The dealer shuffles the cards and places them into the automatic dealing machine. She closes the top of the device and presses the button with her long, manicured finger. The machine spits out two cards: one for Avery and one for Jackson. Avery lifts up the corner of her card and peeks at the number—it's a nine. She has no idea what Jackson has, but she knows that nine isn't very good.

She calls, and Jackson calls too. The dealer passes her another card, and Avery glances at it—another nine. Together, she was eighteen. It's not a bad hand, but it's not twenty-one. Still, if she gets another card, her hand might go over twenty-one. She signals to the dealer that she's done, and Jackson does the same.

"Okay, please show us your cards," the dealer says.

Avery tosses her cards into the middle of the table. A small crowd has started to form around them; everyone seems eager to watch Jackson play. They go quiet as they wait to see what Jackson has. With a casual flick of his wrist, he throws the cards on top of Avery's he has twenty-one.

They play another round, and Avery gets only sixteen, but Jackson gets a perfect twenty-one. They play over and over, and each time Jackson wins with twenty-one while Avery's cards never add up to anything more than nineteen. The audience seems to get bored, and they begin to talk among themselves.

"Jackson really is a gambling god," a man says, with admiration and respect. "I just don't understand why he'd waste his time playing such an obvious rookie."

"Don't you have eyes, man," his friend says. "Do you see whom he's playing? She's stunning. I'd love to have the chance to play with such beauty. If it were me, I might even let her win a few hands."

"Pshh, Jackson doesn't seem to care," the first man says. "He's absolutely merciless with her."

They play a few more rounds, and Jackson's hands go from twenty-ones to some twenties and even one nineteen. Still, he wins every round. After their tenth game, he taps his cards impatiently against the table.

"I think that's been enough practice, Mrs. Clifford," he says. "Can we begin the real games now?"

"Of course," Avery says. "Remember, best two out of three wins."

Jackson nods, and the dealer takes the cards and loads them back into the machine. She deals, and Avery peeks at her first card. She fights the urge to smile—it's terrible. She calls and checks her next card, finding that it's even worse than the last. With a bored yawn, Jackson flips his cards over revealing twenty. Avery does the same, and the audience groans with sympathy; she only has fifteen.

"Could we play with another set of cards?" Avery asks. "Maybe a set that doesn't have the seahorses on them. I'm starting to feel like they might be unlucky for me."

She shoots a meaningful look at Jackson and waits to see how he'll react. Though his posture is casual, there's a slight wrinkle between his flawless eyebrows—it's his tell. Avery smiles innocently at the dealer.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but we only have the seahorse cards," she says. "They're exclusive to this casino."

Evan's deep voice echoes over the crowd, "I happen to have a brand new deck with me."

Avery turns in time to see the crowd part to make room for Evan.He strides toward the table with calm confidence. He's wearing his signature three-piece black suit, and his eyes flash with power. If Avery didn't know better, she'd think he was the casino's owner. He tosses the deck onto the table and smiles at Avery with something like affection.

It takes her a moment to tear her eyes away, but when she does, the dealer is pushing the cards away with the tip of her manicured finger. She wrinkles her nose as if the cards smell bad and casts a frosty glare at Avery.

"We don't allow outside cards here," she says. "It's a basic casino policy."

"Why's that?" Avery asks, raising her voice so the entire crowd can hear. "Is there something special about the seahorse cards?"

Jackson bites his lip and looks at the large crowd. He shrugs and takes a sip of his wine.

"It doesn't matter to me," he says. "Just use the new cards."

The dealer pouts and takes the cards out of their box. She shuffles them and takes the seahorse deck out of the machine. Then she shoots one of the cards at Avery. Avery peeks at the card—it's a six. She calls and Jackson does the same. The next card is an eight, bringing her total to fourteen. She calls again. She looks at the third card, and her heart hammers in her chest—it's a seven.

The dealer asks them to show their hands, and Avery calmly flips the cards over. Everyone gasps when they see she has twenty-one. Jackson smiles and tosses his cards on top of hers: he only has twenty.

"Well, it turns out he has a soft spot for beauty after all," the man behind Avery says. "He just let her win that hand."

Jackson raises his eyebrows and looks at her across the table. She shrugs and smiles as if she's surprised and pleased. He gestures for the next round to begin, and the dealer gives them new cards. Avery calls the first round and then the second. The dealer asks them to reveal their cards, and she shows her twenty confidently. Jackson laughs and flips his cards over, revealing another twenty.

"Are you sure you want to keep playing?" she asks sweetly.

"Why wouldn't I?" Jackson says, crossing his legs. "The game's just starting to get interesting."

Avery wipes her palms on her skirt and smiles. This last hand will be crucial. The dealer shuffles the cards and loads them into the machine.

Jessica leans against the balcony railing and stares at the blackjack table below. Avery has been playing with Jackson for over an hour, and Jessica is starting to get impatient. She twirls her long red hair around her finger and sighs dramatically.

"Can't they hurry up," she complains. "Avery is nowhere near our little trap."

"Patience," James says with a small smirk. "You should know that gambling is all about waiting for the right moment to play your hand."

Jessica groans and slumps against the banister. She's not sure which is worse—waiting for Avery to move or listening to James make bad gambling puns. She looks at the chandelier and notices that Gabrielle is standing under it. She seems to be trying to avoid the intensity of the crowd. Jessica smiles and straightens up.

"You know, it's not too late to change the plan," she says. "I think I hate Gabrielle even more than I hate her sister. And when else will I get an opportunity as good as this."

"It must be a difficult thing to be so hated by you, Miss Clifford," James says, his voice thick with irony. "Though even with all your charms, you must know that there are plenty of people who dislike you too."

Jessica scowls and says, "You know James, sometimes I wonder whose side you're really on."

"I'm on the side of truth," he says.

"Whatever," Jessica says. "Just change the plan."

Avery plays with the edges of her cards as if she's reluctant to reveal them. Jackson throws his cards into the middle of the table and the audience gasps—he only has seventeen. It's the lowest hand he's had since he and Avery began playing.

"Come on, lady, show us your cards," someone shouts.

"I'll show you the cards," Avery says. "But first, I'd like to ask Mr. Oliver a few questions. Don't you all find it a bit strange that his luck changed so quickly? He was doing so well, and then we switched the deck and now look, he only has seventeen."

Jackson laughs and says, "I know you're new to this, Mrs. Clifford, but I thought you understood how gambling worked—sometimes you're lucky, and sometimes you're not."

"I think it's more than luck," Avery says, slowly standing. "I know I'm not an expert, but I find it incredibly odd that you got so many twenty-one when we first started playing. The odds of that happening must be a million to one. Stranger still, your luck changed so dramatically as soon as we switched the deck."

"Are you implying that I've created?" Jackson asks. "Don't be ridiculous—the cards have nothing to do with this. I'm an experienced gambler, and you're just a novice."

"I'm not implying anything," Avery says, raising her voice so everyone can hear her. "I know you cheated."

"And just how did I do that?" Jackson asks.

"It has to do with the seahorse cards," Avery says. "I think they're magnetic. The dealer puts them in the machine and the machine sorts them so you get high numbers and your opponents always get the lowest numbers. When we started playing, the cards were already a bit old—they'd been used in another game. But the magnetic strips still worked. The more we played, the weaker the magnets got. That's why your hands started getting worse."

The casino is deadly silent, and then the spectators begin to whisper and gossip among themselves. Avery listens, hoping the other gamblers will take her side.

"I can't believe she's calling Jackson a cheater in his own casino," a man says. "That takes some nerve."

"Honestly, she makes a good point, but what does it matter?" another man says. "This isn't business, and it's just some fun and games. Who cares if we lose a little money?"

"I don't know," a woman says. "Casinos are the Oliver family business. If they're willing to cheat at these games, who knows where else they'll cheat. It makes me nervous about doing business with them, that's for sure."

Jackson stands and leans casually against the table, sliding one hand into his pocket. His diamond earring sparkles and glitters in the dim light. He smiles and waves his hand through the air, and the crowd falls silent.

"That's a very serious accusation, but where's your proof?" he asks. "I have to say, and I'm insulted. I invited you here and agreed to play your game and follow your rules, and now you're accusing me of cheating?"

"It's easy enough to prove," Avery snaps. "We just need some seahorse cards and a magnet."

Before Andrew can reply, the boat rocks dangerously to one side. Chips and cards slide across the tables, and men and women stumble into each other. Avery grabs the blackjack table and looks around in a panic. A moment later, the boat rocks to the other side. The crystal chandeliers overhead swing violently from side to side, and the glass pendants clatter as they slam into each other.

One chandelier seems to be swaying more than the others. The boat rocks again, and a pendant the size of Avery's arm falls off and shatters against the floor. People scream and dive under the card tables. Avery screams too—Gabrielle is standing underneath the chandelier, frozen with terror.

Avery sprints across the room and shoves her sister as hard as she can. Gabrielle goes flying, and Avery falls over. Another crystal pendant falls and crashes just inches from her face.