Markham let out a roar of laughter before whipping off the lid of the table. With a theatrical flourish, he conjured a scrappy cloth pouch out of thin air and swept his arms wide.
With a swift scoop, he raked every single betting card on the table straight into the bag.
This time, he'd hit the jackpot.
His grin was so wide it nearly split his face in two, while the people who had wagered on him stood there looking like they'd just attended their own funerals. Pale as paper—some were even groaning out of sheer frustration.
What the hell just happened?
A single match dragged on for over two hours?
They'd stood around the whole time just watching, doing nothing useful.
And in the end? They still lost.
None of them had even realized how much time had passed. Every eye had been locked on that board, captivated by the ruthless elegance of every move. Not one person had broken free of the spell.
