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It's 1962, and The Gilded Ace has never glittered harder. The Strip's slickest casino is hosting its million-dollar High Rollers' Invitational: a headliner in the lounge, wise guys in the pit, a fortune moving through the counting room; when the tables go quiet: a body, face-down among the chips. The owner, the showgirl, the count-room boss, the man from the Gaming Commission: every one of them is holding something back. One of them played a hand worth killing for. Time to call the bluff.

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Welcome to the Strip in 1962, where The Gilded Ace burns brightest of all: a casino built as a stage, where everyone performs luck and loyalty and the house sees every card. Learn the floor's language: a “whale” is a big-money gambler, “comps” are the free drinks and suites the house uses as bait, a “cooler” is a player brought in to kill a hot streak, “the cage” is where chips become cash, “juice” is influence, and “the eye in the sky” watches every table from above. Etiquette: dress sharp, tip your dealer, never count out loud, and never ask what happens behind the counting-room door. What the counting room counts is nobody's business, and tonight, on the biggest hand of the Invitational, that is exactly the point.

Count your guests only not yourself, anywhere from 6 to 32. Want to play too? There's an option below once you pick a number.