Chapter Eleven
Elio
The silence was deafening.
Beyond ridiculous was the perfect way to describe my actions. The chess, the bargain. It was out of character. I never behaved this way. I never stooped to such levels to allow myself an opportunity to kill someone.
Never once had I tried to prove to myself and some amateur that she couldn’t undermine me. Her little warning on the rooftop grated on me. It was a petty feeling. Immature. It shouldn’t matter. But it did.
Maybe that was the reason I was pissed. She had snuck right underneath my skin. She compelled a wave of unnecessary anger from me, and the distaste of that feeling was far from appreciated.
She had no right to mess with my focus the way she did, and now cheating in my casino, gambling with thievery. It was egregious.
I was irritated by it.
The whole buildup had led to this very moment, with her sitting across from me, the chessboard between us, my people behind me, while her friends stood behind her.
An aura of uncertainty lingered in the air around us, and judging by the look on her face, she would most likely lose every penny she had stolen. Her stubborn eyes lifted from the chessboard, and our gazes locked. She didn’t look away, and neither did I.
It was unnerving how she portrayed the stance of being in control. Jaw set, eyes hard and calculating. It made me curious to know how she had groomed herself into doing it.
Curious, she made me curious. Her personality was intriguing; it was so like mine, familiar but unfamiliar.
I had gone out of my way to dig up information about her life after the move to Italy, but there was nothing very useful.
I knew she had been sold, so my search was restricted.
I still had questions: How was she here?
How had she escaped whoever had bought her?
If she was bought from Saudi Arabia, why hadn’t she attempted to go back home?
Why was her mother’s record wiped clean?
Why did she feel … made-up? Who was my brother sleeping with?
She was a frustrating mystery. I do not like mysteries.
She looked away first, her focus settling on the board as we began.
All eyes were on us.
And I watched her.
Her long fingers hovered on the board, and her confidence dwindled. A few seconds into it, her face finally hinted at what and how she was feeling. Her brows were drawn down in a frown, almost as if she was unsure of the first move to make.
When she made it … I relaxed.
She was an idiot.
I found her eyes on me when I looked up.
In Spanish, I spoke while making my move. “If you didn’t know how to play, why did you agree to my terms?”
“I have never been known to back down from a challenge,” she responded before looking down and making another dumb move.
I shook my head, already mapping out my first win with my next move. “How did you survive this far with such low thinking capacity?”
Move after move, she was losing.
A smile curved at the side of her lips. “I have been told countless times how amazing I am. I think that quality serves as the charm of my essence.”
“I’m afraid I don’t see it,” I responded, switching to English as I made my next move and said, “Checkmate.”
She sucked in a breath, sitting up as she watched the board.
Dog leaned into Zahra’s side. “You should fucking quit this.”
She was quiet, studying the board before answering him without looking away. “Didn’t you hear? I have no choice. Not only is our money on the line, but my life is too.”
We started the second round, and it was the same thing. She made lousy moves, throwing herself off. I would have suggested she did it all on purpose if I didn’t know better.
“At least make an effort to pretend like you know what you’re doing,” I said.
Her brows came down in a frown. “Stop talking,” she responded without looking up.
She made her move, opening the ground floor for me to win the second round.
“You realize if you lose this, you’re dying.”
Her fist clenched and unclenched. “You made that very clear.”
After three more moves, I called checkmate, and the look on her face was the definition of unsettled.
“Let me take her place,” Devil said, seeing that the odds weren’t in her favor. “Same terms.”
“No.”
“It’s clearly a rip-off; she doesn’t know how to play the game—”
I shot him a glare. “Not another word from you. Stay out of this.”
“This is fucking—”
“It’s okay,” she cut in. “I can handle this.”
Upper shook his head slowly. “You’re losing, love. Embarrassingly.”
She looked back at the board as I arranged it. “We still have three winning rounds. There’s still hope. I love my kneecaps too much to risk them,” she said, her smile taunting.
I was irritated by the unseriousness in her voice. The control.
We started the next round. Her first move was a disappointment; I almost felt sorry for her.
She was the most terrible chess opponent I’d ever had.
Her confidence should be giving her a good dose of embarrassment now.
I wasn’t in her shoes, but I knew I would have called it quits at this point, with all the eyes watching us.
But she kept going, and I kept clearing her pawns off the board.
With my eyes closed, I could take a hundred to none wins from her.
I shook my head when she made a move that elicited groans from the people behind her.
As we made move after move, I knew there was no way she was winning this.
She was an insult to the game of—
“Checkmate.”
My thoughts seized, and I stopped short, allowing my mind to replay her move as my eyes studied the board.
When I caught my mistake, my jaw clenched.
Someone whistled.
“Where’s your mind?” she asked me, voice leveled.
When I raised my head, I caught her gaze, shimmering with a smugness that pulled out a glare from me.
Her smile widened.
I sat up. “Next round.”
I reset the board again, and we started.
Her demeanor changed completely, making my ability to read her next move nonexistent.
For a casual game, this round surpassed forty minutes, and thoughts were placed into moves.
The tension around us escalated by the long minutes. Move after move, my anger flared. I became utterly uneasy, and I loosened the tie around my neck.
“You are too open.” Her voice pierced through my concentration.
My gaze shifted across the board, and I thought hard before making my next move. She couldn’t see her win. It was covered. Only a professional would spot it.
If she made the wrong move now, I would win the round with only two moves.
Her brows fell in a frown, taking the bait. She let a breath fall through, and then she made her move.
My eyes snapped up the moment she raised her eyes from the board.
She smiled before saying, “Checkmate.”
“Fucking diabolical,” Upper said, heaving a breath.
She relaxed back. “This is fun?” A grin split across her lips, and Devil scoffed in amusement. “I’m having so much fun,” she continued, ignoring the look on my face. “Last game, champ?”
After the last round, I sat upright as the briefcase was handed to the hollering demons behind her.
She had won.
Not for one second did her eyes leave mine to celebrate her victory with her friends; there was a taunting smile playing at her lips as she raised a brow at me, extending her hand for a handshake.
My gaze dropped to her hand, before lifting to her face again.
I swallowed my immature pride, joining my hand with hers and …
Warm and small.
Her hand was warm and small. It held a sense of delicateness that didn’t suit her abrasive character or the foul words that fell from her lips each time she opened her mouth.
Her fingers were long with chipped red nail polish.
Messy. Like her.
She visibly took in a breath, her smile faltering a little, an action that made me wonder what had passed through her mind at that second.
“Good game,” I told her, and her smile widened at the comment.
“Of course, this thing called luck, right? It’s been blowing my mind all night, and now this? I don’t—I still can’t—wow.”
My jaw clenched. “You are twenty-six, you shouldn’t be this annoying.”
She frowned. “I didn’t know being annoying came with an age limit. I thought anyone of any age could be annoying, did I miss something growing up?”
“Oh, I’m sure you missed a lot of things growing up, common sense being one of them.”
She nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, probably, it’s why I get myself in these situations, you know.
But honestly, if we truly look at it, in a way, you came to me for a game, and you said it was going to be nothing serious, so you shouldn’t be too beat up about it, right?
It’s just chess. Some people are better than some.
It’s unfortunately the way the world works. ”
My gaze flickered between her eyes. “I truly don’t like you.”
Her eyes twinkled and her lips twitched in a smile. “But you sure do like holding my hand.”
I stilled. My attention dropped to our hands, still held together.
I lifted my eyes to meet her purposeful stare before jerking my hand back and shooting to my feet.
I buttoned up my suit, righted my tie, and cleared my throat, looking everywhere but at her.
“Come with me; let’s see about that renegotiating you discussed. ”
“Gladly,” she said, and I watched from the corner of my eye as she stood, her bare stomach on display for a second before she pulled down the half-shirt-like cloth she wore.
Someone cleared their throat rather loudly, and I tore my eyes from Zahra to find one of her friends … the Dog one, staring at me with a slight frown. It was obvious he’d caught me staring. “Just to be clear, we’re not getting in trouble for this, right?”
Zahra’s attention was on me once more before she looked at Dog with a frown. “Of course not. What are you doing? Trying to remind him that we should be in trouble?”
Ignoring them, I moved to leave. “Someone will bring you up. Don’t keep me waiting.”
“I’ll come with,” Elia said.
“No.” I pinned him with a stern look. “She’ll come alone.”
Elia frowned; there was a warning in his eyes that had me grunting another addition to my statement. “She’ll return alive,” I said with a twinge of disinterest, but he didn’t budge. I almost groaned when I added, “Unharmed.”
His features relaxed as he looked at the woman, who didn’t seem fazed by our exchange.
“Z, if—”
“It’s fine,” she told him. “I can take care of myself.”
“You’re sure?” he asked her, an undeniable concern shining in his eyes. “I can take care of it if you—”
“I’m sure, Devil. I can handle him.”
My insides clenched, and I looked away when I realized I wasn’t just looking at Elia and … her, I was staring. “Escort her up,” I said to one of the men who’d accompanied me downstairs before walking away, more troubled than I’d been before I came down.