Chapter 8
Mina
Eighteen years old.
“Checkmate,” Jude announces with a proud grin stretching across his face.
“You’re getting good at this. That’s two wins in a row.” I chuckle, leaning back in my chair.
“Took me long enough. We’ve been playing this damn game for over two years.”
“Has it really been that long?” I say, feigning surprise as I flutter my eyelashes at him. “Guess I wasn’t paying attention.”
I let him think it’s just playful banter, but the truth is, my mind has been elsewhere all night, so much so that he ended up besting me with little to no effort.
“Please,” Jude smirks while resetting the pieces. “You notice every little detail. Nothing gets by Lady Crane.”
“Ew. Please don’t call me that.” I scrunch my nose, hating such formality to come out of such a gorgeous mouth.
“If I remember correctly, that’s how you introduced yourself when we first met.”
“Was I that snotty?” I ask, my shoulders slumping a tad.
“If by snotty, you mean a bit of a brat, then yeah, you were.” He laughs while continuing to rearrange the chess pieces on the board.
“The truth finally comes out, I see.” I giggle. “And here I thought I’ve been a total delight throughout your entire stay here.”
“You have your moments.” He winks. “One more game before we call it a night?”
As if I could deny him anything.
“Sure. What time is it anyway?”
“A quarter to one,” he replies absentmindedly after glancing at his watch, already focused on the strategy for the game.
“Really?” I ask, glancing at the old grandfather clock across the room to check the time.
“Yeah. Why?”
“That means I’m officially eighteen.” I exhale deeply, the weight of that realization settling into my bones and sending a cold shiver down my spine.
“I guess you are.” Jude smiles, but his gaze doesn’t quite meet mine.
My brows knit together at his sudden aloofness.
“So that means it’s been exactly two years since you crashed my birthday party,” I say, hoping to chip away at the wall he’s just put up.
“I thought you weren’t paying attention,” he counters, eyes still fixed on the chessboard, waiting for my first move.
“I lied.”
When he doesn’t say anything to that, I move my pawn on the board and start the game. I don’t miss how his tense shoulders relax slightly now that he can pretend to put all his focus on the game instead of having to talk about my birthday.
“Jude, can I ask you something?” I question once the awkward silence gets to be too much.
“Can I stop you?”
“Do you regret it?” I reply, bypassing his teasing remark. “Coming here, I mean.”
He shakes his head. “I’ve learned a lot here. How could I regret that?”
“I don’t know. Maybe because you haven’t been home since,” I retort, wondering if that’s the reason why his mood soured so suddenly. Being reminded that he hasn’t seen his family in the last two years must sting.
“Mina,” he warns, the edge in his voice clear.
“I’m sure they miss you, Jude. Just like you miss them. Are you really so proud that—”
“It’s not about pride,” he cuts me off. “I told you already. Just leave it.”
That no-nonsense tone of his makes it clear—this conversation is officially over.
“Fine. Your move,” I grumble, hating that he’s acting like this.
Jude continues the game, but my mind suddenly drifts to tomorrow’s challenge. And before I know it, I’m asking him another probing question about his family.
“Why do people call your mum the Red Queen?”
“What’s with the twenty questions all of a sudden?” he asks, not hiding his annoyance.
“Because that’s what we do. We play chess, and we talk,” I remind him, sounding just as annoyed with him as he is apparently with me.
I hold his gaze steadily, never wavering until he’s the first to look away in defeat.
“It’s a long story,” he finally explains.
“You’ve told me plenty of long stories before. Why is this one any different?”
“Fine,” he relents with a deep-rooted scowl. “People call her that because, back in the day, she killed her own father along with the man who tried to stage a coup against mine.”
“Really?” My eyes widen at this new piece of information. “I thought the Outfit didn’t induct women into its ranks.”
“They don’t. But my mother was raised in this life, and when the time came, she didn’t hesitate to protect her family.”
“I see.”
“My father hates the name, though,” Jude adds, albeit reluctantly. “He believes the nickname is used to diminish her, to strip away her power.”
“And what do you think?” I probe further.
“I think a title like that sends a message—that no one should fuck with my family.”
The small tug at his lips says it all.
“You’re proud of her.”
“I am,” he replies without hesitation this time. “And I always will be.”
The sad hue in his gaze has me moving the conversation away from his mother and onto what’s really on my mind.
“Does that mean you are in favor of women being inducted into the syndicates?”
“I am,” he replies flatly, leaving no room for doubt. “A woman has as much a right to being made as any man. Honor, loyalty, and duty are not just concepts adhered to by the male sex. And it’s long overdue that a woman’s role in our world is recognized as more than just who she marries.”
“A conscientious mafioso and a feminist.” I sigh, feeling my heart swell in my chest at the conviction in his voice. “You really are different.”
His forehead creases in confusion, just like it always does when I say such things to him.
“Are we done with your little interrogation now?” He lets out a long-winded exhale.
“I think I’m satisfied for tonight,” I tease.
“Good.” He relaxes in his seat.
“Though there is still one bone I want to pick with you.”
“What now?”
“You still haven’t wished me happy birthday.”
His shy smile crests on his lips, and I all but melt in my seat.
“How about we play the rest of the game, and I give you your birthday present instead?”
“You bought me a present?” I ask excitedly, completely taken aback by his thoughtfulness.
“Of course I did.” He shakes his head as if I should know better than to ask such a thing. “I was going to give it to you tomorrow during your party—”
“Nope. Tonight is better,” I interrupt, since who knows what will happen tomorrow night.
The dead can’t unwrap birthday presents.
I shake that thought away and smile instead.
“Fine.” He laughs, looking more like himself. “Can we finish the game first?”
“Nope.” I clap, jumping giddily in my seat. “I’m too excited. I want you to give it to me now.”
His eyes darken slightly before he gathers himself, and my cheeks flush at the fact that he might have picked up the connotation behind my double entendre.
Thankfully, Jude doesn’t acknowledge my slip of the tongue, preferring to get up from his seat to retrieve a small box from his inner coat pocket. I swallow dryly as he places it in my hands.
“Well, don’t just stare at it. Open it.”
My heart is hammering so loud that it takes me a second to open the velvet box. When I finally do it, I find a gold necklace inside with a stunning round pendant, boldly engraved with the letter ‘M’ and ‘C’ entwined together. I then turn it over, revealing an intricate chessboard design with an elegantly detailed queen piece standing proudly at the center.
“I… I don’t know what to say. It’s… it’s beautiful,” I stammer, tongue-tied and amazed by the pendant’s custom detail and fine craftsmanship.
“Do you like it?” he asks, his voice softer than usual.
“I love it,” I reply just as softly, completely in awe of the thought he put behind such a gift. “Will you put it on me?” I ask, handing it to him before turning my back and lifting my hair from my neck.
I stand like that for what feels like an eternity before I feel Jude press his chest to my back, his breathing sounding shallow to my ears.
“Which side do you want?” he asks hoarsely, his lips so close they almost graze my ear.
“The one with my initials,” I breathe out, turning my head just a smidge, meeting his gaze with mine. “I want the chessboard close to my heart.”
I watch his Adam’s apple bob twice before he breaks eye contact with me to fasten the necklace around my neck. Once it’s in place, I let my hair back down and run my fingers through it before I turn around to face him.
“Thank you.”
Our chests heave in unison as we stare into each other’s eyes, neither one wanting to be the first to step away from the other.
“It looks good on you,” he says, his voice dropping an octave when his gaze flickers to the pendant nestled in between the swell of my breasts.
“I’ll keep it forever.”
My insides feel like they have been set aflame with the unnamed fire in his eyes, and when he leans forward until our faces are within a hair’s breadth away from each other, I instinctively hold onto his forearms, fearing I might faint at any moment.
“Happy birthday, Mina,” he susurrates, leaning in and placing the tenderest of kisses on my cheek, so close to the corner of my lips that I pretend he missed his mark on purpose.
Maybe if I die tomorrow, it won’t be so bad.
Not if it means I still have tonight.
But then, he shatters the spell he cast on me by stepping back and away from me.
“It’s late. We should call it a night. You have a big day tomorrow.”
“But we haven’t finished our game,” I protest, unwilling to let this night slip away just yet.
“Mina.” He exhales sharply through his nose.
“Just one last game. You wouldn’t refuse me on my birthday, would you?”
His jaw tightens. “You’re making it very hard not to,” he mutters, but after a pregnant pause, he walks back to his chair, conceding to my request.
Relief floods through me as I quickly settle back into my seat. I twirl the pendant between my fingers, my voice soft but deliberate. “I really do love this necklace.”
“I’m glad,” he says, though his gaze quickly shifts away from my chest, locking onto the board in front of us instead.
“But,” I add, “I have to admit, I was expecting a different kind of gift tonight.”
Jude lifts his head, a flicker of confusion in his eyes. “Oh?”
God, he’s pretty to look at.
Not too quick, but devilishly handsome all the same.
“Tell you what,” I muse, leaning in just slightly. “Since you’re on a winning streak, I’ll tell you what I really wanted if you win this game. And maybe next year, you’ll consider it.”
His brow arches. “And if I lose?”
“Then I’ll just take my gift from you tonight.”
“Take?” His eyes narrow, searching my gaze for a clue on what I’m really up to.
“Hmm.” I nod, pressing my lips together to keep from giving too much away.
“Not sure how I feel about playing a game when I don’t know all the rules.”
“It’s chess. You know the rules by heart,” I say innocently.
“I know those rules,” he counters while running a hand through his hair. “Just not yours. Why do I feel like I’m walking into a trap?”
“You’re not.”
He is.
“You can always say no,” I add with an innocent shrug. “I won’t pressure you.”
“It kind of feels like you are, birthday girl.”
“Woman,” I correct, my voice firmer than I intended.
His hazel eyes hold mine, unblinking. “Yes… woman.” His voice drops an octave, becoming rough and husky.
“So?” I breathe. “Are you in or out?”
I know I’m baiting him, but sometimes a woman has to play dirty to get what she wants.
He glances at his watch again, lets a few tense seconds pass, and then sighs. “Fine. I’m on a roll tonight anyway. Hope you’re ready to get your ass beat, Crane.”
“Oh, I’m ready, Romano.”
I’ve been ready.
Moves are made, pieces fall, and then, “Checkmate,” I declare triumphantly.
Jude exhales, shaking his head. “You won. And with the Queen’s Gambit, no less.”
“I did.” I smile, giddy at his proficiency in knowing that opening.
“So what now?”
“And now it’s time for this queen to claim her prize,” I tell him, pushing back from the table and rising slowly to my feet.
His breath catches in his throat as I step toward him, closing the space between us. He doesn’t move, doesn’t flinch—just sits there, hands clenched into fists on his thighs, as if bracing himself.
I reach for them, gently prying his fingers open. They yield to me instantly.
“This won’t hurt,” I whisper, slipping onto his lap and guiding one of his arms around me.
“Mina, what are you—”
I press a finger against his lips, silencing him. His eyelids flutter shut.
Then, taking his other hand, I press it to my pendant, covering it with my own.
“I love my necklace,” I murmur, leaning in, my lips just a breath away from his. “And I promise, I’ll never take it off,” I pause, needing to take a fortifying breath. “But there’s just some things a woman wants that money can’t buy.”
“And what’s that?” he asks, his breath ragged.
“A kiss,” I whisper. “I want you to kiss me.”
His eyes snap open, the flecks of gold in his eyes burning brightly at me.
“Is that really what you want?”
“More than anything.”
My heart is pounding now, slamming against my rib cage, but my resolve will not be deterred.
He watches me intently, searching, as if looking for a reason in my eyes to walk away.
Some hesitation he can use against me.
But there is none.
This is what I want.
“Kiss me,” I whisper again, needing to break through his resistance. “One little kiss.”
“Just one?” he asks as if trying to justify it to himself.
“Hmm. Just one,” I lie.
If Jude kisses me tonight, if he gives in, then there is no way I won’t do everything in my power to break through his armor and get him to kiss me again. Even if that means I have to wait for another birthday to do it.
And then, I feel it.
His hand slips from my grip on the pendant, threading into my hair, to gently pull me in closer. My breath hitches in anticipation, closing my eyes and letting him lead the way.
“For you, Mina,” he breathes before brushing his lips against mine, soft and tentative, sending a spark of electricity coursing through me.
Time ceases to exist at this moment, and I can’t help but melt into his embrace.
Everything about him has hardened over the years, and yet his lips remain gentle and firm. I perch my palms on his hard chest as I lean in to savor his taste, humming in delight when I find the lingering taste of the old, aged whiskey he’d been drinking earlier—smooth with just a hint of spice and nutmeg.
Needing a bigger hit, I wrap my arms around his neck and let my tongue lick the seam of his bottom lip, his earthy, smoky scent only adding to the intoxication I already feel. When I use my teeth to dig into his flesh, Jude’s grip tightens on the nape of my neck, his lips instantly parting for me, no longer happy in playing the part of a bystander.
My heart races, hammering against my chest like a wild bird trying to break free from its cage as my tongue shyly probes his to a game of catch. A low whimper escapes me when he deepens the kiss, his tongue commanding, craving the taste of every hidden crevice in my mouth. His fingers dig into my neck, his arm tightening his hold around my waist as I squirm on his lap, feeling his whole body harden by our salacious kiss. I come up for air for just a fraction of a second before I dive right into him, wanting to learn every secret he’s ever kept from me. My fingers tug at the strands of his hair, and my breasts are fully pressed against his chest. Still, I feel like I can’t get close enough. I feel that I need more… so much more than what he’s giving me.
When I feel his cock harden beneath me—a tell-tale sign that he’s as turned on as I am—I all but combust in his arms.
“That’s enough!” he growls before carefully shoving me off his lap so he can stand.
My eyelids are so heavy with want and desire that it takes me a second to see him clearly.
But when I finally see him, I bite my lower lip, witnessing that he is just as much tormented by that kiss as I am.
“Are you satisfied?” he asks accusingly.
“If I said no, would you kiss me again?”
“No,” he deadpans, taking the wind out of my sails. “That… can’t happen again.”
“If you say so.”
“I mean it, Mina. We can’t go there. We can never go there again.”
“We’ll see.” I throw him a mischievous grin, walking past him. But before I can get too far, he grabs me by the arm, halting my step. He stares into my eyes as if wanting to repeat his warning. To tell me once more that what just happened can never happen again. But the words never come. They wither on his tongue the moment his gaze drops down to my lips—lips he bruised, claimed, and devoured with that desperate, ardent kiss.
I smile, slow and knowing.
“Thank you for my birthday presents. I’ll cherish them both.”
He swallows dryly, but he says nothing.
Leaning in, I press the softest kiss to his cheek, letting my lips linger just long enough to make him hurt.
Then, without another word, I turn and walk away, leaving him alone to wrestle with the weight of what we’ve done.
Lord knows I’ll never forget it.