Karl Gordon Is Back

Chapter 18 : The Game Of Chess

Karl sat opposite Ruchie, his damp jacket folded over the back of his chair, the heat of the café still clinging to his skin long after the rain had stopped dripping from his hair.

The chessboard rested between them, pieces already arranged, the white side turned toward him. The silence in the cafe was deafening, pushed aside by the pressure in his chest as he lifted his eyes to meet hers.

Ruchie wrapped her fingers around her coffee cup but did not drink. Her gaze stayed on him, as though she were still weighing whether his arrival in that storm had been bravery or desperation.

“You remember the rule,” she said calmly. “You lose, you answer everything I ask. No dodging.”

He inclined his head. “And if I win.”

She leaned back in her chair. “I grant you one favour. One.”

Her assistant stood close to the wall, tablet pressed against her chest, her jaw set as though she were bracing for something unpleasant.

The men in dark suits remained where they had not moved since Karl arrived, watchful, their attention never drifting far from the small table.

Ruchie reached forward and pressed the clock.

“You may start.”

Karl rested his fingertips on the edge of the board for a brief moment, steadying the tremor in his hand, then moved his pawn.

The opening unfolded without ceremony. Neither of them wasted time testing weak lines or chasing advantage too early. Ruchie responded to every move calmly.

Karl shuts his eyes briefly, he needed to relax. He needed to shut out everything and focus on the board beneath his hands and the pattern slowly taking shape.

This was his lifeline here and he wasn't about to mess it up. He was fantastic at chess but he hadn't play in a long time. Nor that Melody or Caden had the mental capacity to engage in a game like that without whining and complaining.

Ruchie studied him over the rim of her cup as she shifted her knight. “You play like your life depends on it. A bit sloppy if you ask me.” she observed lightly.

Karl did not answer. He moved his bishop and watched her eyes flick briefly to the line he had opened.

The game slowed.

Minutes stretched without either of them glancing at the clock. The assistant paced once behind Ruchie, then stopped when Ruchie lifted her hand without turning around.

Karl leaned forward, elbows hovering just above the table, eyes scanning the board. His queen sat dangerously exposed, but the narrow trap beneath it had been planned three moves ago. He could feel the decision pressing against his breathing.

If she saw it, he would not recover.

Ruchie tilted her head, studying the board in silence. Her fingers hovered over her rook.

Karl waited.

She picked the piece he had not prepared for.

A faint tightening pulled at the corner of his mouth as he slid his queen across the board and closed the opening she had just created.

Ruchie’s brows lifted almost immediately.

“Ms Emold…” the assistant started.

Ruchie raised her hand.

Karl’s next move forced her king into a narrow corridor. She adjusted without a word, retreating one square, then another.

Ruchie’s lips curved faintly as she shifted her bishop.

“You are not playing to survive,” she murmured. “You are playing for something specific.”

Karl’s gaze remained fixed on the board. “Yes.”

He drew a slow breath and slid his knight into position.

Ruchie froze.

For the first time since the game had begun, she leaned forward.

The café faded from Karl’s awareness. He watched the line he had built finally lock into place. His pulse moved high in his throat as her eyes traced the sequence backward, checking each square, each escape that no longer existed.

She straightened.

Her king had nowhere left to go.

Ruchie looked at him. Then she tipped her king onto its side.

He won.

The assistant inhaled. “Ms Emold, that was…”

“Enough,” Ruchie said, without looking at her.

Karl remained still, his hands folded loosely in front of him. He had expected a rush of relief. What he felt instead was something else.

Ruchie studied his face for several seconds. "I was hoping to get the full story.” She tuts. “Very well,” she said. “You have your favour.”

Karl reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and drew out the thin folder he had protected from the rain. He placed it gently on the table between them.

“I need your signature on a partnership agreement,” he said evenly. “Between the Gordon Empire and your family’s company.”

The assistant stepped forward at once.

“This is inappropriate,” she snapped. “You arranged a private game to pressure her into a business decision.”

One of the men near the door shifted his stance. Another’s hand moved inside his jacket.

Karl did not turn his head. He kept his eyes on Ruchie.

“I am not asking for ownership,” he continued quietly. “No controlling shares or internal access. Only a commercial partnership. It's limited and transparent.”

The assistant’s voice rose. “You turned this into a spectacle to corner her.”

“Enough!” Ruchie said and the room fell still. She glanced at her assistant, “Between you and father, I have no idea who nags the most.”

She turns back to Karl, “He was smart. You've got to admire that.”

She opened the folder herself.

Karl watched the change in her expression as she read. Her eyes moved down each page. She turned one sheet. Then another.

The assistant hovered, visibly restrained. She glared at Karl more often than necessary but there was clearly no talking Ruchie out of this..

Ruchie set the papers flat and aligned their edges.

“This is not an acquisition,” she said quietly.

“No,” Karl replied.

She looked up at him. “You will not use our name to pressure your competitors.”

“No.”

Her gaze held his, searching. Karl did not look away. For all ots worth, she isn't just some spoilt teenager with daddy's money. She knows what she's doing.

Ruchie closed the folder. She reached for the pen clipped neatly to the cover.

The assistant lifted her hand to her mouth. “Ms Emold, please…”

Ruchie signed and set the pen down.

The men by the wall eased in a way that was almost invisible, shoulders lowering, attention loosening.

Karl released the breath he had been holding without realising it. His fingers curled once against his palm beneath the table.

He did it.

Fucking hell, he did it!

Ruchie pushed the folder back toward him. “You play an honest game,” she said quietly. “That is rare.”

He gathered the papers carefully. “Thank you.”

Her gaze lingered on him. “You still owe me a story one day.”

Karl chuckled, “I won fair and square.”

Ruchie finally smiled for the first time since their game started. “You’re way too serious for my liking.” She leans Over the table. “But seriously, avoid that witch cuddling with that guy. They will do you no good, I tell you.”

Karl smiled and nodded. “Of course.”

Ruchie’s lips curved faintly. “Go,” she said. “Before my assistant finds another reason to argue.”

The assistant looked away, her jaw tight.

Karl stood, nodded once, and turned toward the door, the signed agreement secure against his chest.

Fuck.

He just got an impossible contract signed.

“Fuck yeah!” He yelled at the top of his voice.

Gordon, your protege is back!