Page 12 of Starving Butterfly
That got a reaction. Not loud, but enough.
The attorney smirked. “Man’s got a hell of a poker face.”
“Depends who you ask” I said, sliding a chip forward. “I’ve seen him fold hands he should’ve taken.”
The commissioner’s gaze sharpened slightly at that. The Congresswoman leaned back in her chair, studying me now instead of the table.
“He doesn’t come around often,” she said carefully.
I shrugged, as if it didn’t matter either way. “No. But when he does… people notice.”
The judge adjusted his sleeve, voice quiet when he finally spoke.
“They make room.”
There it was, hierarchy confirmed.
I let it sit for a minute, then nodded as if it was expected.
“Yeah,” I murmured. “They do.”
The dealer placed the next card. I barely looked at it.
“Play with him much?” the media man pressed, curiosity sharpening just a touch. I tapped the table, considering my hand as if that was the question that mattered.
“Enough to know when he’s not just here for the game.”
Silence — brief, but heavier now.
The attorney chuckled, trying to cut through it. “Nobody’s ever just here for the game.”
I met his eyes then, just for a second.
“No,” I agreed softly. “They’re not.” I pushed my cards forward. “Fold.”
The chips moved again. Another hand. Another round of meaningless cards.
I barely looked at mine; I didn’t need to.
“Quiet lately,” the banker noted, almost absentmindedly. “Things slow down without … central leadership.”
There it was, not subtle or accidental.
I let my thumb drag across the card as if I were contemplating the play, giving them time to think.
“Midas doesn’t like staying in one place too long,” I said evenly. “Bad for business.”
The attorney snorted. “Or bad for control.”
A few smirks passed around the table. The commissioner didn’t smile; his eyes were on me again. Waiting and testing.
The congresswoman tilted her head slightly. “And yet the operations haven’t stalled.”
Not a question, but a trap. I set a chip forward, slow and deliberate, as if I had something to play.
“Why would they?” I asked.
The dealer placed the flop. Nobody spoke for a second. That silence? That was the shift.
