Chapter 197:

Aurora sat down opposite Brenda. She smoothed her blue velvet dress.

Brenda laughed, sitting down. She spun the board so the white pieces were facing her. “I’ll give you white. You need the advantage. First move is yours.”

Aurora reached out. She spun the board back.

“No need,” Aurora said, her voice calm. “I prefer black.”

She looked Brenda in the eye.

“Black moves second,” Aurora said. “It reacts. It counters. It kills.”

The room formed a tight, suffocating circle around the antique chess table. The air was thick with the scent of expensive perfume and anticipation.

Brenda Jones didn’t wait. She moved her King’s Pawn to e4. Aggressive. Standard. She slammed the piece down with a loud clack.

Aurora mirrored the move. Pawn to e5. She placed the piece silently. No sound. Just a ghost moving across the board.

Vivian ordered champagne for her friends, already celebrating. “Watch this,” she whispered. “Brenda will crush her in twenty moves.”

Brenda played fast. Knight to f3.

Aurora responded instantly. Knight to c6.

“Standard opening,” Brenda sneered. “Did you memorize this from a pamphlet?”

She moved her Bishop to b5. The Ruy Lopez. A classic attack.

Aurora didn’t hesitate. She moved her pawn to a6. The Morphy Defense.

Brenda raised an eyebrow. “You know the names, at least.”

The game accelerated. Click-clack. Click-clack.

Elias moved to stand directly behind Aurora’s chair. He didn’t speak. He didn’t touch her. But his presence was a physical shield. He was a wall of heat and power at her back, blocking the hostility of the crowd.

Ļ∆ťèśţ ¢♄ΔÞţεЯŠ ¡η Ġałиoνєļş.çø₥

Sebastian Kensington watched from the side, confused. “She’s keeping up?” he muttered to Vivian.

“Beginner’s luck,” Vivian assured him, though her smile was tight. “Brenda is just toying with her.”

Ten moves in. The board was cluttered. The tension was rising.

Brenda stopped playing fast. She leaned in, frowning. She had tried to open up the center, but every attack was met with a solid, impenetrable wall. Aurora wasn’t just copying; she was building a structure.

Sweat began to bead on Brenda’s forehead. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. The amateur was supposed to make a mistake by now.

Aurora looked bored. Her expression was sleepy, almost detached. She rested her chin on her hand. She began to tap her index finger on the table.

Tap. Tap-tap-tap. Tap-tap.

It was rhythmic. Annoying.

Brenda glared at her. “Stop doing that.”

Aurora didn’t stop. Tap. Tap-tap.

The psychological pressure mounted. Brenda felt like she was playing against a machine.

.

.

.