~ Niamh ~
"You okay, Niamh?"
Cristiano's voice broke through the fog in my head. I snapped out of my dark thoughts to find him watching me with a slight frown, his head tilted curiously.
I forced a quick, fake smile and nodded, the movement feeling heavy.
"I'm fine," I lied, the word tasting like ash.
"Good," he said, his grin returning—that effortless, heart-stopping smile that made it easy to see why women would throw themselves into a fire just to have a taste of him. "Loosen up tonight, eh? Enjoy yourself. You're safe here, Niamh. Don't worry about Friday; things are going to work out exactly as planned."
The way he said it, with such calm certainty, made a knot of bile rise in my throat. Tears stung the backs of my eyes, and I had to blink rapidly to keep them from falling.
I wanted to be angry with him. I wanted to scream at him for turning from the Queen in my game to the player in charge of the whole board.
