8. Game Master
Game Master
Surveillance images of various residents that live in the illustrious estates of Westbrook Blues litter the large round table of the dark room.
Old photographs are intermixed with the latest ones taken just a few weeks ago, showing the updates for the residents.
The kids that used to be young, clueless, and na?ve just a few years ago are now older, sharper, more problematic than ever, but that doesn’t bother the chess players in the room.
“Ivy Irving has now entered the lion’s den,” a low but cold voice speaks in the chilly room.
In the middle of the table is a chess set, the pieces looking evenly matched from a wide angle, but upon closer inspection, it’s obvious that one side is moving rapidly and taking over the pieces of the other side in quick succession.
The game is getting exciting.
An innocent-looking gambit has been thrown in like a curveball.
Who will it trap, is the question.
“Can she even turn the tide?” the older man says with apparent impatience and unconcealed anger. “Hasn’t that girl been an insignificant player this entire time?”
The younger man in the room calmly leans back in the large but uncomfortable chair and watches the older man across from him, regarding him with barely hidden resentment.
“That girl is the only one who has ever and will ever move that ice-capped mountain that has been frozen for a millennium,” he says, his voice deliberately slow.
He’s been playing this game of chess for a long time and he’s just about sick of it.
He wants the game to end at this point, but he knows one thing that the older man is also aware of but pretends not to notice just to fool him.
This final stage is the most crucial.
Everything had been leading up to this.
Will they be able to gain the largest success of their lives or will they be swallowed up?
Of the starting lineup, most pieces have been taken out the game.
The ones that have remained are stubborn, obstinate, and completely unaware that they are in the fight of their lives.
Between the two men in the room, one is playing for the total eradication of the pieces and the other is playing for another unrighteous reason.
He’s not trying to save the pieces, but rather, he intends to use them for his own benefit.
“All we have to do now sit back and watch what happens.”
“Just sit back? Do you take me for a fool?” the older man seethes. “I already know there’s some sort of relationship between that girl and your undefeated rival!”
The younger man scoffs, anger coursing through his veins, but he doesn’t let it show.
In this high-stakes game, it’s crucial for him to keep his composure or else he’ll lose everything.
He’s already lost a lot that he can never recover, no matter what he does, and this right here, is the only chance for him to maybe recover what’s possible while praying to God that the pieces he’s moving will forgive him.
After all, he already knows that he’s bound to hell.
“Undefeated rival?” he repeats, his words laced with venom. “Is that what you think?”
“That’s what I fucking see, don’t try to play me.”
“How dare I?” The younger man grips the upholstering of the armchair and stares unwavering at the older man. “I’m only responding to your misgivings.”
“Misgivings?”
“If you haven’t been paying attention, let me remind you of what I’ve done in recent years as per our agreement,” he says in a clipped tone. “I ensured the Kings, I maintained the Montreals. I brought the McLaren family into the fucking fold. And now, the Eastons will be in my pocket as well.”
The young man’s gaze is sharp, cold, and all-knowing.
“For this game, just sit back and watch.”