Page 23 of A Pawn in the Game
“Fuck, no,” he responds.
It’s also another way to draw the bystanders away from the fact that there’s a hostage in our basement.
“Then we’re starting. I want the office gutted.”
“And where will you work out of?”
“I’ll manage.”
“As you wish,šefe.”
I end the call, massaging my temples.
Better check on the hostage.
My footsteps echo in the narrow hallway as I make my way downstairs. I use my key to unlock the door and enter without knocking. This ismyhouse, after all.
Once again, I find her and Marko sitting at the small table, playing chess.
“Having fun?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.
She averts her gaze, but the soft giggle she let out as I was entering the room told me she was.
“I think you’re free to go now,” I say to Marko.
He dips his head and rises from the chair, before collecting his things and leaving the room. Sophie studies the board, and I canpractically see the wheels turning in her head. I drop into the chair across from her. She’s still wearing that hideous sweatshirt, even though I got her new clothes. Actual clothes, this time.
“Is that a new plan of yours?” I ask, and her eyes lift up to mine. She looks better, as if she finally got some rest. The bags under her eyes are less visible, making her thick, long lashes stand out.
“What do you mean?”
“Befriend my men to get out of here.”
“Are your men so easy to manipulate?” Her face is emotionless as she stares straight into my eyes.
“I hope not.”
She simply shrugs in response, shifting her gaze back to the board. Her fingers work to put the pieces back into starting position. Without looking up at me, she asks, “You playing?”
I move a pawn to D4, noticing the corners of her lips pull up a fraction. She moves her pawn to E5.
“How come you’re playing black?” I ask, taking her pawn.
“More realistic.” Once again, she shrugs before moving her knight to C6.
“What do you mean?” I slide my knight to F3, and she places her queen on E7. I protect my pawn.
“White has the first move, right?” she asks, moving her queen to B4. “Check,” she says, not lifting her head from the board, before continuing, “White sets the game.” I slide my bishop to D2. “Black has to play with what it gets.” She takes my pawn. “It doesn’t really get a choice.” I move my bishop to C3, and she responds by moving hers to B4. “So you,boss-man, are white.” My queen slides to D2. Her bishop takes mine, and I take hers with my queen, thinking about her words. She lifts her queen to point at me, before setting her onto C1. “Checkmate.”
I stare at the board, scrambling to find a way out, but she’s right. She bested me in eight moves. A thrill runs through me, my competitiveness blooming. Coming to terms with my defeat, I realize what she said. “Boss-man?”
“Oh, it’s what I call you. In my head.” Her voice is shaky, her cheeks tinting.
A deep rumble pours out of me, the laughter surprising both of us. I laugh through setting the pieces back into starting position. “How about this? You beat me again and I’ll tell you my name.”
“Deal.”
Ten moves later, and she wins the bet.At least I lasted longer this time.
