Lovino did a double-take of his surroundings. This was definitely not where he was supposed to be. He was supposed to be meeting up with Feliciano, Kiku, and Ludwig at a quaint coffee shop on the quiet side of town. He should have suspected something when his environment became too quiet.

Not that I care about hanging out with my stupid brother and his stupid potato-bastard boyfriend and his weird Japanese friend. I don't care. At all.

Even someone as stubborn as Lovino could admit to himself that he really did care. Not necessarily because his plans with the other three were incredibly important, but rather his own fear.

His mafioso days were long gone. Even the thought of those money-hungry, cold-blooded, criminals made a bitter taste fill Lovino's mouth. He shouldn't have been acting like such a coward in this sort of situation.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

I have no idea where I am.

Another gust of wind bit at Lovino's face, making the tips of his ears turn red from the cold. He shoved his hands deeper inside his pockets, clenching both fists tightly.

His phone had lost reception about half an hour ago. Lovino decided to swallow his pride and ask for help or directions or whatever could get him out of this pinch. He had money, too. Lots of it. Being the older brother of one of Italy's most popular artists really did pay off sometimes.

It wasn't like Lovino was mooching off of Feliciano for glory. He could take care of himself just fine if he wanted to. Working as a manager in his family's restaurant brought in more money than what was necessary. Despite all of this, Feliciano's generosity and adamance led Lovino to stay with his younger brother in an enormous mansion. The only complaint he really had was that brick-faced kraut that Feliciano always insisted on having over.

Lovino stared at the brick building in front of him. It wasn't big by any means but somehow managed to radiate an imposing aura.

Royal Flush Casino, eh? Bet those shit-head owners think they're being so smart naming the place after a poker hand.

A Royal Flush was unarguably the most coveted hand one could obtain in poker, stacking up jaw-dropping odds of about 649,739: 1. Lovino had never been lucky enough to find himself in possession of one, though. Oh well. He could only hope.

Mingling with the intimating quality of the Casino was something else. Something that was almost inviting Lovino to just take a step closer.

And he actually did. Soon enough, one step turned into two. Two steps turned into three.

Lovino curled his hand around the door's cold metal handle. He gave it a squeeze, still not entirely sure what he should do. While for an ordinary person, it wouldn't hurt to take a look inside a casino, Lovino wasn't exactly an ordinary person in that regard.

He was addicted. Not to drugs. Not to alcohol.

Gambling. Something about the rush of risking it all for victory and feeling that intoxicating thrill—it was impossible to resist.

Every time Lovino entered a casino, he would never exit with the same amount of money. He liked to think that his pockets would be guaranteed to fill after every match, although there certainly were those occasions where he lost.

Nobody really knew about this hobby of his. Not even Feliciano. Nobody alive, anyway. Lovino knew exactly who he inherited his addiction from.

His grandfather, who had since passed away.

He felt a lump form in his throat. Tears stung at the corners of his eyes at the thought of his late grandfather. People were quick to assume that Julius Vargas' favorite was Feliciano. They never knew about those evenings the older man would spend indulging in entertaining games with his other grandson. Roulette, poker, blackjack, baccarat—anything that involved risk and strategy.

Lovino pushed the faded memories to the back of his mind. He didn't want to let himself dwell over the past.

That kind of stuff's for the weak.

He liked to think he was strong.

Maybe I am.

But right then and there, with the shimmering lights of the casino's sign looking so goddamn enticing—

Lovino thought that giving in to his little habit wouldn't be so bad.

He pulled the door open, making a decision that would change his life forever.

It was like he was stepping into a whole other world.

Soft jazz music floated in the air, giving the dimly-lit space a calming atmosphere. Golden lights were fixated on the ceiling, spilling a faint glow onto the room below. The floor had a peculiar pattern to it, one that Lovino hadn't seen before. Silhouettes of each suite—hearts, diamonds, clubs, spades decorated the ground. Typically, Lovino would have muttered something under his breath about the entire thing being far too tacky for his "refined" tastes. Instead, he held his tongue.

There weren't too many people present. A pair of figures hunched over the roulette wheel, but they didn't exactly catch his eye. What did was the dealer. She had medium-length caramel-coloured hair held back with a green ribbon, matching her forest-green eyes. Her lips were pulled into a mischievous, almost cat-like grin. She was attractive enough for Lovino to boldly classify as worth impressing in his mind.

There was another man. He was tall and strong-built. Platinum hair framed his face, which was home to soft, childlike features. His violet eyes roamed around like they were reading the room.

Lovino involuntarily shuddered. He didn't even know who the stranger was, but even so, he felt intimidated.

Lovino searched for more possible opponents, only to feel his heart lurch when he realized there was nobody else.

A flame of bravery lit itself in his heart. He felt a burst of adrenaline, accompanied by the confidence he didn't even know he possessed.

Why the hell, not? Sure, this guy might look scary as hell—

Lovino gave the stranger another once-over as discreetly as he could manage, pressing his lips tightly together.

But who's to say he's the gambling master? I mean…

Never gonna know unless I try.

Lovino approached the man, the sounds of his uneven footsteps absorbed by the carpet. As he drew closer, he couldn't help but notice the eerie calmness in the other man's expression. Swimming underneath those violet eyes was something else. Something like… loneliness?

"Hey," Lovino said loudly in order to grab the stranger's attention. He locked eye contact. "Wanna play?"

Damn it! He cursed himself for how utterly suggestive the words sounded as they slipped from his mouth. The giant sitting in front of him was most definitely not his type.

The man stared at Lovino for a few seconds in disbelief, almost like he was determining whether the challenger was even real.

"Oh. You—you were talking to me?" he asked, his voice heavily accented.

Lovino nodded, his patience dwindling. "Took you long enough to figure that one out. Dumbass."

Suddenly, he regretted saying anything at all.

The stranger smiled humorlessly. Lovino couldn't even wrap his head around how a simple upturning of the lips had the ability to chill a person right down to the bone.

"The arrogant ones are always more fun to crush," he murmured. A shadow passed over his face, making Lovino's hands tremble (although he would never let it show.)

"Y-yeah, whatever, big guy. Let's just get this thing started." Lovino signaled for a dealer. He had subconsciously hoped the pretty brunette by the roulette wheel would be available, but unfortunately, she was not. Instead, a man who was somewhat on the shorter side with choppy blonde hair trudged towards them.

"What'll the game be?" the dealer asked, undertones of irritability laced in his voice.

Lovino looked at his opponent.

"Ah—I'm not sure! You can choose," the stranger offered.

The dealer growled in displeasure. "Indecisive as always, Ivan. Whatever, not that it really matters." He looked to Lovino. "Choice's on you."

Lovino drummed his fingers against his thigh. He hadn't put too much thought into it. It would be in his best interest to choose a game he was the most skilled at.

"How about we go classic? 3-card poker," Lovino determined confidently.

"3-card, it is." The dealer (who Lovino could now see was named Baasch by the nametag on his breast pocket) procured an unopened deck from seemingly nowhere. He used his fingernail to break the seal and slid the deck onto the table, where he employed a Riffle shuffling technique.

"Ante," Baasch commanded. Lovino placed one chip in the pot, as did Ivan.

Baasch then dealt the cards; three to each person. Lovino flipped the cards so they faced him, eager to know what kind of hand he had.

He felt his pulse quicken, pounding at his heart like a drum.

Lovino's hand wasn't necessarily bad. He had a pair of twos and a Jack of Spades. While he was relieved that he had a pair, he still felt bitter that they were twos, which held the lowest value in the game.

"Raise. 50," Lovino declared as nonchalantly as possible, pushing more chips into the center of the table. If he could get Ivan to fold before showdown, he'd be guaranteed a win.

"Interesting. You are very confident," Ivan remarked. "Call." He pushed in his chips, matching the bet.

"Of course I am," Lovino shot back. "Raise, 75." His risks knew no boundaries. Caught in the heat of a good gamble—watching the pot grow and grow was more than just a little exciting.

I'll scare him away.

Ivan giggled. He actually giggled. "Is that so?"

Fold. Fold. Fold. Fold. Fold, now.

Ivan did not. "Raise. 250."

Lovino felt the color leave his face.

Poker face, remember? Keep the mask on. That's how you win.

He twisted his mouth into what he hoped looked like a self-assured smirk. More than three hundred dollars were in the pot, now. Nothing close to anything that could really burn a hole in his pocket, but—

It's not even about the money. I don't give a shit if I lose some cash. But my pride…

That can't be bought back.

"Call," Lovino replied. More chips left from his disposal shoved into the pot with no remorse. His supplies weren't necessarily dwindling. He could get more chips if he wanted to, but that would also mean risking more money.

Not that I really care.

"The betting round is over," interrupted Baasch.

Lovino gritted his teeth together and clenched his jaw tight.

Here we go.

"Reveal your cards, please."

Lovino flipped his cards over, revealing the hand to his opponent. Ivan showed his in a similar manner.

Lovino bit back a fit of laughter.

Ivan had nothing. His hand was completely useless, so to speak. A three of clubs, seven of spades, and two of diamonds. No pairs or high aces to be seen. Yet, the Russian never folded. That was something Lovino couldn't help but admire.

"A pair of twos. This guy wins," Baasch announced monotonously. Lovino smirked, making sure that Ivan was watching as he pushed the newly-acquired winnings towards him.

"Eheheh, that was fun!" Ivan smiled, not showing a single bitter regard to his loss.

Lovino immediately got suspicious. His eyebrows narrowed as he scrutinized his opponent again. Reading and pinpointing exactly what the Russian was thinking seemed to be impossible.

Tch. Just a waste of my time, then.

You won't be smiling when I wipe the floor with your sorry, giggling, ass.

"Next round." Baasch snatched the cards and shuffled the deck again, using a different motion. Lovino could identify it as a simple Overhand shuffle.

The cards were dealt, and round two had begun.

Lovino examined his hand and bit back a swear. Lady Luck wasn't on his side, this time. He didn't have any pairs, and his highest card was a 9 of diamonds. The rest of the hand consisted of a 5 of clubs and 6 of diamonds. He fought to keep his facial expression neutral, aiming to show as little emotion as the stoic-faced dealer did.

Ivan placed one chip into the pot for the buy-in, and Lovino followed up with the same amount.

"Raise. 500," Ivan said, not missing a beat. Within an instant, the pot was huge.

Lovino bit the inside of his mouth. Really, it would have been a good idea to fold. One big rule of three-card-poker was to fold if the highest card you had was of less value than a jack.

Although, Lovino really wasn't one to follow the rules.

"Call." He slid the chips into the pot.

"Raise, 750."

Lovino felt bile rise in his throat. He had to either match that bet (which was certainly nothing to sneeze at) or just fold. While raising was another option, it would be more effective had Lovino been playing against a more cowardly opponent. Ivan showed no signs of wavering in his betting.

"C—call," Lovino stuttered. He really didn't mean to sound as anxious as he did, but he couldn't help it. His hand was trash, and Ivan seemed awfully confident in his own cards…

No! He could be bluffing, just like how I am. Pretending to be so sure of himself… sneaky bastard! I'll show you what gambling's really about.

As he contributed to the steadily growing pot, Lovino felt like he was digging himself into a deeper and deeper grave. Oddly enough, it really wasn't all that bad…

Lovino loved gambling. But he wasn't stupid. He knew what risks had to be made and what risks didn't. He knew when it would be smarter to fold and just cut his losses.

"No more betting. Showdown."

Lovino's fingernails dug into the cards, leaving small, crescent-shaped indentations in their wake. These cards were horrible. This was undoubtedly a losing hand.

But of course, there was always that little spark of hope that kept nagging him from the back of his mind. It held the possibility that Ivan's hand wasn't good either, and that there was still a chance that he could win.

Fat chance of that.

Lovino revealed his hand. His hazel eyes quickly shifted their gaze onto the triplet of cards turned upwards on the other side of the table. He fought the urge to keep his jaw from dropping.

A straight.

Ivan smiled, his expression sickeningly sweet. His hand consisted of a 3 of clubs, 4 of hearts, and a 5 of spades. In other words, a Straight. Consecutive numbers. If they had all been of the same suit, the value would have been upped even further at a Straight Flush.

Lovino's heart raced. How much had he lost in this round?

Definitely more than he had gained on his previous win.

"Oh my, your hand doesn't look so great," Ivan retorted in a lighthearted tone. "I must say, that was a very brave move to make."

"Can it. I don't want your goddamn pity," Lovino snapped testily. There was no point in trying to hide it. He was naturally an ill-tempered person, but when he lost, his behaviour would grow even worse.

"You don't seem to be having much fun, right now."

"No shit, sherlock."

"That isn't good. The whole point of this," Ivan gestured to the match-in-progress, "Is to have fun. That is what games are for, correct?"

Lovino let out an almost feral growl. "Easy for you to say. Games are only fun when you're on the winning side."

Ivan laughed. Again. "Eheheh, is that so?" He accepted his winnings from the pot, an amusing glint in his eyes. "Are you familiar with the events of World War II?"

Lovino raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm not an idiot." He recalled a moment from a few years ago when he used to work as an assistant for some American businessman.

"Damn him," Lovino cursed under his breath. Alfred seemed to take an unusual amount of interest in History, which was odd considering that the subject wasn't even in his line of profession. The American would always go on and on about how the "heroes" saved the world from the evil Axis Powers. Alfred's grandfather was an Allied Veteran, or so Lovino heard.

"Who?"

Lovino shook his head. "Nobody. Let's just start the next round."

Ivan held up his hand. "Not yet. I didn't finish speaking." He cast a faraway glance at the ceiling. "In World War II, Italy was on the Axis side along with Germany and Japan, correct?"

Is he mocking my heritage? That son of a—

"Yeah, but…" Lovino glared at Ivan, his lips curled into an ugly scowl. "Why the hell should I concern myself with that?"

"But in 1943, Italy switched sides. They joined the Allied Powers, betraying the Axis," Ivan continued. "They acted similarly in World War I, as well. It seems cowardly, doesn't it?"

Lovino kept his mouth shut.

I'm not gonna humor him. I came here for a gambling match, not a history lesson.

"It wasn't cowardly at all. Switching to the winning side… wouldn't that mean the game would turn out in your favor?"

Lovino scoffed and leaned further back in his chair. "Still don't see how this has any relevance. Dealer!"

Baasch nodded. "Round three." He took the face-up cards from the table and added them to his deck, shuffling it carefully.

"Ah—I apologize for that delay. However, Lovino…" Ivan folded his hands together and held eye contact, his gaze practically breaking through what Lovino thought was an impenetrable poker-face.

"That advice might come of use to you, someday. So, don't forget. Okay?"

All traces of malice were erased, leaving a saccharine smile behind.

Lovino knew better than to trust it. Especially after he realized something.

How does he know my name? I never introduced myself… I'm not wearing anything that would identify me…

He squirmed in his seat.

Whoever that bastard actually is…

I've got a really bad feeling about him.

The sound of a triplet of cards landing on the tabletop in front of Lovino tore him away from his thoughts roughly.

This hand means everything. I've already lost…

Mio Dio, I don't even want to count. But I know that I can't lose any more.

Lovino flipped the cards over.

Yes. YES!

His hand was incredible. No—more than just incredible. It was one of the best hands he could possibly get.

Lovino felt the corners of his mouth twitch, threatening to lift upwards in a manic grin. Cocky laughter bubbles inside his chest, although he knew better than to let it spill.

As per usual, nothing was registered on Ivan's face.

Whatever. It didn't matter.

After placing in the ante, Lovino parted his lips to make a declaration.

"Raise. 1000." He eagerly pushed the chips into the pot, feeling nothing but excitement coursing through his veins. This was a risk that would surely pay off in the end.

There it was. For a very brief moment, Lovino could see Ivan's pupils widen. That small dilation gave him everything he needed to know.

It's working. I just need to keep raising, and even if he does prevail and we showdown….

Lovino stole another glance at his own hand.

I'm bound to win.

For some time, Lovino actually believed that Ivan would fold.

"Call," his opponent responded. Ivan gave his own chips, albeit with slightly less enthusiasm than Lovino.

"Raise, 2000."

"Call."

The back-and-forth continued for some more time, with Lovino continuing to raise higher and higher and Ivan matching the bets. While Ivan hadn't folded as Lovino would have liked, he still had enough confidence in himself to keep going.

Finally, it was Ivan's turn again. Baasch tried to hide the bemused expression on his face. If the dealer wasn't at least a little bit entertained by the events of the match, he would have just ended the betting round earlier to get the entire thing over with.

"Raise. 100,000," Ivan said.

Icy shock froze over in Lovino's brain.

What? He…

Why would Ivan make such a move? He had been on the fence of folding, or so Lovino thought. Wouldn't it be foolish to place so much on the line?

He's not foolish, Lovino deduced. He's brave.

That or he's just an idiot.

Maybe I'm just being hypocritical.

Should I call? He's probably not going to fold, even if I do raise…

"Call," Lovino said quickly.

"No more bets," Baasch proclaimed. "Showdown."