Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 73302 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 367(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73302 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 367(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
I ordered a seltzer with lime. I needed to keep my mind sharp, but having a drink gave me something to do with my hands while I walked around.
I confirmed the layout I’d seen in the schematics and numerous videos I’d watched of people enjoying themselves in the various areas of the casino. I knew my information was solid, but it was always different to walk through a place in real time.
I played the slots for a few minutes to give myself a chance to observe. Then I found a blackjack table where I’d be right in the line of a camera. For once, I was hoping to get caught instead of trying to avoid it.
I’d always been able to count cards, and over time, I’d learned plenty of other tricks and strategies to give myself an advantage. I’d used my skills to put myself through college. Back when I was far too young to be around the kind of men he played with, my dad had brought me with him to his weekly poker games. He made sure I watched him carefully, and eventually, we worked out a system where I gave him signals as I watched the gameplay. By fifteen, I was joining the games myself. I hated the stuffy, smoky rooms and the crude, unnerving men who took part in the games, but the extra money we earned gave me opportunities I wouldn’t have had otherwise, like a solid education and the chance to go after men just like the ones my father took money from.
I was anxious to get on with my investigation. I wanted to be taken into the back rooms of the casino, where I would demand a meeting with Rafael, but I couldn’t be too obvious. The last thing I needed was for Rafael to see my suspicious behavior and guess I was law enforcement. I needed him to think I was playing a far different game than the one I was.
I started out only using my ability halfheartedly. I let myself lose a hand, then win, then lose. I bowed out of that game, walked away, got another drink, and joined another table, one I’d specifically picked because the people around it were either several drinks in or gave off an air of inexperience.
I pretended to study my hand, making sure I looked as perplexed as the woman next to me, who needed a grip on the table to keep herself upright. What the hell was she doing playing with money in this state?
The man across from me made an outrageous bet. Was he bluffing or just arrogant as fuck?
I played conservatively as I observed everyone and got a feel for the table. I didn’t try to win at first, but I didn’t lose big either.
Slowly, I began letting myself win, and my chips started piling up. When no one questioned my winning streak, I started using my counting abilities more openly, or openly to someone you knew what to watch for. The people at my table had no idea what I was up to. But the dealer might, and if security was watching, they would eventually catch on. If Rafael was watching, he absolutely would. By this point, I’d studied him enough to know that while he was wild, he wasn’t the fool a lot of people took him for. I’d studied him so much, I was afraid I might have become a little obsessed.
I cashed out after winning big to the disgust of the others at the table.
Forcing myself not to move too fast, I walked around one of the high-limit rooms, watching and scoping out my next move. It didn’t take me long to find it.
There was a table right in line of sight of a camera where the players clearly knew what they were doing. These were people who would be mad as hell if they suspected me of cheating. Security should be able to catch me if I made myself a little more obvious, but having someone at the table call me out as a cheater would be even better.
I made my way over, waited till the spot opened up, and joined in.
It didn’t take as long as I expected for one of the men at the table to get suspicious of how easily I won. After a few hands, I could tell he was watching me closely, and so was the dealer.
I had to toe the line between being too obvious and being so good no one could catch me. My winnings kept stacking up. I could tell more of my opponents were getting irritated. The first man who’d clocked me grew red in the face and finally slammed his hand down on the table. “You’re cheating,” he yelled.
The dealer held up his hands. “Let’s all calm down.”