Chapter 10

THE GAME DEEPENS.

Lyra paced her room, the muffled tick of a clock on the wall the only sound chaperoning her thoughts. The estate was too quiet, its silence pressing in on her like a weight.

Her earlier encounter with Ryker replayed over and over, his words cutting deeper each time she remembered them.

“Let’s see how long you last.”

She gritted her teeth, forcing herself to stop walking. She leaned against the edge of the vanity and met her reflection. Her face looked pale, her expression uneasy.

“You can’t afford to fall apart now,” she thought, gripping the edge of the table until her knuckles whitened.

Her mind raced with possibilities.

Ryker wasn’t just testing her; he was hunting her.

Every word he spoke felt like a trap, every exchange an intentional move to break her piece by piece. But Lyra refused to crumble.

If she had any chance of surviving this, she had to stop being reactive. She needed to find a way to take control—or at least, enough leverage to keep herself safe.

“He’s always in control. But no one stays untouchable forever. There has to be something—something I can use against him.”

Taking a deep breath, she straightened. Ryker may have the advantage now, but she wasn’t defenseless.

Lyra stepped into the study, drawn by the low crackle of the fireplace and the rhythmic sound of chess pieces being moved. Ryker was seated at the table, his attention fixed on the board.

His posture was relaxed, but there was an edge to his presence, a quiet dominance that filled the room.

Without looking up, he spoke. “Couldn’t resist, could you?”

His tone was calm, almost amused, but the underlying challenge was unmistakable.

“I heard the sound,” she replied evenly, stepping further into the room. “I was curious.”

“Curiosity can be dangerous,” he said, finally looking at her. “But since you’re here…” He gestured to the seat across from him.

Lyra hesitated but forced herself to move forward. She sat down, her gaze darting briefly to the board before meeting his eyes.

“I’m not much of a chess player,” she admitted.

Ryker smiled faintly. “Chess isn’t about playing. It’s about understanding. Strategy. Anticipation.” He moved a pawn forward.

“Your turn.”

Lyra glanced at the pieces, trying to recall what little she knew about the game. She pushed a pawn forward, mirroring his move.

“A safe start,” Ryker said, his voice tinged with mock approval. “But safe moves rarely lead to victory.”

Lyra tilted her head, her expression calm. “Sometimes, bold moves backfire.”

Ryker’s eyes gleamed with interest as he advanced one of his knights. “Boldness without foresight is reckless. But hesitation can be just as costly. It all depends on what you’re willing to risk.”

The suspense between them thickened as the game progressed. Each move on the board mirrored their conversation—every word layered with double meanings, every glance a muted challenge.

“So,” Ryker said as he claimed one of her pawns, “tell me, Jane… Do you think you’re a risk-taker or someone who plays it safe?”

Lyra’s fingers paused over a piece. She met his gaze. “Depends on the situation. Some risks are worth taking. Others… not so much.”

Ryker leaned back slightly, studying her. “And how do you decide? Instinct? Or calculation?”

“Both,” she replied, moving her queen forward aggressively. “Sometimes you need to trust your gut.”

Ryker smirked, countering her move with a calculated one of his own. “Trusting your gut is admirable. But it won’t save you from consequences.”

Lyra clenched her jaw, determined not to show any weakness. She advanced another piece, her confidence growing despite the subtle pressure he was applying.

“You enjoy this, don’t you?” she asked, her tone casual.

Ryker raised an eyebrow. “Enjoy what?”

“This,” she gestured toward the board. “Testing people. Seeing how far you can push them.”

He didn’t deny it. Instead, he leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. “And what about you? Do you enjoy being tested?”

Lyra met his gaze, refusing to look away. “Not particularly. But I’m learning.”

Ryker’s lips twitched into a faint smile. “Good. Learning quickly is essential.” He made another move, his rook advancing to trap her king.

“Check.”

Her stomach sank as she saw her mistake. She’d left herself exposed, and Ryker had capitalized on it effortlessly.

“You’re quick,” he said, his voice low. “But not quick enough.”

Lyra swallowed hard, masking her frustration. She moved her remaining pieces defensively, trying to delay the unavoidable.

Ryker leaned closer, his tone soft but firm. “Do you know what the most dangerous piece on the board is?”

She didn’t respond immediately, wary of the trap in his question. Finally, she shook her head.

He tapped a finger on her queen. “The one you underestimate.”

Their eyes locked, and for a moment, the game felt secondary to the tension building between them. Lyra’s pulse quickened, but she refused to back down.

***********************

Later that evening, Ryker sat in his office, the chessboard now a distant memory. In front of him were the files his investigator had sent, each detail a thread in the tangled web of Lyra’s lies.

He leaned back in his chair, the faint light from his desk lamp highlighting the faint smirk on his face.

“Lyra Winson.”

Her real name had been buried deep, but not deep enough.

The report detailed everything—her background, her financial struggles, and the desperate decision that must have led her here.

Ryker’s fingers tapped idly on the desk as he considered the implications. She wasn’t who she claimed to be, but she wasn’t a simple con artist either.

Her actions were messy and unrefined. They reeked of desperation rather than cunning.

“She’s clumsy. But there’s something there… resilience. Fire. It makes her dangerous in a way I didn’t anticipate.”

He recalled their earlier game, her boldness on the chessboard a mirror of her personality. She wasn’t polished or predictable, but that unpredictability captivated him.

“She thinks she’s playing me. But she doesn’t realize I already hold all the cards.”

The sound of footsteps outside his office door broke his thoughts. He knew it was Lyra—her presence was unmistakable. He let the silence stretch, waiting to see if she would knock or retreat.

When neither happened, he called out, his voice carrying just enough authority to make her freeze.

“Eavesdropping again, Jane?”

There was a pause before she responded, her voice tight.

“I wasn’t.”

Ryker chuckled softly. “Of course not. But if you were, I’d say you’ve chosen a dangerous habit.”

He heard her inhale sharply before her footsteps retreated down the hall. As the silence returned, his smirk deepened.

“Let her run for now. It’s only a matter of time before she steps into the trap.”