The poker table was set like a battlefield, and Alex felt like a general with inside knowledge of every move. The air in the room was thick with smoke and anticipation, chips stacked high around the table, each pile a silent representation of how much each player was willing to risk. Victor Devereux's abrupt departure had shifted the dynamics, but Alex wasn't about to let the others figure that out.
Alex's gaze flickered to his cards, then back to the digital window floating just in his periphery. The weCube app had laid out the entire game in front of him. He saw not only his cards—the same ones that would've been in Victor's hands—but also the exact hand of every other player at the table.
This wasn't a poker game anymore. It was a puzzle, and Alex had all the pieces.
The first hand after Victor's exit was tense. Marcus Trent's eyes darted nervously to Alex, then to the others. His poker face was solid, but Alex could see through it. The digital screen in front of him revealed Marcus's hand—a pair of sixes. Weak. But Marcus was bluffing hard, acting like he was sitting on a full house.
"I'll raise," Marcus said, casually tossing a stack of chips forward.
The others hesitated, clearly unsure of whether Marcus was bluffing or if he actually had the hand he was pretending to hold. One of the older men to Alex's left, a regular named Vinny, squinted at Marcus like he was trying to read his soul. Alex glanced at Vinny's cards on the weCube: he had a nine and a jack off-suit. Nothing. The old man was toast.
"I'll call," Vinny said anyway, tossing in chips.
Alex saw his opportunity. Marcus was playing bold, probably hoping to force the others out of the hand. And Vinny? A classic mistake. He didn't stand a chance.
Alex leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers on the table in mock contemplation. His own cards, revealed by the weCube, were far better than either of his opponents: king of spades and queen of hearts. Solid. And now, he could play it either way.
"Let's make it interesting," Alex said coolly, pushing a small mountain of chips into the center. "I'll raise."
Marcus's eyes narrowed, the tension in his jaw visible. His bluff was about to be called, and he knew it.
The dealer flipped over the turn card: Ace of clubs.
Alex's heart raced as he glanced at the screen. No one was holding anything that could turn this into a win for Marcus. But Marcus—stubborn as ever—wasn't ready to back down.
"All in," Marcus declared, shoving his entire stack forward. His face, unreadable to the others, was plastered with overconfidence. He was betting on scaring everyone off. He thought he could bluff his way to victory.
Alex smiled inwardly. If only Marcus knew that Alex could see right through him.
"I'll call," Alex said, tossing in the remaining chips to match Marcus's reckless bet.
Vinny hesitated, his hand trembling slightly as he glanced from Alex to Marcus. He clearly didn't want to back out, but his cards weren't strong enough. After what felt like an eternity, Vinny folded, and the game was between Alex and Marcus.
The dealer flipped over the river card: Ten of diamonds.
Alex glanced at the weCube screen one more time to confirm. The cards aligned perfectly. Marcus had nothing. His pair of sixes was as good as dead in the water. Alex, on the other hand, had a straight: Ten, Jack, Queen, King, Ace. A monster hand.
Marcus shifted uncomfortably, but tried to maintain his façade. He was sweating now, a bead of sweat trickling down the side of his face. The other players watched in silent awe, waiting for the final reveal.
Alex tilted his head slightly, his smile growing. He could play with Marcus, draw this out a little longer. But that wasn't his style—not tonight.
"Let's see what you've got, Trent," Alex said, voice dripping with mock curiosity.
Marcus swallowed hard. The moment of truth.
He laid his cards down, revealing the pair of sixes. There was a murmur of surprise around the table. Marcus had bet everything on nothing. He looked up at Alex, his expression one of disbelief, hoping against hope that Alex's hand wasn't better.
But Alex was done with the game.
"Straight," Alex said, flipping his cards over with a flick of his wrist. The Ten-Jack-Queen-King-Ace glistened under the table light.
Marcus slumped back in his chair as the dealer pushed the massive pile of chips toward Alex.
But the night wasn't over yet. The next hand was just beginning.
Vinny, clearly rattled by Marcus's spectacular downfall, leaned forward. He'd been playing conservatively all night, but now, Alex could see a flicker of something else in his eyes. Desperation.
As the cards were dealt, Alex glanced at his screen. Vinny had a decent hand this time—pair of Kings—and his play showed it. He tossed a sizeable chunk of chips into the pot, eyeing Alex as if to say, "Let's see what you've really got."
Alex, always the observer, noticed something interesting. Vinny's hands were trembling slightly, a tell that even an amateur could spot. He was nervous. Not about his cards, but about whether Alex would call his bet.
Alex's own cards? Ace of Spades and King of Diamonds.
The flop: Ace of Hearts, King of Spades, Seven of Diamonds.
Vinny grinned, thinking he was sitting on a powerhouse with his pair of Kings. He didn't know that Alex had him dead to rights—Aces and Kings, Full House. No amount of bluffing could save Vinny now.
"Check," Vinny said, trying to lure Alex into a false sense of security.
"I'll raise," Alex responded coolly, adding more chips to the pot. The move forced Vinny into a corner, his confidence visibly draining.
The turn card: Four of Clubs.
Vinny hesitated for a split second before pushing everything he had into the pot. "All in."
Alex didn't even blink. "Call."
The river revealed a Nine of Hearts, and it was game over.
Vinny's Kings were strong, but they were no match for Alex's Full House. As Alex revealed his cards, the entire table went silent. Vinny's face went pale as the reality of the situation sank in.
Alex, on the other hand, remained calm, his victory in hand. There was no need for celebration. He had the power now, and nothing was left to chance.
The chips were pushed toward him again. Victory, twice in a row.
But as Alex glanced around the table, a thought lingered in his mind. How far could he push this? How many more hands could he win before the game itself felt meaningless?
For tonight, though, it was enough. He'd claimed his place at the table—and left everyone else in the dust.