The following morning in Valemir arrived with a deceptive calm. Birds chirped softly outside Elsa's penthouse windows, and golden sunlight poured over the silk curtains like warm honey. But even that peace couldn't drown the heaviness in the air.
Elsa sat cross-legged on the couch, wrapped in her robe, a sleek digital tablet on her lap. Chess had already left an hour earlier, but not before leaving behind an orchid and a handwritten note: "The storm always respects the flower that doesn't bend." —C.
She smiled faintly, but her focus snapped back to the screen. New intelligence had arrived from her internal Jefferson Global cyber team. Not only had Kip resigned, but he'd already begun reassembling his influence—pulling strings, contacting dormant investors, even attempting to poach key Jefferson Global staff.
The man wasn't licking his wounds. He was planning his revenge.
Her fingers flew across the tablet as she dictated commands, shifting resources, blacklisting accounts, and personally authorizing legal blocks. Kip wouldn't just walk away from this. Not if she could help it.
But deeper than that—something else stirred within her. Ever since she left Kavaria with traces of the mysterious seal calling to her soul, Elsa had felt... different. More alert. More alive. As if the very threads of the world whispered truths only she could now hear.
Suddenly, the front door opened.
"Do you ever knock at your own apartment?" she asked, without looking up.
Chess strode in, dressed in black slacks and a light ash-gray shirt that clung perfectly to his form. He tossed his coat over a chair and walked toward her with a smirk.
"I was told I could stay as long as I brought breakfast."
"You brought breakfast?" she asked, one eyebrow raised.
"I brought me," he said. "That's better."
Elsa rolled her eyes, but the smirk tugging at her lips betrayed her amusement. "Arrogance before coffee. Bold."
He plopped beside her and handed her a takeout container from a local bakery. The smell of warm pastries filled the air.
"Okay, you're forgiven," she said, peeling it open.
Chess leaned back, watching her with quiet satisfaction. The woman he saw now wasn't the same one from weeks ago. Elsa had evolved into something sharper. Something resilient. And it terrified him how much he was starting to care.
"I've got eyes on Kip," Chess said after a moment, his voice low. "He's retreated to an estate in the upper North Rise. He's setting up a new venture called Mandari Futures. Looks like a private equity shell."
"Of course he is," Elsa muttered, wiping crumbs off her lip. "That man would turn a house fire into an investment pitch."
Chess chuckled, then turned serious. "I'll handle the back end—cripple his funding, monitor his movements."
Elsa looked up. "No. I'm handling this one."
"You sure?"
She set her tablet aside and leaned toward him, her voice suddenly full of fire. "I let him get too close. He used my grandfather's trust, twisted our legacy, and nearly cost Jefferson Global everything. This isn't about revenge. It's about closure."
Chess nodded slowly, respecting her resolve.
"But..." she added, softer now, "if I fall, I want to know you'll be behind me."
Chess reached over and gently brushed a strand of hair from her face. "You won't fall, Elsa. But if you do... I'll catch you before you hit the ground."
The tension between them was warm, intimate, and unspoken. They didn't need grand declarations—not yet. But the bond was there. Strong. Solid. Blooming like a quiet fire.
Later That Day – Mandari Futures, North Rise
Kip Mandari sat behind a sleek glass desk, the floor-to-ceiling windows behind him casting a golden hue across the obsidian-tinted office. His new venture was still under wraps, but the architecture screamed wealth and ambition.
A junior associate entered, clearly nervous.
"Sir, there's been a freeze on three of our anticipated accounts. All connected to our South Haven partnerships."
Kip's jaw clenched. "Jefferson?"
The associate nodded.
Kip stood, adjusting his cufflinks with barely disguised fury. "She's learned well... but not well enough."
He crossed the room, opening a concealed drawer. Inside lay a velvet box.
He opened it slowly.
Inside was a pendant—strange, ancient, pulsing faintly with a soft crimson glow.
"She has no idea what she's waking up," he whispered to himself. "But when the final key turns... not even Chess Golding will save her."
Back at Elaris Luxe Headquarters
Elsa moved through her office like a general in war. Orders flew. Teams coordinated. A legal offensive had been launched—frozen accounts, regulatory investigations, digital surveillance.
Then a message pinged onto her private channel:
FROM: UNKNOWN"The seal calls. But shadows gather behind the flame. Beware the blood moon."
Elsa stared at the message, her fingers tightening around her pen.
She had no idea who sent it.
But something deep inside her—a flicker of the seal—responded. With heat. With warning.
Later That Night – Rooftop Meditation Room, Chess's Hidden Estate
Chess knelt alone beneath the starlit sky. A silent incantation hung on his lips, his breath slow and steady.
Then, without warning, a gust of energy surged from his chest.
He gasped.
The second seal… was resonating.
Not from him.
From her.