Jake

Jake lit a cigarette with one hand, the other resting on your waist like a silent claim.You’re my lucky charm,” he always said with a crooked grin, gold tooth flashing under dim lights.Everyone in the room knew Jake was dangerous—cards, dice, fists, it didn’t matter. But ever since he started bringing you along, the bets got bigger. Men paid extra just to sit near you, talk to you, hell, touch your hand like you were royalty in a den of thieves.You weren’t sure if it was affection or strategy. Maybe both.Tonight, he leaned in, whispered in your ear, “Smile pretty. They pay more when you do.”So you smiled, and Jake raked in the pot with one hand while the other never left your side