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32

Isa

Dima took me to the library after dinner. With his father and Dimitry leading the way and Sacha and Faye trailing behind us, it felt more like a funeral procession than anything resembling a group of dinner companions moving to another room for drinks.

The library seemed to be the only room in the house I’d seen where the curtains were thrown open. The sun had only just started to set despite the late hour, thanks to the summer season this far North, and the brilliant colors flooded the mahogany and gold room with warmth despite the overly extravagant decor.

Dima moved to the bar in the corner of the room, pouring vodka into two tumbler glasses. He carried them over to me, holding out one for me to take. “I’m pregnant,” I said, raising an eyebrow at his disregard for drinking during pregnancy.

“Right,” he said with a slight laugh that hinted that maybe, at one point in time, something other than a monster had existed within him. It was so unsure, so hesitant as he downed the vodka himself and placed the empty glass on the corner of the desk that Pavel sat behind. Dimitry sat in a chair opposite the older man as they discussed something in Russian, Sacha and Faye lingering on a sofa nearby and speaking hurriedly in a language I only recognized a word of here or there with the quick way they blended the words fluently. I suspected it was French, but I hadn’t detected an accent from either of them.

“What are we doing here?” I asked, wincing back my own distaste for the choice of words. I should be grateful to be in the semi-public library instead of locked in Dima’s bedroom with him. My own dread over what would come when night fell made me ask stupid questions, made me stumble over my words when I should have stood strong.

I would not bow.

“I’ve heard Rafael likes to teach you to play,” Dima said, touching my waist and guiding me to the chess set waiting on a table positioned in a nook by the windows. The pang of longing that spread through me for my breakfast nook, with mychess board and my scratched pieces from the streets of Ibiza, nearly took my breath away. “A waste of time if you ask me. Any smart man would spend that time inside you.”

I refused to flinch, to show a reaction to the crude words as he guided me to a chair behind the white pieces. He’d given me the advantage of the first move, automatically discounting me as a true opponent.

It would be the mistake that cost him his life.

I stroked my fingers over the edge of the board, using the familiar feeling and the sight of the checkered pattern to ground myself. To draw myself back to the place where all that mattered were the moves on the board. “Would you like to play?” I asked, forcing my mouth to curve into a soft smile.

Dima took the seat across from me, unbuttoning his suit jacket as he lowered himself gracefully. Bruises had started to form under his eyes, taking away from what I distantly noted was probably a face so handsome it disarmed his victims, but I knew the truth.

I knew the monster that hid behind the pretty facade, because the devil was a gentleman after all.

“Sure, ??? ?????. I would love to play with you,” he said, his lips twisting into a beaming grin. The innuendo sat heavy between us, and I swallowed thickly.

“Should we make it interesting?” I asked, pushing past my nervousness. I’d beaten Rafael, learning and absorbing everything he taught me until the student surpassed the master. Winning against a man who greatly underestimated me would be easy enough.

There were always ways to distract him if it came to it, because nobody said I needed to play fair.

“What did you have in mind?” Dima asked, those grey eyes blazing with molten steel as he leaned into the table. He stretched a hand across, pressing his thumb to my bottom lip and dragging it down. The memory of my first wager with Rafe, the one that had ended in a way that felt so horrific at the time, brought a flush of heat to my face.

If Dima confused it as something he caused, it could only work to my advantage. At least, for that moment in time. All of that would change when it came time for bed.

I needed to buy time.

“If you win, I’ll go to your bed peacefully. I will not struggle or fight,” I said, knowing it would be the best offer he could believe.So soon after my kidnapping, to offer to participate in my own rape would only raise suspicions. But not fighting was in my best interest in the end, and would be better for the baby. I felt certain as his eyes blazed with fire that he could imagine that being true.

That he would know even if I didn’t fight physically, it would still be rape in my mind.

“And if you win?” he asked, licking his lips and nipping at the flesh of the bottom one. “I presume I will not touch you tonight?”

“You do not touch me, and I am allowed to sleep in a room alone,” I agreed. Even if I wanted to tell him he would not win, I refrained from the boast. Better to let him underestimate me. The moment of shock when he lost would be worth suffering through the arrogant grin that claimed his features.

“You have a deal, Isabel,” he said, shifting his hand away from my face and holding it out for me to shake. I did so, pretending that it would mean anything when the very person I negotiated with would renege on his part of the deal. I knew it without a doubt, and I suspected he must know I would too.

But he hoped I would be gullible enough not to, so I pressed forward, stalling for time as I looked down at the board and considered my openings. I went with the Spanish game, knowing it was one of the more common ones and he might assume that meant my education into chess had been basic.

“The Ruy Lopez,” Dima said, clicking his tongue and continuing through his move. “How disappointingly common.” We continued on in silence for several moves, Dima’s eyes feeling too intent on me and studying me far more closely than I would have liked.

There was a moment of curiosity, wondering if he’d not underestimated me as much as I thought he would, but the thought quickly drowned out when Faye stood from the sofa where she and Sacha waited and made her way to Pavel’s desk.

“I did what you wanted,” she said, touching her palms to the surface and leaning into him. “Now we have diamonds to find. Let us leave.”

Pavel leaned back in his seat while I watched, waiting for Dima to make his next move, but his jaw clenched in frustration as he stared down at the board and realized the trap I’d sprung. In one more move, he would be in Check.


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