The world runs on chess. And chess reflects the world.
Another win flashed on Angelo's screen.
Seventeen. Chess prodigy. Half a million dollars from a Zurich tournament last month. Tonight — six and a half out of seven. Two thousand dollars prize.
Not bad.
Tea steamed beside a plate of macarons.
"Still sweeter than winning," he muttered.
"Angelo? I'm home!"
"Yeah, Mom. One second."
He shut down the computer and stepped into the hallway.
Maria was taking off her coat. She smiled when she saw him.
He hugged her quietly.
"How was your day?"
"Tournament. I won."
"Score?"
"Six and a half."
She nodded, pleased. "That's my boy."
"I stopped by a new patisserie," she said. "Brought you chocolate cake."
She handed him the box. Elegant. "Sweet Paradise." An angel on the lid.
He gave a faint smile.
He put the kettle on.
For now, everything was calm.