The rain came down over Veloria City like a quiet curse—gentle, steady, and soaking everything it touched in silver sorrow.
Inside the Jefferson Global HQ, Elsa stood alone in her private elevator as it hummed upward toward the executive floor. Her reflection in the mirror-like doors looked tired. Too tired for 24. Too weary for someone who just got married.
The wedding had solved nothing.
If anything, it put her in more crosshairs.
As the doors opened, the scent of fresh orchids greeted her—her assistant's way of brightening the mood. It didn't work. She stepped into her office and found Chess already there, barefoot again, legs stretched on her couch like it belonged to him.
"Don't you have a home?" she asked, setting her bag down.
He didn't open his eyes. "You're my home now."
"You're not funny."
"I wasn't trying to be."
Elsa sat behind her desk and flipped open her tablet. "Elliot's team delayed the Sestova report again. I smell sabotage."
"I smell fear," Chess replied, finally sitting upright. "He knows he can't beat you clean. So now he'll try dirty."
Elsa studied him for a long moment. "How do you know all this?"
He shrugged. "You'd be surprised what you learn when people think you're a nobody."
Before she could reply, her office line buzzed. Her assistant's voice came through, nervous. "Ma'am… Clarissa Jefferson and the board want an emergency review. Now."
Elsa's eyes narrowed.
Chess stood and straightened his sleeves. "Time to meet the wolves?"
"No," Elsa said. "Time to show them I don't bleed."
The boardroom was full when Elsa entered—Clarissa at the head this time, not Wallace. He was notably absent.
So was his vote.
Clarissa gestured to a chair. "Take a seat, darling."
Elsa didn't. "What's this about?"
Elliot stood. "Concerns, really. Your marriage. Sudden decisions. Erratic meetings. You're not operating with the board's consent."
"I'm the acting CEO," Elsa reminded them.
Clarissa smiled. "Acting, yes. But not sovereign."
"We've decided," Elliot added. "Effective immediately, your authority will be subject to board override."
Elsa didn't flinch. "You're staging a soft coup."
"No, sweetheart," Clarissa said, feigning kindness. "We're saving you… from yourself."
At that moment, the doors swung open.
Chess entered. In a suit.
A real one this time.
Sharp. Black on black. Dragon brooch glinting at his collar. He didn't walk—he arrived. Like a calm disaster waiting to happen.
Elliot rolled his eyes. "Is this a fashion show?"
Chess didn't answer. He placed a folder on the table.
"Ten signed accounts. Offshore. All traced back to ghost LLCs. All linked to Elliot Jefferson."
The room went still.
Elsa blinked. "What?"
Chess looked at Elliot. "Funny thing about loyalty. It's loud when it's broken."
Clarissa's face paled as she turned to Elliot. "Is this true?"
Elliot stammered. "He's bluffing—those aren't even—"
But Elsa was already scrolling through the evidence. Her jaw clenched.
"You were bleeding the hedge fund," she whispered.
Clarissa turned sharp. "Do you know what you've done?"
Chess smiled faintly. "Level one. Checkmate."
Elsa looked at him, stunned. "How did you even get these?"
"I asked nicely," Chess replied. "Then I broke a few firewalls when they didn't answer."
That night, back at the Jefferson estate, Elsa stood in the garden as the rain finally stopped.
Chess joined her, umbrella in one hand.
"You saved me," she said softly. "I didn't ask for it."
"You didn't have to," he replied. "You're my wife."
Elsa looked at him. Really looked.
Maybe for the first time.
"I don't know who you are," she said.
"You will."
Far across the city, the man with the scar under his eye sipped wine while watching a live feed of the boardroom drama.
"Interesting…" he murmured. "He's finally started playing."
Behind him, a masked figure knelt. "Orders?"
"Wait," the man said. "Let him dig deeper. When the dragon flies too close to the sun… we'll burn him."