Chapter 74
Raven
"The game is simple," Miles announced, his voice carrying that specific tone men use when they think they're being charming. "Three cards—two black, one Queen of Hearts." He demonstrated by showing me the cards, then turning them face down. "I shuffle them around, you pick which one is the Queen. If you win, I just want to add you on social media. If I win..." He let the implication hang in the air.
Behind me, Maya shifted nervously. "Careful, Raven. He's really good."
I examined my nails, deliberately projecting boredom. "Three cards? That's barely a game. It's just a thirty-three percent chance."
Miles' smile faltered slightly. "Most people find it challenging enough."
"I'm not most people." I leaned forward, meeting his gaze directly. "Make it seven cards."
"Seven?" His eyebrows shot up. "That's a significantly harder game."
"That's the point," I replied, voice dripping with condescension. "Seven is my lucky number."
Maya touched my shoulder. "Are you sure? That's like a fourteen percent chance. We could lose."
I smiled, memories of a particular night in Macau flashing through my mind—seven straight wins with seven-card hands against a Russian arms dealer who'd bet his yacht, his villa, and finally his life. "Trust me, Maya. Seven is very lucky for me."
Miles seemed annoyed that his showcase was being hijacked. "Fine. Seven cards it is." He removed four more black cards from the deck. "Don't say I didn't warn you when you lose."
"Why seven specifically?" Maya whispered.
"Because," I replied, loud enough for Miles to hear, "the average human brain can't track more than seven moving objects simultaneously." I smiled sweetly. "Fortunately, I'm not average."
Miles' jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. Good. Insecurity makes people sloppy.
"Let's begin," he said, spreading the cards. He briefly showed me the Queen of Hearts among six black cards, then flipped them face down and began shuffling.
His hands moved with impressive speed, cards sliding across the table in elaborate patterns. To an untrained eye, it would appear impossible to track. But to me, it was like watching a novice pickpocket in slow motion.
There it was—at precisely 0.8 seconds into his routine, he executed a classic top-palm sleight of hand, sliding the Queen into his right sleeve cuff while maintaining the illusion of seven cards on the table. Amateur.
"Jesus," Maya muttered behind me. "I've completely lost track already."
After watching for exactly three seconds, I closed my eyes and leaned back, feigning disinterest.
"Giving up already, Raven?" Miles taunted, his hands still dancing across the tabletop. "Closing your eyes won't help your odds."
I could practically feel his smirk without looking. After thirty more seconds of unnecessary flourishes, he stopped.
"Time to choose," he announced triumphantly.
Maya leaned close, frantically whispering: "I think it might be the third one... No, wait, maybe the fifth? I completely lost track."
I opened my eyes lazily. "I've made my selection."
Miles gestured toward the seven cards arranged in a neat row. "By all means."
Instead of reaching for any card on the table, my hand shot out with surgical precision. Two fingers delicately pinched the edge of Miles' right sleeve cuff, and with one swift motion, I extracted the Queen of Hearts that had been hiding there.
The look on Miles' face was worth more than any high-stakes pot I'd ever won.
"Too slow," I said, casually flicking the card onto the table. "That sleight-of-hand was so clumsy even a novice pickpocket would be embarrassed. You palmed the Queen at exactly 0.8 seconds into your shuffle, and your execution left half the white edge visible at your cuff."
His mouth opened and closed without producing sound. Maya gasped behind me.
"If it were me," I continued, picking up the Queen and manipulating it between my fingers with fluid, hypnotic movements, "I'd execute the palm in 0.3 seconds, coupled with a retention vanish to create the illusion that all cards remain visible. The card would disappear into a French drop, not an obvious sleeve hide." I demonstrated the move, making the Queen seemingly vanish then reappear.
"Most importantly, I'd ensure the concealment was absolutely undetectable, even under scrutiny."
I leaned closer, lowering my voice to a near-whisper. "The fatal flaw of mediocre magicians is assuming the audience is always one step behind. Sometimes, Miles, you're playing with someone several steps ahead."
His face had transitioned from confident to flushed with embarrassment to unnaturally pale. He kept shaking his head slowly, eyes wide with disbelief.
"This isn't... Tyler didn't..." he muttered, then more clearly: "Tyler, that idiot, he never mentioned his target was a fucking card prodigy."
I stood up, smoothing my dress. "I believe that concludes our little game."
"Where did you learn to..." Miles started, then faltered.
"Let's just say I've played higher-stakes games than social media follows." I turned to Maya, whose expression hovered between shock and delight. "I think I need another drink. Coming?"