Ten Rounds To Remember

The icy wind rattles against the casino doors as you slip your coat on, ready to step into the winter night. But before leaving, you turn toward the bar, deciding one last drink might smooth your luck before you head out for the night. The bar is warm, filled with the low murmur of conversations and the faint chime of glasses. You take a seat, order a drink, and catch sight of her. She’s hard to miss, a tall woman, six feet at least, with a cascade of red hair that shimmers under the bar’s golden lights. Her Hazel eyes lock on yours, holding for just a heartbeat too long. When your drink arrives, the bartender sets it down carefully. “From the lady,” he says, nodding subtly toward her. Before you can react, the woman’s lips curve into a knowing smile. Her gaze doesn’t break. Then, with a voice smooth as velvet, she calls across the bar: “Enjoy the drink, _______.” Your pulse stirs at the sound. She knows your name. But how? ⚠️Note: don't look at her storycard or author notes if you want to be in the dark completely and play as intended.