the legend went.
The crowd pressed in closer, clutching wads of cash and placing side bets with dealers who were frantically jotting names and numbers on chalkboards.
Liam whispered something in one of the player's ears and he instantly withdrew.
Now Ashley entered the match.
At one end of the table stood Alistair clad in black from head to toe, a cap cast a shadow over his concealed face, adding an air of mystery to his imposing presence.
Whispers were passing around that this man was a seasoned gambler with a silver tongue and sharper instincts as he had won every game tonight.
Opposite him was Ashely who was a regular in these circles but rarely played for such high stakes. Tonight, she had a gleam in her eye that hinted at more than just winning the wine.
The dealer, a pale, nervous man in a crimson vest, cleared his throat. "The pot is set. Final bets!"
The moment Alistair recognized those ocean eyes, his lips curled into a smirk. "Ladies first," he drawled, pushing the dice toward Ashley with two fingers.
Ashley picked them up with precision. She rolled the dice between her fingers like a predator testing its prey, then glanced at Alistair. "Don't blink, Mr. Grim Reaper. You might miss the magic."
She tossed the dice.
Alistair liked the name she gave him.
The crowd collectively held its breath as the dice tumbled across the felt table, spinning and bouncing.
One landed on 4, the other on 6—a total of 10.
Cheers erupted from one side of the crowd as bets shifted and new wagers were hastily scribbled down. Ashely stepped back, arms crossed, her expression hidden but for the slight upturn of her lips under the mask.
Alistair cracked his knuckles and grabbed the dice. "Not bad, sweetheart. But let me show you how it's done."
He leaned forward and then rolled. The dice tumbled, one landing on 6 and the other precariously spinning on its edge before settling on 3. 9.
Groans and cheers rippled through the onlookers as the tension heightened. The ladies and men whispered who was going to win.
The crowd hushed as the dealer raised his hand. "Last roll. Winner takes all!"
Ashley and Alistair exchanged a charged look but Ashley couldn't get a better look at him due to his cap.
She picked up the dice one last time, her movements deliberate. She kissed the tips of her fingers before flicking the dice across the table.
They rolled... bounced... and landed. 12.
The crowd erupted in cheers, some throwing their hats in the air, others groaning at their losses. Ashley stepped forward, her hand steady as she lifted the glass case and claimed her prize.
Alistair chuckled, clapping his hands. "Looks like I underestimated you, sweetheart. That bottle's going to taste even sweeter now, isn't it?"
Ashley tilted her head, holding the bottle up to the light. "Oh, don't worry, Mr. Grim Reaper," she said. "I'll make sure you get a sip—if you tell me your name.
Before continuing their conversation, Liam and Zane suddenly grabbed Ashley and ran away.