THE ALPHA'S DEADLY ADDICTION

Chapter 8: Pawns and queens

Jace’s POV:

Reid made himself comfortable on my couch like he always did—sprawling across the leather with his legs kicked up on the armrest, completely at home in my space.

I'd never actually invited him over. He just... showed up.

It had been like this since freshman year. Reid would appear at my door with that easy grin and some excuse—forgot his playbook, needed notes from class, wanted to "hang out"—and somehow end up staying for hours. At first, it had been annoying. Then it became routine. Now it was just... Reid.

Like a stray dog you saw every morning on your way to work. Not quite yours, but familiar enough that you'd notice if it disappeared.

"Dude, your place is sick," Reid said for probably the hundredth time, his brown eyes scanning the penthouse appreciatively. "I swear it gets nicer every time I'm here."

"It's the same as it was last week." I set up the chessboard on the coffee table, arranging the pieces with practiced precision.

"Still." He sat up, leaning forward to watch me. "Must be nice, having all this. The view, the space, the—" He stopped mid-sentence, his attention snagging on something. "Holy s**t, is that a Patek Philippe?"

I glanced at where he was pointing—my wristwatch, the one I'd taken off earlier and left on the side table.

"Yeah," I said, moving a white pawn forward two spaces.

Reid let out a low whistle. "How much did that cost? Like, fifty grand?"

"Sixty-three, actually." I studied the board, considering my opening strategy.

"Jesus." He reached for it, turning it over in his hands with the kind of reverence usually reserved for holy relics. "You think I could borrow this? Just for the weekend. There's this party at Kappa Sig and—"

"Sure," I said absently, moving my knight.

Reid's grin widened. "Seriously? Man, you're the best."

I made a noncommittal sound, already focused on the game. This was... what, the fifth watch he'd asked to borrow? Maybe sixth? I'd lost count. He never returned them, of course. Probably pawned them or wore them around campus like they were his, basking in the attention.

I didn't really care.

Money meant nothing when you had as much of it as I did. And if Reid wanted to play dress-up with my things, let him. It kept him happy, kept him loyal, kept him useful.

"So," Reid said, pocketing the watch and settling back against the couch, "did you hear about Dmitri?"

"Which one?" I moved my bishop.

"From the team. Third line center." Reid stretched his arms behind his head. "Apparently he's sleeping with Coach's daughter. Can you imagine? Coach is gonna murder him when he finds out."

"Mmm."

"Oh, and Jensen got suspended for Academic dishonesty. Again." Reid laughed. "I swear that guy's gonna flunk out before playoffs."

I half-listened as Reid rattled off the latest campus gossip—who was sleeping with who, who got caught cheating, who'd gotten wasted at which party. He always knew everything about everyone, like he had a network of spies feeding him information.

It was one of the things that made him useful.

"—and apparently Professor Chen is having an affair with one of the TAs, but that's old news at this point—" Reid paused, and I felt his attention sharpen. "Oh, but the really juicy one? People are talking about you."

That got my attention.

I looked up from the board. "About me?"

"Yeah." Reid leaned forward, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "You know that anonymous website? Campus Whispers or whatever they're calling it this week? The one where people post all the really nasty gossip?"

I knew it. Everyone did. It was where reputations went to die—cheating scandals, hookup confessions, leaked nudes. The kind of place that thrived on schadenfreude and ruined lives.

"What about it?"

"There's a post about you. From last night. Somebody confirmed it in the comments." Reid's eyes gleamed with curiosity. "Someone saw you picking up a girl in the Scarlet District."

Everything in me went still.

"The Scarlet District," I repeated carefully.

"I know, right? Wild." Reid was watching me closely now, probably expecting me to laugh it off or deny it. "I told everyone it was bullshit when they asked me. I mean, you? In that part of town?" He laughed, but it sounded forced. "That's not your scene, man."

I studied him for a moment, weighing my options.

I could deny it. Call it a case of mistaken identity. Let the rumor fizzle out on its own.

But rumors like this didn't fizzle. They festered. People would keep digging, keep asking questions, keep trying to figure out the truth.

Better to control the narrative from the start. Give them just enough truth to satisfy their curiosity while steering them away from what really mattered.

People stopped digging when you admitted things on your own terms. There was nothing exciting about a mystery that had already been solved.

And who better to spread the controlled version than Reid—the team's gossip hub?

"It's true," I said, meeting his gaze steadily.

Reid's eyes nearly popped out of his head. "Bro, what?!"

"I was in the Scarlet District. Someone saw my car. That part's accurate."

"Holy shit." Reid looked like Christmas had come early. "Seriously? You actually—"

"Do you have the picture?" I cut him off. "From the website?"

"Yeah, yeah, hold on." Reid fumbled for his phone, suddenly animated, practically vibrating with excitement. He tapped at the screen frantically. "Okay, here. This is what they posted."

He turned the phone toward me.

The image was grainy, taken from a distance in the rain. But it was unmistakably my car—the license plate partially visible, the distinctive black paint gleaming under the streetlights. The timestamp showed last week, late at night.

The photo captured the moment I'd leaned over to say goodbye to Angel through the passenger window. From this angle, it looked like I was picking someone up rather than dropping them off. Angel herself was barely visible—just a silhouette, her usually big curly brown hair was slicked down by the rain and plastered to her face, shielding most of her face from view.

Thank God for small mercies.

She was unrecognizable. No one looking at this would be able to identify her.

I studied the photo, memorizing every detail, calculating.

"So?" Reid pressed, leaning in so close I could smell his cologne. "Who was she? Was she good enough to get beat up for?" He gestured at my healing bruised cheekbone, his grin widening. "Because the comments section is going crazy. Half the school thinks you were picking up a p********e. The other half thinks you're secretly dating someone from the wrong side of the tracks." He paused dramatically. "There's even a rumor she goes to our school."

My jaw tightened at the word "p********e," but I kept my expression neutral.

My mind raced.

The rumor was wrong—I hadn't picked up anyone from the Scarlet District. I'd dropped off Angel. But the core of it was true enough: me, a girl, the Scarlet District. An interaction.

I'd expected my family to find out. Had wanted it, even. And it worked out in my favour that it was Creed, the most easy going of my brothers that got the warning call. I needed my family to know if my plan to get Angel free from the Konstantins was going to work. I'd been slowly laying the groundwork, soft-launching my interest in her so it wouldn't come as a complete shock when I made my move.

But the school finding out? This early?

That was... problematic.

Not for me. My reputation could survive being seen in the Scarlet District. If anything, it might even enhance my image—the bad boy heir slumming it in dangerous territory. My money, my status, my position in the family—none of that would be affected.

But Angel…

If people started digging. If they connected the dots. If they found out she wasn't just in the Scarlet District but that she worked there, that she danced there, that she was owned there—

My heart rate kicked up, anxiety threading through my chest like cold water.

No. That couldn't happen. Not yet. Not before I'd figured out how to protect her from the fallout.

"Jace?" Reid's voice cut through my spiral. "You good? You look weird."

"I'm fine." I forced myself to relax, to breathe normally. The anxiety was just an annoyance. A variable I hadn't accounted for. Nothing I couldn't handle.

I turned my attention back to the chessboard, using the familiar patterns to ground myself.

The pieces were scattered across the board in various stages of play. But something about the positioning caught my eye.

The white pieces—my pieces—weren't converging on the black king the way they should be in a traditional game. Instead, they were all closing in on one target.

The black queen.

Every move I'd made, every piece I'd positioned, was about protecting something. Claiming something. Controlling something.

Not winning the game.

Winning her.

I reached for one of the black pawns and studied it for a moment. Small. Insignificant. Easy to overlook.

But in the right position, at the right time, a pawn could change everything.

I placed it on the board, directly in the path of one of my white knights. A sacrifice. A shield between the threat and the queen.

"What are you doing?" Reid asked, frowning at the board. "That's a terrible move. You just gave up your pawn for nothing."

"Not for nothing," I murmured, more to myself than to him.

A pawn.

That's what I needed.

Someone expendable. Someone who could take the fall if this all blew up. Someone with an already stained reputation. Who could absorb the scandal, leaving Angel untouched.

Someone the school could focus on while I worked behind the scenes to secure her freedom.

The plan crystallized in my mind with perfect clarity.

I just needed to find the right piece to sacrifice.

"Earth to Jace." Reid waved a hand in front of my face. "Seriously, man, are you okay? You've been staring at that chess piece for like five minutes."

I set the pawn down and leaned back, a slow smile spreading across my face.

"I'm perfect," I said. "Actually, I think I just figured something out."

Reid raised an eyebrow. "Care to share with the class?"

"Not yet." I stood up, stretching. "But when I do, it's going to be brilliant."

Reid laughed, clearly thinking I was joking. "Alright, keep your secrets. I should probably head out anyway." He stood, patting his pocket where my watch now rested. "Thanks for this, by the way. I'll get it back to you soon."

"Sure you will," I said, walking him to the door.

He flashed me that easy grin—the one that was supposed to make him look friendly and harmless—and clapped me on the shoulder. "See you at practice tomorrow?"

"Yeah. See you."

I closed the door behind him and stood there for a moment, my mind already miles ahead.

The rumor was out. People were talking. The clock was ticking.

But I'd known this was coming. Had prepared for it.

All I needed now was the right pawn to put in play.

Someone close enough to be believable. Someone expendable enough that I wouldn't care about the consequences.

Someone who would never see it coming.

I walked back to the coffee table and looked down at the chessboard, at the black queen surrounded by white pieces, protected by a single pawn.

In chess, sometimes you had to sacrifice a piece to protect your queen.

I just had to decide which piece to throw to the wolves.

.