A Pawn

I glared fiercely at Alexander, who was purposely avoiding my gaze. My hand gripped the side of his shirt tightly.

I was fuming. I was pissed. How could he?

I can't believe this! I'm going to be a pawn in his stupid game! How cruel can this arrogant asshole be?

First, he said we were going for an important meeting, only for us to land in a clubhouse and, as if that isn't enough, he had to use me as some sort of bait or pawn in his selfish, foolish game. Isn't this some sort of gamble?

He's going to play a game of chess with Russo and, if I understand things right here, if he wins, he gets to go with over forty million dollars. And if Russo wins, he'd have me fully. Even the thought of being close to the dangerous man across the table makes me want to puke.

I looked at him, my eyes meeting his. The right side of his lips slowly curled into a smirk. I eyed him warily, my hand still gripping Alexander's shirt tightly.

I don't want to be involved in this. I don't even want to be anywher