Elsa Jefferson wasn't one to jump at shadows.
But lately, the world felt… off.
She stood in the boardroom of Jefferson Global, staring out the glass wall that overlooked the city of Seradine — a skyline of gold and ambition, kissed by clouds.
Behind her, executives argued over asset movements and offshore leaks. Her voice used to calm them. Now, it barely registered.
"They're second-guessing you," Clarissa said, stepping beside her. "You feel it too, don't you?"
Elsa didn't answer right away.
She had reviewed every file, every report.
She'd given speeches, saved deals, fired corruption.
But somewhere along the line, something had shifted.
Chess.
He had been quiet. Helpful, but withdrawn. Charming in his odd, distant way — always disappearing at the wrong moment and returning with no explanation.
And now… people whispered.
"Your assistant is too close to you."
"He's got no real background, does he?"
"Strange how the boardroom leak happened right after he left."
Clarissa watched her cousin's silence.
"You trust him?"
Elsa looked at her. "I married him."
"That's not the same as trust."
Later that day, Elsa visited the Chronos Building, one of Jefferson Global's subsidiary HQs. She had called for an emergency inspection.
The manager — a slick, sharp-tongued exec named Vin Aldreth — welcomed her with too-wide smiles.
"I assure you, Ms. Jefferson," Vin said, "we've had no leaks. Everything's secure."
"Then why are our offshore vaults missing millions in stealth capital?" she shot back.
Vin blinked.
"That's classified. You shouldn't even know about that channel."
Elsa's eyes narrowed.
"I know everything in this company."
He stiffened.
"…Or maybe someone else does."
That night, Elsa found an anonymous email waiting in her private inbox.
No sender. No signature.
Just a subject line:
"Check Chess's call history."
Her heart skipped.
She didn't want to. But she did.
Just once.
And there it was — a number. Repeating every other night.
An encrypted line traced to a server bank registered under Alectra Holdings — a financial institution owned by The Yurei Group.
Milo Varn's empire.
She sat back in her chair.
No conclusions. Just questions.
But they were sharp enough to cut bone.
Meanwhile, Milo watched her from a silent screen across the city.
Soraya stood nearby.
"She's beginning to wonder."
"She's a Jefferson," Milo said. "They're bred to question everything. That's what makes them easy to break."
"She'll come to you?" Soraya asked.
"No. She'll come to him."
"Chess?"
Milo smirked.
"No. Vin Aldreth. The perfect viper. Cold. Smooth. With just enough fake nobility to make her believe in his honesty. He'll tell her lies… and she'll believe him."
"And if she doesn't?"
"Then we press harder."
He opened a folder labeled Operation Smokeveil.
Inside: media headlines, faked bank transfers, fabricated charges — all linking Chess Golding to international money laundering.
"We don't need to defeat Chess Golding," Milo said calmly. "We just need to make the world fear him."
Back in the Jefferson residence, Elsa walked into the kitchen quietly.
Chess was there — shirt sleeves rolled up, boiling water for tea, humming a low, ancient tune she didn't recognize.
He looked up and smiled faintly.
"You're home early."
"Yeah," she said softly, watching him.
He poured two cups. Handed her one.
But his eyes searched hers.
"Something wrong?"
She hesitated.
Then forced a smile.
"No. Just tired."
He nodded.
But as he turned away, her hand lingered on her phone.
Should she ask him?
Or wait until she had proof?
Behind her, Chess's fingers quietly traced a sigil on the rim of his teacup — protection ward, subtle and ancient.
Because even without seeing the email…
He knew.