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“Where’d you learn to play Go?”
I knew an accusation when I heard one. Used to it, unfortunately.
“Korea.” I didn’t offer more, leaning forward to assess my next move.
Outside, music, laughter, and champagne glasses clinking together seeped past the door. My hectic thoughts drowned them out.
I needed to escape.
I’d come for the pendant another day. Another time.
His left brow arched a millimeter. I was sure he wanted to ask what a white American girl was doing in Korea, but he held himself back.
I had a feeling he prided himself in not caring about others. Or perhaps he simply didn’t care, and pride was his default setting.
I stole a quick glance his way, checking to see if his face still made my pulse accelerate.
It did.
“If it makes you feel any better, I participated in some Go competitions when I was there.”
His lip curved up in a snarl. “Why would it make me feel better?”
“When I annihilate you.”
“Now who’s being cocksure?”
“Please, Zach. There’s only one dick in this room, and I think we both know that it’s you.”
Yup. That just left my mouth.
Vera was right.
Maybe I was impossible to civilize.
Zach moved another stone. He’d cornered me, both literally and figuratively. He was a fantastic player. Calm, pragmatic, steadfast.
It didn’t surprise me. Just annoyed me. I’d grown used to having an edge analytically. Dad always warned that the price of stupidity is always paid.
Maybe that was how Zachary Sun had built his wealth from Forbes-worthy inheritance to the nominal GDP of Luxembourg.
He possessed no weakness to exploit. Had no stupidity to pay for.
I twirled a stone in my palm as I waited for his move, ignoring stone etiquette, knowing it would bother him. “Shouldn’t you go backto your guests?”
“No,” he said decisively. “They’ll have more fun without me.”
He maneuvered a stone, leaning closer to me to do so. I did not interest him in the slightest. One could argue that I was practically half-naked, on a platter before him, completely at his mercy.
He didn’t care.
Those poor girls downstairs didn’t stand a chance.
Zachary Sun didn’t do love, nor passion. Humans did not thrill him. Numbers and mind games did.
I cleared my throat. “You have a nice house.”
I needed to fill in the silence somehow. To keep him from asking questions about me.
