The Dice That Tamed A Tyrant

esenting my cash, was grow

e jeered, stacking the chips neatly. "

a shrill sound that

practice sessions with a worn-out craps layout she'd kept from her Ve

as t

ues Sophia drilled into me coming ba

wall, just so, and c

later, anoth

went through

d for a split second

ings back on

oint, ano

anot

His chip stack, once a proud tower

ed, his voice losing its earlier confidence.

f, to win back control throu

quick, discreet movement.

ad, sitting beside me looking pale, could

our 'Vegas nest egg.' Clean him out, honey

y when he saw the sum. A silent questi

er casino days, some from smart investments she'd guided me on. It was

Tony," I said, my voice

ous. "Where's a grease monkey like

bigger than I thoug

wasn't winning every single roll, that would be too obvious, but

d cards. It was about skill, about understanding probabilities and influencing the outcome through practic

redder. He was losing, a

ars of Tony's cash. The atmosphere around the table was electric. The other

light in his eyes, something I hadn't seen

nched. "Tony, maybe that's enough for tonigh

e table, making the chips jump. "It's