Page 5 of Queen’s Gambit

“I’m not scared,” I said, which was a lie, but Papa didn’t call me out. His lip twitched up as the tinted windows closed, and a second later, the gates opened.

The driveway was long and winding. I leaned forward on the seat, and my jaw dropped as the house came into view. It was the biggest home I’d ever seen—much more like a palace. Little white lights decorated trees, while stone statues glittered with the blanket of snow that coated everything. Windows stretched as far as I could see, and they all glowed brightly.

“One day, son, you will be rich enough to afford a place like this. I see ambition in your eyes, and you’re far smarter than I was at your age. You can have whatever you want as long as you’re willing to work and sacrifice for it,” Papa said.

“Really?” I puffed out my chest. “I want to be a Don of Dons,” I declared.

He nodded, a smile on his face.

“Then aim to be the most powerful Don of Dons who has ever lived, and I promise that you’ll get there.”

I sucked in a deep breath and rolled my shoulders as I pictured living in a home like this and being in control of an area larger than what Papa had now.

The car pulled up in front of steps that led to large black and gold doors with a fancy M on each of them. Our driver came around to let us out.

“Does a king live here,” I asked quietly, staring at the castle before me. Papa chuckled.

“No, Edmundo. This is Mr. Mikhailov’s home,” Papa said. “Now remember, you are representing the Genovese name as much as I am. You behave, listen, and learn. Above all else, do not disrespect Mr. Mikhailov.”

“Yes, Papa.”

We climbed the stairs to the front doors, and I eyed the guards who stood on either side like statues. They swung open before we reached the top and we stepped into what felt like a totally different world. Everything around us looked expensive, from the furniture to the lights.

“Right this way, sir,” the man who had opened the door said. It was the first time I’d heard a Russian accent since we landed, and it was strange to my ears, like he was mad at us.

We walked down a hallway to an open door revealing a man sitting at his desk in the middle of the room.

“Sir, the last of your guests has arrived,” the servant said before he bowed and left.

“Alessandro, it is good to see you.” The man stood and approached us, smiling. My papa shook his hand and for all the bad things I’d heard him say, they greeted one another like best friends.

“Vadin, the feeling is mutual. Although, I would’ve preferred to have this meeting in the summer.”

Vadin laughed. “The cold toughens you.” He clenched his hand into a fist.

“I’m sure it does. But doesn’t a stiff drink by the pool sound better for a meeting? Next time you come my way. You’ll never want to leave paradise.”

“Deal. And who is this?” Vadin looked down at me.

Papa nudged my back, and I stepped forward, extending my hand.

“Mr. Mikhailov, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. My name is Edmundo,” I said, proud that I hadn’t stumbled over the practiced words.

Vadin’s eyebrow rose as we shook. “It is good to meet you, Edmundo.”

Running footsteps echoed down the hallway before someone dashed into the room behind us. Turning, I stared wide-eyed at a girl around my age who was busy smoothing her blonde hair away from her face. She curtsied, holding her blue dress out to the side.

“Father, dinner is served,” she said and twirled to run off.

“Yulianna.” She stopped and looked over her shoulder. “Do not be rude. Introduce yourself to our company.”

My heart ran full speed in my chest as she floated toward us as if she was on a cloud. Her blue eyes were as bright as a clear summer day.

“My apologies. I’m Yulianna,” she said, holding out her gloved hand to my papa. I had no idea why she was wearing the little white gloves when it was warm in here, but I watched as Papa introduced himself.

She turned those crystal blue eyes on me and pressed her lips together while looking me up and down. Was there something on my clothes?

“I’m Edmundo,” I said to stop her inspection and held out my hand.