“Absolutely,” she declares, attempting to cross her arms but swaying slightly. “I've been practicing. Well, not really, but I've been thinking about our games. And I know all your tricks now.”
“Alright, let’s see if tonight’s your lucky night,” I tell her, getting up and walking to the kitchen. I pour a glass of water and grab the chessboard on my way back to her.
She beams at me when she spots the board, sitting up, and I have to catch her before she can topple off the sofa. I bring the glass to her mouth and hold it up for her as she drinks the water, fighting the urge to replace the glass with my lips and kiss her. Christ, her lips look so soft and warm—I bet they taste fucking good too.
“Remember what I told you about chess?” I ask, setting the glass down and arranging the board between us.
“That you're the best,” she says with an eye roll, then grins. “But I'm the best at ballet, so we're even.”
I smirk. “I played chess before I could read," I tell her, placing the half-empty glass on the table then grabbing the chessboard. "My father wanted someone to play with but none of my brothers were interested in chess, so I learned it, beat him, and became a master of the game."
“I know, I know. You've told me a thousand times," she says, waving her hand dismissively as she watches me as I organize the pieces, each of which I carved with my own hands. Her eyes are slightly unfocused, but there's determination in them. "But tonight's different. Tonight, I have a secret weapon."
"And what's that?"
"Wine courage," she announces proudly, making me laugh.
My initial interest with chess was surface level and was a way for my father and me to bond but I soon realized how much I enjoyed reading and manipulating people. It’s why I’m the best at what I do. My brothers are such impatient brutes, often demanding results with their fists and it doesn't always work for them. There is a reason why I’m the deal maker of the family, why I get to travel all over the place and close million-dollar arms deals for my family.
And right now, I'm about to close the most important deal of my life.
“This place is only a few blocks from your theatre,” I say, making a move on the board. “You won’t have to use the subway or catch a taxi to rehearsal from here.”
“Really?” she says absently, gnawing her bottom lip with her teeth as she contemplates her move. “The subway is full of weirdos. This one time…oh, I’m gonna move my knight here.”
I shake my head, pointing at the piece she should move. “You won’t have to deal with weirdos if you commute from here.”
“Hmm,” she hums, ignoring my advice and making a terrible move that I don’t correct. Instead, I counter with my own terrible move. “Your place is so nice too.”
“It’s safer and more spacious than the place you share with all those other girls. You could stay here with me and have all the space you need. I have a gym with enough space you can use to practice ballet, too."
“You do?” she whispers, finally lifting those pretty eyes to mine.
“I do.” I make a move after she makes hers. “Think about it. You won’t have to deal with creeps in a crowded subway or be scared every time you have to go home late. It’s a ten-minute walk with plenty of security, and I can always pick you up or send my driver since it's so close."
She bites her lip as she considers my words. “I can't," she responds as she always does when anyone brings up the subject of helping her move into a better place. She turned down Matteo, Sofia, and my help when we all offered it after she chose to leave her childhood home, stating she didn't need handouts and wanted to do it on her own. Sentiments I would admire and respect if I weren't constantly worried for her. “I’ve been saving up, and I think I can afford to move into my own studio apartment in a few months. I just need to be patient until then.”
I listen intently, as I always do, knowing I’ll get my way at the end anyway. It's going to take her forever to save enough for a deposit and rent for a place. Hell, she’ll be lucky to find ashoebox to live in with how brutal and bloody the New York City housing market is.
“Tell you what, how about we make a bet?"
“A bet?”
“If I win this game, you move in with me.”
“Hey, not fair,” she whines, but there’s a spark of competitive fire in her eyes—the same one I see every time we play. “You never lose.”
“There's a first time for everything,” I say with a shrug. “Unless you're afraid you can't beat me?”
Her chin lifts stubbornly. “I’m not afraid. I almost had you last time.”
“Almost doesn't count.”
“Fine. Deal.” She reaches across to shake my hand with exaggerated formality, then immediately makes her opening move with renewed confidence.
Perfect.
I make a deliberately sloppy response, leaving my queen vulnerable. Her eyes widen as she spots it immediately.
