THE FLOATING HOUSE ALWAYS WINS The thing about a con is that it's not about the cards. It's about the story. Cooper Wells has spent three years burying his past as Jimmy Harker, small-time grifter. Now he's a respectable marketing exec, married to the luminous Tala, celebrating their anniversary aboard The Royal Flush-a steampunk casino cruiser skirting the edge of a black hole. But the past never stays buried in space. When Cooper spots Sophia-the partner who burned him in Denver-working the casino floor, his carefully constructed life begins to unravel. Then she vanishes during a performance by Aurelius Voss, the renowned vulpine illusionist whose stage shows are whispered to be more than mere tricks. The ship's head of security knows Cooper's real name. The walls have started breathing. And everyone seems to be hunting for something called the Matrix. Even Nines, the brass bartender, philosophizes about existence with unsettling courtesy-too thoughtful, too knowing for a service android serving whiskey between observations about consciousness and fate. As the luxury liner's glittering façade cracks to reveal industrial shadows and corridors that fold in on themselves, Cooper must decide: fold his hand and protect the life he's built with Tala, or play one last game where the stakes include sanity itself. In space, the house always wins. But Cooper Wells is about to find out that sometimes the real trick is knowing which game you're playing-and who's really dealing the cards. A noir thriller where the femme fatale vanishes into quantum mechanics, the casino chips might be conscious, and the only thing more dangerous than the truth is a well-told lie.