Thomas Brodie Sangster The Queen's Gambit Novels & Stories

He has a hint of a Russian accent despite the fact that I know his family has been in America for at least two generations. We know they retain strong ties with their motherland both commercially and socially just like we do. We smuggle our guns from the NRA and they get their drugs, their weapons, their counterfeits from their contacts in Eurasia. I’ve heard tell that Roman not only works with the Bratva but also the Triad and the Yakuza. I heard tell that Yelena Kim Dobreva – their late mother – was not only of Asian descent but had ties to both organized crime families. Something about the Korean war, forbidden romance and other such shenanigans.

It seems like something they'd do, self-assured pricks, lawless mongrels who don't fear death. Only, the reaper's finally come for them. "The Queen's Gambit," Ariadne whispers. There's no answer for a long ten seconds. Then Ariadne hears the door unlock, metal sliding against something that needs oil. Hinges creak, and Ariadne's greeted with a blast of warm air. "That's an old password," the Beta informs her before his eyes flicker with interest. "Oh." "That's the one I remember," Ariadne says, studying the man.

Yet the teardrop mole at the corner of his eye lent a subtle grace to his otherwise austere expression. Inside the box lay a floor-length gown of deep green tulle. The bodice shimmered faintly with scales—snake scales—stitched into the fabric. I had never seen such a beautiful dress. For a moment, I was completely captivated. "Clarice," Draco said calmly, "this gown was hand-stitched by our serpent clan's finest seamstresses. Each scale was a blessing offered by our people." His gaze carried a deliberate detachment, as if the person marrying me wasn't him at all.

Thomas gave a lazy salute, both arms on full display—ink from wrist to shoulder, bold lines and dark florals that looked like they might move if he did. “And that’s Brody,” Teddy continued, nodding toward the redhead beside him. Brody was all freckles and charm, a mess of curls and a crooked grin that said he knew exactly how adorable he was. “I’m on bass. I provide the heart and the hips.” Just then, the door behind me swung open again. Ophelia stepped out, phone still in hand, frowning down at her screen. “Ugh,” she muttered. “He’s the devil in a Patagonia vest. I swear—oh.” Her gaze lifted, locking on Teddy first, then trailing to Thomas and Brody behind him. “Whoa.”

“You saw the threat. You hunted it. You exposed it. Today, you have earned not just my trust—but the court’s respect.” Elira faced the nobles, her voice quiet but unshaking. “I am Elira Stormfang. Once a servant. Once a ghost. Now a queen in all but name. And I will not be broken.” And no one—no one—dared to argue. ---