I lost the hand.

Natalia's eyes lit up with triumph, the hint of a smile playing at the corner of her mouth as she laid down her cards. She was getting better at this, finding her rhythm, or maybe I was just losing focus. Hard to maintain your poker face when every nerve ending in your body is screaming for attention and a miniature Greek goddess keeps trying to sit on your shoulder.

"My turn," Natalia said, her voice low and husky in a way that sent ripples down my spine. She took her time considering her question, studying me with those piercing eyes. I could almost see the gears turning behind them, weighing which secret she most wanted to extract.

"Why did you choose that sad song at the karaoke bar?" she finally asked.

The question caught me off guard. I'd expected something more directly related to us, to this bizarre relationship we were building. Something about Emi, perhaps, or about my plans for her. Instead, she'd gone for something seemingly innocuous but surprisingly personal.

Before I could answer, Aphrodite materialized right in front of my face, her tiny features contorted in a dramatic pout. She was barely six inches tall, a perfect miniature goddess with golden hair that moved like liquid and a shimmering chiton that seemed to change colors with her mood. Currently, it was a jealous red.

Are you going to talk about your pathetic old life? she demanded, her voice a tinkling bell that somehow managed to sound petulant. Or are you going to tell this girl how beautiful she is? Look at me! Tell me I'm beautiful!

She flitted around my head like an angry hummingbird, her wings a blur of rainbow light. I ignored her, focusing instead on Natalia's expectant face.

"It reminded me of someone I used to know," I said carefully. It wasn't entirely a lie—I'd heard the song in a dingy Yamaguchi-gumi bar where a washed-up lounge singer crooned it while yakuza lieutenants discussed who needed to disappear that week. Then I added, dropping my voice to just above a whisper, "But the person I was singing it to... was you."

Natalia's breath hitched, her pupils dilating slightly. The lie had landed perfectly, like a knife between ribs finding the exact space between bones.

Liar! Aphrodite shrieked, swooping dangerously close to my ear. You weren't even thinking about her! You were thinking about that blue-haired one! Look at me when I'm talking to you!

I continued to ignore the goddess, maintaining eye contact with Natalia instead. The tiny deity was becoming increasingly agitated, her wings beating furiously.

You're just like your father, you know, she hissed. So cold, so calculating. Sometimes I wonder if you could be one of my sons. No mortal man has your gift for manipulating women's hearts without feeling a thing.

A son of Aphrodite? Me? If I had any divine parentage, it was more likely Hades or perhaps Loki—some god of the underworld or chaos. Not the goddess of love and beauty.

I shuffled the cards for another round, hiding my irritation. Having a hallucination that wouldn't shut up was getting old fast.

"My turn to deal," I said, distributing the cards. The physical act helped ground me, pulling my focus away from the floating annoyance and the overwhelming sensations coursing through my body.

We played in silence for a few moments, the only sounds the whisper of cards and our increasingly ragged breathing. Every movement sent cascades of sensation across my skin. I could hear Natalia's heartbeat from across the floor, or maybe it was my own, echoing in my ears. The entire room felt like it was underwater, sounds muffled and distorted, yet somehow painfully acute.

"I win," I said, laying down my cards. A flush—hearts, appropriately enough.

Natalia's face fell, her own cards dropping from fingers that trembled slightly. "What do you want to know?" she asked, steeling herself.

"Did you ever think about me before? When you still hated me?" I asked, watching her face closely.

Natalia looked away, her throat working as she swallowed. The pill made the simple movement hypnotic—the delicate tendons shifting beneath her skin, the tiny pulse point at the base of her throat fluttering like a trapped bird.

"Yes," she admitted finally, her voice barely audible. "I used to have these... dreams. Nightmares, I told myself. Where you would corner me somewhere at school, push me against a wall and..." She trailed off, her face flushing crimson. "I would wake up hating myself, hating my body for betraying me that way. For wanting someone I despised."

My body responded to her confession instantly, a surge of heat that had nothing to do with the pill. The image she painted was vivid—Natalia, proud and cold, secretly fantasizing about submission. About me taking control.

She's lying to make you feel special, Aphrodite whispered in my ear. She's never wanted anyone but herself.

The next hand went to Natalia. Her eyes gleamed with anticipated victory as she asked, "What first drew you to me? Really. Not what you told yourself, but the truth."

"Your strength," I said simply. "The way you carried yourself like you owned the world, like nothing could touch you. I wanted to see what was underneath all that armor. I wanted to be the one who finally broke through."

What had first drawn me to Natalia was much simpler—she was the test the System had set for me. But there was enough truth in what I'd said to make it convincing. I had been fascinated by her strength, by the challenge she represented.

Natalia nodded slowly, accepting my answer. I could see it pleased her, aligned with how she saw herself.

The next few hands blurred together as the pills reached their peak effect. Every sensation was amplified to an almost unbearable degree. The brush of air from the ceiling fan felt like fingernails dragging across my skin. The weight of my clothes was oppressive, each seam and fiber a separate point of torturous awareness. I could smell everything—Natalia's perfume, the laundry detergent on her clothes, the faint scent of arousal that clung to her skin.

Across from me, Natalia wasn't faring any better. She had drawn her knees up to her chest, arms wrapped around them as if trying to hold herself together. Her breathing was shallow and quick, her pupils so dilated her eyes looked black in the dim light. Every few minutes, a small shudder would pass through her body, and she would bite her lip hard enough to leave marks.

I leaned against the bed, my knuckles white where I gripped the frame, every muscle in my body a knot of coiled tension. I felt like a guitar string tuned too tight, ready to snap at the slightest touch.

"Last hand," I said, my voice rougher than I intended. "Winner takes all."

Natalia nodded, her movements jerky and uncoordinated as she picked up her cards. I watched her face carefully, looking for tells. Despite her state, she maintained an admirable poker face, giving nothing away.

I laid down my cards—three of a kind. Not my strongest hand, but respectable.

Natalia's face fell as she revealed her own cards—a pair of jacks. Nothing else.

"I win," I said, satisfaction curling through me. "And this time, I'm not asking for a secret."

Natalia looked up, confusion crossing her features. "What do you mean?"

"I'm giving you a command instead," I said, shifting forward slightly. "Take off your top."

"That's not—we agreed to share secrets, not—"

"We agreed to play cards, and the loser would answer a question truthfully," I corrected her. "But that was our second game. Our first game still stands—the one where we see who breaks the no-touching rule first. I'm just raising the stakes."

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