Novel & Cerita The Queen's Gambit

“You can vouch for her?” the Queen asked. “She did this.” “She did,” Prime Beta confirmed. The Queen looked over to me. She pulled the ribbon away from Ophelia, where she had been about to pin it to Ophelia’s lapel. “You did this?” she asked me. “Yes,” I said. “Then you are the winner, Luna Princess,” the Queen said. The crowd looked at each other. Only a few started to cheer. My vision grew dark once more and I swayed on the horse’s saddle. Between one long blink and the next, I started to fall.

Her blood ran cold. It showed three women. Elena. The Queen. And another woman. A woman Ava had never seen before. On the back of the photograph was written: THE FOURTH HEIR. Ava looked at the Queen. "Who is she?" The Queen's expression changed. For the first time, genuine fear appeared in her eyes. "That's..." She couldn't finish. Ethan stepped closer. "Mother?" The Queen whispered: "Your grandmother." Ava frowned. "She's alive?"

I chased bigger numbers, riskier locations, darker kinks. I let them film me. I let them collar me permanently. I became the Queen in every sense — cold, dominant, insatiable, and deeply, deeply broken. Sophia became my constant companion in the madness, pushing me further, whispering that Liam never truly understood me. But late at night, when the men had left and the apartment was silent again, I would curl up in Liam’s old shirt and cry until I had no tears left. The Queen had won the battle. But she was slowly killing the woman who still loved him with her entire shattered heart. To be continued…

Brandon lowered his head, pressing his lips against the warm skin behind Robin’s ear, his voice loud enough to echo in the private box: "The necklace is fifty million, Robin. But the queen wearing it is priceless." Up on the balcony, framed by diamonds and draped in emerald fire, Robin rested her hand over Brandon’s forearm, looking down at the ruined, terrified faces of Dane and Nicole below with a chilling, victorious smile.

She almost didn’t reach the bucket in the corner as it came out as quickly as it had gone in. She was still heaving when the doors opened again. When the sound of heavy boots started to echo in the warehouse. 'My Queen...' Gavin's weak voice in the mindlink forced her to look up at the cage above hers just as the Hunters' started walking down her aisle. 'My Queen... Be strong. Please,' Gavin continued. She completely forgot about him! How could she call herself a queen when she could easily put him aside when they probably only caught him because of her?

Her mother looked every inch a gothic queen in rubies and black opals. Next came Bessa and Deandra, daring and dazzling, smiling wickedly as they claimed the floor. Then, one by one, the Council witches. Power radiated from them, sharp and undeniable. I held my breath as the herald raised his voice. “Lord Alister Silverlake and the Queen Witch Supreme, Aminda Loretta Bettencourt.” My jaw tightened. With him? Rage boiled as I yanked at my bow tie. Her silver-blond hair fell in perfect waves, black-tipped strands swaying to her waist. Diamonds glittered across her black gown, clinging to every curve. The neckline plunged low—too low. My fists curled. No one else should look at her that way.

The still-lit main monitor blinked, displaying white text on a black screen: Welcome to the real game, Victoria. You think you're close to the truth? Even Gerard is just a pawn in this game. Want to know who really killed your mother? Meet me where it all began. Room 1402, UBS Geneva. The real game is about to start. - The Queen The sound of steps could be heard approaching in the hallway. Vic clutched Dufort's USB drive, exchanging glances with Alexandra. “We need to move,” Alexandra whispered. “Now.”

I nodded, my throat tight with both fear and victory. The phone was cheap, disposable, but to me it was priceless. I sank onto the bed, fingers flying over the screen. I couldn’t risk plain words. King’s men would read everything. So I wrote in code. A story only Liam would know. I reminded him of that night on his balcony, when I told him about the old chess set my mother gave me, and how he taught me that the queen was the most dangerous piece on the board because no one expected her to move so freely. He called it the Queen’s Gambit.

DARANA “Don't forget Rana, your main focus should be on Caliste Titterington and nothing else. We can't afford to mess this up”. Gemma’s firm voice filtered through the invisible Bluetooth device in my ear. “Got it” I muttered as my eyes scanned the crowd for the woman in particular. She was standing at the center in a green glittering dress that was hard to miss. Caliste Titterington. Queen of the Titterington empire as people liked to call her. Our latest victim.

Her chest heaved like she had run miles. Bianca perched beside her, eyes darting between Queen’s face and the TV. “I thought you said you and Oswald were fine now,” she said, voice trembling just a bit. “Why is he looking for another lady? Who is she, Queen?” Queen swallowed hard, throat dry as paper. She stared ahead for a beat, trying to find her voice. “She was his maid,” she rasped finally, rubbing her temple. “Just… just the maid.” “Just the maid?!” Bianca repeated, eyes wide in disbelief. “He is putting her face on TV and offering money for her! Queen, what is going on?”