The Queen's Gambit Novels & Stories

“Poor girl doesn’t even know her husband hostile bought it out.” My blood ran cold. It was like Throne didn’t just want to punish me. He wanted to break me. Piece by piece. How could my husband of all people to be the one behind that hostile buyout. That casino was my father’s hard work, and he knew it. “You did it?” I asked, staring at him. He didn’t deny it. Just offered me that insufferable smirk. “All because I didn’t let your little mistress win a tiara?” Still no answer. Just a clap of his hands as he turned toward the room. “All right,” Thorne called out. “Anyone who wishes to compete for the grand prize, please take your seat.”

** The Queen’s Gambit** Paris, France – The Ghost in the Room The air in the château’s grand hall felt heavy—thick with tension and disbelief. Isabella stood frozen, her heart hammering as she stared at the woman on the staircase. Marcella Devereaux. Dressed in black silk, her hair swept into a sleek knot, she descended the staircase with the elegance of a queen reclaiming her throne. But it wasn’t just the sight of her that sent chills down Isabella’s spine.

The elevator came to an abrupt stop, and when they stepped out, there was the owner of the voice over the phone. The next few minutes were of them walking along a room that smelled of ink and newly cut paper. Also, running machines drowned everyone else's voices in the expansive, intricate garage-like room. Women in undies piled up the stacks of finished bills and arranged them in a cart next to them. Everyone was engrossed in their work, and aside from a few brave women who mustered the courage to meet his gaze, everyone else kept their eyes fixed downward. "Mama Mia," Rune said under his breath.

Said it was protocol. But I saw the way she looked at him, like a crack had formed in her heart. A single, jagged line. And I smiled. Cracks deepen. Especially when no one notices them growing. But there was a risk. Camellia. That old woman watched me too closely. She had the eyes of someone who had seen this trick before. She didn’t trust me. Never had. One afternoon, I passed her in the garden. She paused, planting a fresh herb beside a row of green onions.

/bəmp/ past tense: bumped; knock or run into someone or something with a jolt. Laila Asteria Bertelli grew up with a loving mother and a younger brother, her father left them. Now she is becoming a Doctor of Physical Therapy. She aspires to become a doctor someday, she wants to help people but at night she is the queen of the night. She wanted to taste blood, a bit of fun, and a little danger. She wanted to experience life because her nose is always stuck in a book her whole life.

I said nodding towards a sleeping Alida and Ray lifted an eyebrow at me. “Just by judging this note, it is a female obviously as you said, but it’s got to be someone who’s close to the King in order for her to think that the crown belongs to her. Evidently she’s believed for who knows how many years, that she was next in line to be Queen, but by what means of becoming Queen is unknown.” Ray blabbered on while staring at the note again. “What do you mean by “means” exactly?” I asked.

"No! Please don't!" I felt like my heart was breaking. I never imagined I'd be assaulted like this, let alone by four poor men. Just then, a woman's voice called out, "Stop!" We all looked toward the door. It was none other than my colleague, Eva Anderson. Eva was in her 30s, with skin so well-maintained that it was smooth, firm, and so delicate that it looked like it might break at the slightest touch. Not to mention, her impressive breasts were in no way inferior to mine.

The Queen's Gambit The estate had fallen into silence. Not the peaceful kind. The kind that followed violence. The kind that settled over a place still trying to remember how to breathe. Valentina lay motionless beneath the covers, her eyes fixed on the darkness above her. Sleep hovered just beyond reach, slipping away each time she reached for it. The moment she closed her eyes... The ambush returned. The deafening crack of gunfire. Glass exploding like rain. The suffocating smell of smoke and gunpowder.

Questions remained unanswered. Across Valdoria, few remembered Lana Marcone as she truly was. They remembered only the story that endured. The Queen who betrayed her King.

We fell silent for a moment, and I noticed Adele staring at me from the side; she knew me like the back of her hand, and I knew there was no way out. "Who?" she asks. "I can't tell you here," I sigh. "Eyes and ears everywhere," I mumble. "Plus, it's not like it's anything special; we've only met twice and had basically one conversation, if you can call it that," I mumble to myself. "Jessica Garcia, even thinking about a man is the most absurd thing anyone has ever heard." I roll my eyes at her dramatics; it wasn't like it was a big thing; Dominic was just a forbidden fruit that I seemed to be drawn to.