The dealer slid a fresh card toward Joel with a smooth, practiced flick.
Joel reached for it, but then something caught his eye. It was barely a twitch with the flick of the wrist.
A second card tucked beneath the one the dealer dealt, expertly palmed and switched at the last second. It was subtle and precise, but he was not mistaken and clearly saw it.
His blood boiled instantly.
The world seemed to slow, the sounds of chips clinking and glasses clattering around him fading into the background. It was like watching the trick in slow motion, clear as day to him, even if no one else noticed.
That bastard swapped the cards.
His breath caught for a second, then his chair screeched against the marble floor as he shot up.
With a sharp snap of his wrist, Joel flung his cards across the table, the pieces clung to the dealer's suit, then scattered to the floor.
"You cheating motherfucker!" he shouted, pointing straight at the dealer.
The room reacted in an instant. The quiet buzz of the casino died like someone had hit mute on the whole floor.
The dealer's smile froze on his face, flickering for a brief second before he straightened, his hands subtly moving toward the underside of the table.
Joel noticed that too and he won't let it happen
"Oh no, you don't," he immediately lunged, his hand shot forward and slammed down on the dealer's wrist just before it disappeared under the table.
"Ah-ah," Joel growled, gripping tightly. "We're not doing that."
The dealer froze, his composure faltering as Joel leaned in, his voice now low but venomous.
"You think I wouldn't notice?" he hissed. "I saw that swap clear as day. You think I'm some drunk idiot with more money than sense?"
The dealer opened his mouth, about to deny it, but Joel didn't let up.
"You really out here cheating in the open like this? I thought this place had standards. I mean, come on! With those fancy walls, gold-plated chips, and you're still pulling back-alley tricks with your sleeves?" Joel gestured mockingly at the cards.
"Sir, I assure you, everything here is fair…"
"Fair?" Joel barked a sharp laugh. "Call the manager. Or someone who doesn't make a living pretending to be clever while failing miserably at it."
The dealer stiffened. "There's no need to escalate things, sir…"
"Escalate? Oh, I'm not even warmed up yet."
Joel suddenly slammed both palms onto the table with a loud bang, making the chips jump and rattle.
A startled yelp came from the lady beside him as she tipped over in her seat, landing awkwardly on the carpet.
The man in the suit was also startled and stood up instantly, he saw the woman with a frown on her face still on the floor, he tried pulling her up but his hands got swatted away.
"I don't care anyway…" he muttered, clearly wanting no part in whatever mess was brewing. He hurried away, leaving the woman on the floor who was staring intently at Joel.
She got up after a few seconds, and left with a look of contempt. Leaving Joel and the now pale-faced dealer at the center of attention.
Joel not noticing the others had left, narrowed his eyes and said coldly, "Now, once again. Call. The. Manager!"
A small group of staff began to gather from outside the room, unsure of what to do.
Moments later, a well-dressed man in a charcoal-gray suit stepped inside, the sheen of authority clear in his confident stride.
"Good evening, gentlemen," the man said with a diplomatic smile. "I'm the floor manager here. May I ask what seems to be the issue?"
Joel turned to him sharply. "Your dealer here is swapping cards in the middle of a game like it's a parlor trick."
The manager raised his hands gently. "Sir, please, let's not make a scene. I assure you, we take these accusations seriously. Everything is recorded. We will investigate…"
"Investigate?" Joel cut him off. "The guy practically played his dirty hands in front of my eyes. I don't need an investigation, I need an apology and my lost money!"
Still trying to keep the peace, the manager gestured to the security to stay back. "I understand, Mr…?"
"Nardino," Joel answered with pride, the name carried weight. The manager's eyes subtly widened in recognition, even though he didn't have a damn clue who that was. But only wealthy and rich people are allowed in this establishment.
"Ah, yes, of course. Mr. Nardino." His tone instantly shifted to more courteous and attentive. "You are absolutely right to speak up. We value our patrons. Please, allow us a moment to handle this."
But then the dealer leaned close to the manager and whispered something in his ear.
Joel didn't hear the words, but he saw the look.
It was subtle, but shady at the same time, like the kind of shift in body language Joel had learned to spot from years of being around liars, crooks, and con men.
Joel's expression twisted, he snarled. "You rat-faced weasel!"
Without waiting another second, he shoved the dealer hard, pushing him away from the manager.
The man stumbled backward with a surprised yelp and landed flat on his ass, his body jerking as he hit the floor.
The small crowd outside gasped looking through the slightly opened door, but it wasn't just the fall that caught their attention.
Something detached and rolled across the marble tiles.
A dark patch of synthetic hair, a wig just slid down the floor for a couple of seconds until it reached the wall.
The man was bald.
Shiny-headed baldness.
The kind that glistened under casino lights.
A beat of silence fell over the area, broken only by a muffled chuckle from a spectator outside the room.
Joel stared for a second before smirking. "Oh, that's why your tricks were sloppy. You're too busy gluing your scalp every morning instead of practicing your cards."
The dealer's hands shot forward, clutching his wig on the floor, his face clearly flustered, trying to press it back into place. But it wouldn't stick back to his head.
It only sat there, tilted and stubborn, like it had given up too.
The manager stood frozen nearby, his face twisting into quiet horror. He wasn't just watching one man fall apart, this was a full-blown embarrassment for the whole establishment.
"I'll have him removed immediately," he said quickly. "And you, Mr. Nardino, will be offered a complimentary table and drinks for the evening. This was… unacceptable on our part."
Joel dusted off his sleeves, and nodded profusely. "Damn right it was."