My Overpowered System

The relentless clicking shutters and blinding flashes of cameras made Elena's migraine worse. Even the dull ache in her ankle, a reminder of the six-inch heels she wore, wasn't enough to stop her from smiling. She had to. The world was watching, and beside her stood her ex-husband, Jason Dalton.

His arm slipped around her waist as they adjusted their pose. The feel of his fingers against her bare back sent goosebumps crawling over her skin. If only her stylist had agreed to the simpler dress she wanted. Then she wouldn't be standing here, half-exposed, pretending to enjoy the touch of the man she once loved.

"Mrs. Dalton, look this way!" someone shouted from the crowd of photographers.

Elena's smile widened, her cheeks ached.

"Are you cold?" Jason asked, his breath grazing her shoulder.

"I'm fine," she replied, voice barely above a whisper, smile still playing on her lips.

Jason turned a deaf ear to her response. He slipped off his suit jacket and draped it over her shoulders. Elena's smile fell, her nostrils flared as she struggled to keep her composure. 

To outsiders the gesture might seem like a sweet display of love, but to her, it was just Jason overstepping her boundaries to put on an act for the cameras.

"Aww, they're such a lovely couple!" one of the photographers gushed.

The shutters of cameras got louder. None of them wanted to miss the moment.

"Smile," Jason whispered. "They're watching."

Elena's lips trembled as she forced the smile back in place. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, pretending all was fine.

Jason offered his arm. "Let's go."

He led her towards the grand hall ahead, away from the red carpet and noisy paparazzi. Soft classical music filled the air as they ascended the marble stairs leading to the wide double doors.

Inside, chandeliers glimmered across the cream-painted ceiling, and an orchestra played while guests in elegant clothes moved between tables and laughter.

A waiter approached, carrying a tray of wine. "Welcome," he greeted, offering them drinks.

"I'll pass," Elena declined with a polite smile.

Jason, without hesitation, took a glass of red wine and emptied it in one go.

"Where's Mr. Black?" he asked, setting the glass back down.

Mr. Black? Elena frowned. Was that the name of the client they were meeting?

"This way, please," the waiter replied. "He's been expecting you."

The glamour of the hall faded behind them as the waiter led them through a corridor to a door marked VIP, guarded by a stern-looking man in a black suit.

"They're the boss's guests," the waiter informed him.

The guard gave a brief nod and unlocked the door.

The thick smell of cigarettes hit Elena as soon as they stepped in. Her nose wrinkled, eyes scanning the poorly lit room. Men gathered around casino tables, gambling, drinking, shouting over one another.

She took a quick glance at Jason, who followed the waiter closely, seemingly unfazed. Her pulse quickened. Something felt wrong.

When they got to a dead end, the waiter gave them a strange smile, set the tray he carried on a table, and began knocking rhythmically on a door. Then he opened it, revealing a dimly lit hallway. "You can go in now."

Elena's brows arched. "Go in there?" She pointed at the hallway. "Is it safe-"

Jason grabbed her wrist, cutting her mid-sentence.

"Thanks for your help," he told the waiter. "My wife and I will take it from here."

When the waiter left, Elena yanked her hand free. A faint red mark circled her wrist.

"I thought we agreed on limited physical contact tonight," she snapped.

Jason exhaled sharply. "Sorry, Elena. You were about to ruin everything."

"Ruin what exactly? You expect me to keep entering strange rooms with you, without asking questions? Where the hell are you taking me?"

Jason ran a hand through his hair, his voice low. "I'll explain later. I really need this client's investment. Help me this once, and I promise, you'll never have to do this again."

Elena rolled her eyes. "Fine. Just don't touch me again unless it's absolutely necessary. Being here with you is tiring enough."

"Agreed. Let's go."

"Hold on," she stopped him mid-step.

He turned, impatience flashing across his face "What now, Elena? We're already late."

"The divorce," she declared firmly. "We're announcing it after this. I'm done pretending."

Jason's jaw clenched. "We can't."

"It's been two months, Jason. How long do you plan to hide the truth? I'm tired of this act. If you don't announce it, I will-and trust me, I won't leave out the reason."

She turned to leave.

"Stop," Jason called after her. His tone softened. "Okay. I'll announce it. Just give me time."

She crossed her arms, facing him again. "How long?"

"Next week," he said quietly. "I promise."

Elena studied him for a moment, then nodded. "Next week," she repeated before walking past him into the hallway.

He followed in silence, and the door closed behind them with a soft click. The lights flickered continuously as they walked down the hallway towards the far end where a huge white door stood.

"Give me a few seconds to calm myself." Jason's shaky voice halted her as she reached for the handle. "You know he's a big client and I need to be level-headed to get him to sign the contract." He chuckled, avoiding eye contact.

Elena shot him an irritated look. "These heels are killing me. Be quick." She said, resting against the wall.

After several quick deep breaths, Jason opened the door.

The bright light from the room hit Elena the moment she stepped in. She lifted her hand, shielding her eyes from the blinding glare.

"Mr. Dalton, did you bring my money?" a deep voice echoed from across the room.

Elena's hand slowly lowered, her gaze traveling around the room, pausing at the figure seated on a sofa in the middle. Beside him stood a hefty-looking man who appeared to be his bodyguard.

A chess board sat on the low table before him, pieces mid-battle. He studied it through a curl of cigarette smoke, then leaned forward to move a black knight. Without pause, he circled to the opposite side of the board, settling into the other player's position as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

His moves were calculated, each piece shifted with quiet precision. It took her a moment to realize what she was watching-he was playing both sides.

Elena detested men who smoked, yet she couldn't look away as he took another slow drag of his cigarette, exhaling a swirl of smoke that curled through the air.

"Mr. Black, I came so we can discuss extending the loan repayment," Jason said nervously, breaking the silence.

"So you came without my money." The man said, unbothered, his attention still on the chess.

"My apologies, Mr. Black. I tried to meet the deadline but the money isn't complete yet."

"What are you talking about? Is he the client?" She whispered to Jason, confused about what was going on.

"Yes. Just don't say anything, okay?" He whispered back.

Elena nodded in response, ignoring unease that tugged at her chest.

The man slowly lifted his head, extinguishing his cigarette in the ashtray beside him. His dark eyes drifted from Jason to her, and she shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. 

"Who's she?" He asked, in a low but commanding voice.

Jason cleared his throat, adjusting his necktie. "My wife."

"Your wife."

"Yes, Mr. Black." Jason answered sharply.

"Elena. Nice to meet you, sir." She introduced herself, pushing back the fear brewing inside her.

He nodded once, resuming his game. He played in silence for a while.

"Why did you bring her here?"

Jason hesitated for a few seconds before he spoke. "Three months. Give me three more months to clear off my debt. She'll stay with you till then."