"And do you think a slave can beat the master in a game of chess?" Marco asked, his breath hitching as Rafael pressed the gun tighter against his neck.
"Why don't you ask yourself?" Rafael replied, smirking as he held Marco's gaze.
"Well… I'll let you in on a little secret…." Marco's voice trailed off as his hand suddenly seized Rafael's wrist, twisting it just enough to make the gun slip from his grasp. It dropped onto the bed, and Marco swiftly picked it up.
From his pocket, Marco produced a pack of bullets. He loaded the gun, cocked it, and then pulled the trigger, sending a shot into the air.
Marco turned back to Rafael, who was visibly shaken by the gunshot. Staring deep into Rafael's eyes, Marco said, "The master always has the final move."
In a swift motion, Rafael felt his back hit the soft mattress, Marco's body pinning him down.
