Nothing could be heard except the shuffling of cards and clattering of chips. Even if another sound was made, Albino wouldn't have known. He'd blocked out everything except this tournament. Everything he had was sitting on the table in front of him. Not the mere $150,000 that he had left in chips, but the $1,000,000 he had put into the $20,000,000 pot before he started. This tournament decided the fate of his future finances and so far, it was all going down the toilet.

He'd been through a whirlwind of emotions during the tournament, battling it out as chips were given back and forth his opponents. Now there were just four players left. As tradition states, first, second and third place winners would get a 50-30-20 split of the pot, respectively. Which meant if Albino could just survive long enough to see one more player leave the tournament, he'd be guaranteed a minimum of $4,000,000 to take home.

With the debt problems that followed his gambling addiction, sweat ran down Albino's forehead as the pressure increased. He had burned a lot of chips during the game and he was now neck-and-neck with one of the other 4 remaining players. Which one of them would leave was to be chosen within the next few hands. As the blinds and ante's increased, Albino's chance of reaching top 3 decreased. He could feel the ever-increasing pots suffocating him as his stack of chips dwindled in size. He saw no light at the end of the tunnel and started to prepare himself for the inevitable. He started to accept that he would soon be joining the 16 other failures and going home empty handed.

Albino's luck had got worse and worse as the tournament progressed and now he really needed a lucky break. His gut sank and his face dropped. With no finances left, how would he kick up his tribute for his Don? How would feed his gambling addiction? How would he pay for his cigars and whiskey? How would he feed his cat?

As the pictures of a moneyless life ran through his mind, he had visions of himself in an alleyway, looking for used cigarette butts to smoke, scratching his scruffy beard while reaching an all-time low to feed himself and cooking his beloved cat on a bonfire.

Just as he brought himself back to the game playing out before him, he saw his next two cards placed in front of him by the dealer. The other players were sat waiting, looking at him in anticipation to watch his next crucial move. He closed his eyes in a moment of silence, knowing these could be the last two cards he sees in this tournament. As he picked them up, he opened his eyes to see two Aces sitting in his hand. His facial expression remained cold and lifeless, his body sat still. Was this because he was a good poker player? Or was it just because he couldn't believe his eyes?

As any poker player knows, Albino knew this wasn't it. This didn't, by any means, guarantee him a doorway into the final 3, but it certainly heightened his chances. He called the bets of the other players and considered a rise but decided against it. Although he was sitting on a pair of Aces, he didn't want to jump in too early and scare them off. Or worse yet - he didn't want to start throwing chips away only to see three 2s appear on the flop - it would've been just his luck that some bastard pulled the rug out from beneath him.

The time had come for the flop and Albino's heart had near-stopped as the Dealer turned the cards over. The first card was turned over in what seemed like slow-motion as Albino's eyes watched....... Queen of Hearts. Albino's breathing slowed. It was a good start if he wanted the straight, but an Ace would've given him a bit more confidence in his bets. As the next card was turned, Albino's eyes watched the Dealer reveal a 3 of Spades. "Shit!!" Albino thought. How the bloody hell would a 3 of Spades help him?!

Albino had worked hard for the last 3 hours to hide all of his emotions and it had got him as far as he was. Now growing impatient, he began to show small signs of frustration. Tapping the table as the Dealer started to turn the third card of the flop, he watched.... Ace of Diamonds. Again, his body just stopped dead. He picked his two cards up again from the table to assure what he believed. He definitely had three of a kind - and he definitely needed to bet.

Second in line to make a bet, he saw his first opponent look around the table followed by a tap on the green cloth. Albino held back his smirk - looks like someone didn't have so much luck. He looked down at his chips and mentally counted how much he roughly had left, $150,000 or so... He decided it was time to take the plunge.

As he collected $70,000 in chips and placed them in front of him, his opponents couldn't believe their eyes. He hadn't made a bet larger than the minimum for quite some time. He'd given up throwing his chips away 7 or 8 hands ago - now all of a sudden, he wanted a piece of the action? Perhaps it was one last ditch effort at a bluff? Or did he really have something? The other players couldn't make heads or tails of it.

The next player to bet wasn't taking any chances. Either he had nothing to bring to the table or his hand was so piss-poor, it wasn't worth talking about. The man shook his head and threw his cards on the table followed by a emotionless "Fold."

The opponent sitting directly opposite Albino held a cold stare. He sat back in his seat and started to play with his moustache while he weighed up his options. He begun to speak in his thick Russian accent,
"Albino grew some balls, huh?"
The man chuckled slightly and threw $70,000 worth of chips into the middle of the table.
"Call", he said.
This was the same man that currently had majority of the chips in play. What did he care about Albino's small-time bet? He was only seeing him in an attempt to knock him out of the tournament. But Albino didn't care. He was quietly confident with his 3-of-a-kind and he was quite happy for the chip leader to think little of him.

Everyone's attention was turned at the original better. His last move was checking and now to be a part of the events to come, he had to call the $70,000 bet. Like Albino, he too was running out of chips very fast. Albino counted around $150,000 in front of his opponent. As he looked over at his chips, he prayed the man would follow. Albino was confident and knew there was a good chance he'd be going all in on the next card. He'd love to win his chips back from his opponents but more importantly, he needed one more person to get knocked out of the tournament - and this opponent was in the worst position of the 3.

The man didn't think much before making his move to call the bet, which could easily turn out to be his most fatal error. The chips were collected and stacked neatly in the centre of the table. The Dealer prepared the deck of cards, readying the next card to be shown.

As the Dealer flipped the card over, it was revealed to be another Queen - Clubs, this time. Albino's head dropped. Shit, he showed too much. The rich opponent opposite smirked as he saw Albino's rookie mistake of showing emotion. The first opponent tapped to check and Albino weighed up his options. Sink or swim, Albino was diving in.

He slid the remainder of his chips into the middle of the table. The pot now sat at $294,000. If his two opponents were to follow, Albino was looking at winning over $450,000. This would be a tasty amount for him - enough for him to get back in the game and striving for success, at least. But most importantly of all, it meant one of them was going home.

The turn moved round to the chip leader. Without much thought, he soon followed and placed a matching $84,000 into the pot. Now the decision rested on the other poor player in the mix. He checked his cards again and looked around at those sitting at the table. Attempting to read their faces, you could see he’d processed enough thought and decided to bite the bullet. He his remaining chips into the middle of the table. He had slightly less than Albino causing a split pot.

After finishing the calculations, the Dealer placed the river-card face down on the table. Albino sat in anticipation hoping for an all-important Ace to show it’s face. However, much to his disappointment - this wasn’t the card that was placed in front of him. Now sitting on the table was a Queen of Hearts, a Three of Spades, a Queen of Clubs, an Ace of Diamonds and a Four of Spades. 

Albino felt comfortable and in a good position. He had a full house, Aces over Queens - why wouldn’t he feel comfortable? All that could ruin his day was seeing an opponent with pocket Queens.

Now his brain had considered the thought, his heart started to speed up. What if the lucky son-of-a-bitch opposite had managed just that? Pocket Queens? After all, he did follow the bet pretty quick. He was very rapid to call. Or maybe this was just because he was in such a good position, the small pot didn’t mean so much to him? “Shit...” Albino started to panic.

The Dealer requested everyone turned over their cards, starting with the first man in order. He turns his cards over to reveal Two of Hearts and Five of Spades. Albino let out a relieving sigh. His Full House beat a Straight.

Now he had just one opponent to beat. But first, he had to show his hand. The pressure built up and Albino placed his cards on the table face down. As his heart started to speed up, he steadied his hand, holding on to the two cards ready to show their faces.

Albino flipped the cards over revealing the beautiful pair of Aces - Spades and Hearts. He looks up at the once-smug rich bastard opposite him. The man was a good poker player, he was still holding his hardest poker face and hiding all emotion.

The rich opponents moves were fast, he leant back in his seat - relaxed and calm. He straightened his tie before picking up his two cards and throwing them onto the table face up revealing a Queen of Spades and a Three of Hearts. He too, had a Full House - but Albino’s luck had kicked back in.

The two men’s eyes met and they held contact for far too long to be friendly. Perhaps the smug bastard had finally realised Albino was a force to be reckoned with. Albino still had a very small amount of chips and a very long walk to winning the tournament - but he’d made the top 3.

Now happy he wasn’t going home with anything less than $4,000,000, Albino sat back in his seat and took a moment to get over the hugely stressful hand he just played. As the losing opponent got up and prepared to make his exit, Albino shook his hand followed by a swig of his whiskey. The Dealer called a 5 minute break. Albino got up from his seat and headed to the bathroom to prepare himself for another half-hour of mental torture.