Paul had created an entire itinerary for Positano—dinner at a glamorous cliffside restaurant, drinks at a hotel bar he loved, and karaoke until last call—and had gifted her a dress for the occasion. It was all shades of blue and green, like a living watercolor that skimmed her body in perfect waves. The neckline plunged much deeper than she was used to, and mostly served as a silken outline for the teardrop shape of her bare breasts. Between them, she wore a few gold necklaces to match the cuff on her left wrist.

She felt confident, beautiful, and ready to turn her victory with Danial into a permanent position of power.

“Speaking of which,” she added, “I should probably start heading out.”

“Already? I still have fifteen minutes left on my break!”

“I know, but I don’t want to be rude.”

“Okay, baby. Well, you look beautiful.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

“Text us when you get home safe.”

“Of course.”

With a last fluff of her curls, Alex downed her glass of water in a single sip and walked out of the bathroom. She grabbed her clutch from the nightstand and spritzed herself with her favorite perfume as she headed to the salon.

“Look at you!” Dev called out from an armchair, looking up from an intricately carved wooden chess board.

She waved nervously, offering a somewhat sarcastic little shimmy in response. From his seat on the other side of the board, Danial glanced in her direction but didn’t move. His expression narrowed into a fine point as he observed her, the sharp angle of his jaw clenching just slightly before he returned his gaze to the board. She almost smiled at the familiar look of concentration on his face—for Danial, even a casual game to kill time was a serious affair. Alex approached them, standing over the board to observe the gameplay in the respectful silence that chess demands. Danial was winning, but he was playing more sloppily than usual, having already traded his bishop pair for Dev’s knights.

Dev checked his watch, then glanced over at the cabins where his wife was still getting ready. “Maybe we should call it, man,” he said, looking over at Danial. “I think we’re being rude.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Danial replied, disassembling the board without looking up. “I shouldn’t have started a game, sorry.”

Alex swallowed the rising swell of nostalgia in her throat. Danial had first taught her to play, and she became so consumed with the game—and the connection it fostered between them—that it dominated her schedule for the entirety of their junior year. The chess app they finally embraced was a social necessity, a compromise to please their friends who were tired of waiting around for the two of them to finish yet another match.

“Are you excited for tonight?” she asked, clearing her throat of emotion and intentionally facing Dev.