The Sinister Screen Queen

The car pulled up to the curb just outside a dingy betting house, the kind with flickering signage and stale cigarette ghosts in the air.

Tanya turned to Ming with the charm of a general deploying her most delicate operative.

"Here." She said, handing her a folded slip of paper and a thick wad of crisp notes. "Five hundred pounds. Go place the bet exactly as it says."

Ming stared at the cash like it might detonate. "W-What? Me?"

"Yes, you. You're the most innocent-looking one here." Tanya winked.

"Uh… Tanya… are we sure this is legal?" Ming asked, not sure she should do this.

Tanya smiled at her innocence. "It's legal enough. You have an ID, right?"

Ming glanced around still uncertain. "Technically.

"Then go. Channel your inner shark." Tanya opened the door for Ming. "And remember, act like you do this all the time."

"This is going to be a disaster." Ming muttered, gripping the money with trembling fingers as she stepped out of the car and into the lion's den.

Inside the betting house, the atmosphere smelled like old carpet and poor decisions. Ming looked completely out of place.

A few regulars turn their heads. She hesitates, then approaches the cashier window

She approached the cashier, an older man with tired eyes and a half-empty coffee cup.

He looked up from his screen. "Can I help you, sweetheart?"

"I—I'm old enough." Ming blurted. "I would like to bet, and I have ID. Real ID. Government-issued."

The man blinked. "Okay then... How would you like to bet?"

She hesitated. "Five hundred pounds."

His eyebrows climbed his forehead like they were trying to escape. "You sure? That's... a waste of a perfectly good five hundred."

"It's not mine." She said quickly. "I'm only… the delivery system."

The cashier snickers. "Alright, hit me. What's the bet?

Ming carefully unfolds the slip and reads.

"Atlanta to beat Inter Milan. Two-one. Full-time score."

The man stared at her. "Your friend's either a genius or completely insane."

"Good luck. You'll need it." He handed her the betting slip and shook his head as she ran out.

Back in the car, Ming slid into her seat and handed the slip to Tanya, who took it with the satisfaction of a dragon counting its hoard.

Emilia and Allegra leaned in from either side.

"You actually did it?" Emilia whispered.

"Wait—what?!" Allegra exclaimed.

Emilia read it aloud. "Atlanta, 2–1, against Inter Milan?"

"What the hell is this sacrilegio?" Allegra blinked at the slip. "You bet on Atlanta?"

"Yes." Tanya replied, pleased.

"Against Inter Milan?" Allegra asked, her voice rising. "To win? 2-1?"

"That's correct." Tanya confirmed utterly unfazed.

Allegra reeled. "Tanya. I'm Italian. I've watched Inter dominate teams with real talento. Atalanta can't even win a coin toss on a good day."

"Maybe they draw if the stars align, but win?"

Tanya smiled with all her shiny teeth. "Wanna bet on it?"

Allegra hesitated, visibly thrown by the confidence oozing from Tanya's grin.

"You sound like you know something… Tu sai qualcosa? Eh?"

"Maybe. Maybe not. Your call."

For half a second, she entertained the idea that maybe Tanya knew something. Insider info. Match fixing. Mafia ties.

"No…" She said, folding her arms. "You're just dumb."

Emilia piped up with the passionate loyalty of someone about to make a very poor financial decision. "I believe in Tanya. I'm betting too. All my savings."

"How much?" Allegra asked, deadpan.

Emilia blushed. "...Eighty-six pounds… twenty-four pence."

"Che disastro! That's all your money?!" Allegra aghast.

Tanya chuckled. "You're adorable, Emilia."

Allegra gawked at both of them. "Ragazze… do you even realize the odds on that scoreline?"

"9-to-1." Tanya said without missing a beat. "It's a long shot. But I like long shots."

"You want to make this interesting?

Allegra eyed her suspiciously. "Quanto interessante??"

"Ten thousand pounds. Winner takes all."

Allegra scoffed. "You've already spent your whole monthly allowance on these bets."

"Then I'll give you next month's." Tanya counteroffered.

Allegra took a deep breath. "Va bene… but don't come piangendo when you lose, eh."

They shook hands with the solemnity of gladiators preparing to duel. In the front seat, Mary Poppins gave a disapproving little cough.

"I must remind you."

"That gambling is highly discouraged. That said…" She glanced at the girls in the rearview mirror, "You don't look like you're particularly short on resources."

"So, I shall allow this moment of fiscal recklessness."

Then she put the car into drive.

Ming leaned back in her seat, clutching her phone and silently wondering what on earth she'd gotten herself into.

Between the mysterious bets, the designer-clad Italian aristocrat, the loyal deskmate-turned-backup-gambler, and an actual Mary Poppins lookalike behind the wheel, she was no longer sure if this was real life or a fever dream.

But when Tanya glanced over at her and winked, Ming could only smile back.

Whatever this was…

It was amazing.