A New Game of Chess

♟twenty-two♟

I was finally ready after spending 20 minutes trying to figure out how to put on the dress Ezra gave me and another hour doing a full face makeup routine.

My makeup look was simple. A thin layer of foundation, concealer here and there. I lightly filled in and shaped my eyebrows since they were already full, and threw on a cinnamon brown lip liner. In contrast to all the warm colors on my face, I did a dramatic black smokey cat eye so that the first thing someone noticed when they looked at me was my eyes. I wanted to make these plain brown eyes more interesting.

Once I was done with my makeup, I laced up my heels and carefully made my way to my bedroom door, struggling to get used to the feeling of walking in 6-inch heels again. I suddenly stopped, realizing that I hadn't opened the small box Ezra gave me. It sat on my bed staring at me and for some reason I had been avoiding opening it. Something about it gave me a weird gut feeling that I couldn't pinpoint whether it was a good or bad gut feeling, but it definitely made my stomach feel weird.

I grabbed the box and cautiously lifted the lid. It was a gold necklace. A very dainty one with a small black crystal. I held it up to the light to really see it since the chain was so thin.

So I was anxious over a necklace?

The necklace was simple and beautiful, and the crystal was the deepest shade of black I had ever seen. But I was never really a fan of dainty necklaces because they broke so easily.

I clamped the necklace around my neck and as I put my arms down, my finger hooked onto the necklace, tugging it in the opposite direction. I expected the necklace to break in all honesty, but it stayed perfectly in shape. At that moment I realized that the reason why the dainty necklaces I owned broke so easily, was because the material was cheap...well damn. This shit was gold, like real gold. Of course, it was real gold, I don't know why I expected anything less from a rich white man.

I carefully made my way down the stairs trying not to slip and die. I pray that I don't embarrass myself tonight with these stupid ass heels.

Once I reached the bottom, I saw Roman talking to that one super nice driver that waited for me in the car as I slept.

Both pairs of eyes turned to me.

"Wow, you're earlier than I expected." Roman checked his watch which read 7:42. "And you look stunning," he complimented.

"Why thank you, Roman." I smiled.

"Good evening, Ms. Jones," the driver said in his thick Italian accent. The wrinkles around his eyes and his mostly grey hair revealed that he was most likely in his late 60s or early 70s. He always had a warm smile on his face that would make you feel at ease.

"Good evening, Mr..."

"Just Rafaele's fine. No need for formalities." he shook his head.

"Okay then you can just call me Adriana, I feel like a teacher when you call me Ms. Jones," I chuckled and he smiled.

"Unfortunately, I cannot uphold your wish. I must call you Ms. Jones on Mr. Mariano's order." I sighed and closed my eyes. I don't know why I didn't see that coming.

I was pulled away from my thoughts when I heard Rafaele say, "Good evening, Mr. Mariano."

"Good evening, Rafaele." Godmothafuckingdamn. I watched as Ezra's fine self approached us. Ezra always looked good in what he normally wore. Black suits and whatnot. But this outfit, this one really changed his usual vibe. He wore a silk burgundy shirt which was only buttoned up halfway. He wore a simple gold chain and a gold watch that made him look more appealing to the eye. Black pants and black Prada dress shoes, which I definitely wasn't used to since his shoes were always matte. And his hair was gelled back with a couple of strands hanging out in front of his forehead, giving him that wet look. He actually looked relaxed compared to how tense he usually looked.