The White Queen
1195 Words
The beach was supposed to be their peace.
White sand stretched endlessly beneath a bright blue sky while turquoise waves rolled lazily toward shore. It looked like the kind of paradise Ellie used to dream about before life became a cycle of fear, grief, and survival.
For once, everything felt still.
Grace sat near the shoreline carefully building a sandcastle, her tongue sticking out in concentration as she shaped tiny towers with wet sand. Kai sat beside her, not helping, simply observing everything around him with those quiet, watchful eyes that always seemed older than they should have been.
That was the thing about Kai.
The Swiss school had trained him to notice details most people ignored. Every movement. Every shadow. Every possible danger.
A child shaped by survival instead of innocence.
Leo chased seagulls farther down the beach, laughing whenever they darted away from him. Clara followed nearby wearing a wide-brimmed sunhat and carrying a book she hadn’t opened once in the last hour.
And Ellie?
Ellie sat wrapped in Kael’s arms beneath a large umbrella, her back resting against his chest while his heartbeat pulsed steadily beneath her palm.
For the first time in six months, she allowed herself to breathe.
“Are you happy?” Kael murmured against her ear.
She tilted her head to look at him. Sunlight caught the strands of grey beginning to appear near his temples—new since Thorne. The scar above his eyebrow from the plane crash was still visible, though fading. But the heaviness in his shoulders remained.
Lighter than before.
Never gone.
“I’m learning how,” she admitted softly.
Kael kissed her temple.
“That’s enough.”
It should have been enough.
But peace never lasted long for people like them.
Everything changed because of a drawing.
Leo had been unusually quiet that morning. Normally he filled pages with sketches—waves, birds, Grace’s hair blowing in the wind, Kael standing protectively near the water.
Drawing had become his language after everything Thorne had put him through.
But this picture was different.
At lunch, he silently slid a sheet of paper across the picnic table toward Ellie with trembling fingers.
A man stood on the cliffs above the beach.
Watching them through binoculars.
Ellie’s stomach tightened instantly.
“Who is that, sweetheart?” she asked carefully.
Leo shrugged, though fear flickered in his eyes.
“The man from my dreams.”
Kael immediately took the drawing.
His expression darkened.
“Leo,” he said quietly, “has this man ever spoken to you?”
“In the dreams.” Leo swallowed nervously. “He says my name. He says I’m special.”
Ellie’s blood turned cold.
Kael was already standing, scanning the cliffs overlooking the beach.
Nothing.
Only jagged rock, wind, and circling seagulls.
Still, Ellie could feel the tension radiating off him.
“We’re leaving,” Kael said sharply.
Grace looked up in confusion. “But our stuff”
“Now.”
The drive back to the penthouse was silent.
Grace and Leo fell asleep quickly in the backseat while Kai remained awake, staring out the window as though expecting danger to emerge from every passing car.
Ellie reached for Kael’s hand resting on the center console.
“Who is he?” she whispered.
“I don’t know.”
“But you’re scared.”
Kael stared straight ahead at the road.
“I’m not scared.”
Then he glanced at her briefly, and Ellie saw the truth hidden beneath the lie.
“I’m terrified.”
The package waiting outside the penthouse confirmed her worst fears.
A plain brown box sat neatly against the door.
No sender.
No fingerprints.
Inside, nestled carefully in black velvet, rested a single white chess queen.
Beside it was a handwritten note.
The game continues.
—M
Kael picked up the porcelain piece slowly.
His face went pale.
“Moreau,” he whispered.
Ellie frowned. “Who?”
“A ghost.” His jaw tightened. “Thorne’s mentor. I thought he was dead.”
Before Ellie could ask another question, Kael’s phone rang.
Elena.
The name alone filled the room with tension.
Kael hadn’t spoken to his former partner in years—not since she tried warning him about Thorne before everything collapsed.
He answered immediately.
“Kael,” Elena said tightly, “we need to talk. About Moreau. And about why he’s been watching your family for the past year.”
The café Elena chose was crowded enough to discourage violence but quiet enough for secrets.
She looked exactly the same as Ellie remembered—sharp cheekbones, sharp eyes, sharper instincts.
Without wasting time, Elena slid a thick folder across the table.
“Moreau approached me eighteen months ago,” she explained. “He wanted access to your company’s security systems.”
Kael’s expression hardened. “And?”
“I refused.”
“What happened next?”
Elena looked directly at Ellie.
“He showed me photographs of your children.”
Ellie felt her chest tighten.
“Grace leaving school. Kai at the park. Leo during therapy sessions.” Elena exhaled shakily. “He said if I warned you, they’d die before I finished the phone call.”
Kael’s hands curled into fists beneath the table.
Ellie leaned forward. “What does he want?”
“Everything,” Elena answered immediately. “Your company. Your children. Your legacy.”
“He sounds obsessed.”
“He’s worse than Thorne,” Elena said grimly. “Thorne wanted revenge. Moreau wants control.”
Kael opened the folder.
Inside were months of surveillance photographs.
The beach.
The penthouse.
School runs.
Medical appointments.
Every part of their lives documented.
“He’s been tracking us for over a year,” Kael muttered.
“Longer,” Elena admitted quietly. “Since the twins were born.”
Ellie’s heart stopped.
“What?”
Elena hesitated before continuing.
“Moreau introduced Thorne to Dr. Sloan. He orchestrated everything from the beginning.”
That night the city lights glittered below the penthouse balcony while Kael and Ellie stood wrapped in silence.
Fear hung heavily between them.
“Why didn’t you tell me about Elena?” Ellie finally asked.
“Because I didn’t trust her.”
“And now?”
Kael stared out over the skyline.
“I don’t trust anyone.”
Ellie stepped closer until he looked at her instead.
“You trust me?”
“With everything.”
“Then stop shutting me out.” She took his hands gently. “We survived Thorne. We survive this too. Together.”
For a moment, the hardness in Kael’s expression cracked.
He pulled her against him, burying his face in her hair.
“Together,” he whispered.
But inside the apartment, unseen by either of them, Leo slowly sat upright in bed.
Moonlight spilled across the room as he reached for his crayons.
Quietly, carefully, he began to draw.
When Ellie found the picture later that night, her blood froze instantly.
The drawing showed the penthouse balcony.
Kael and Ellie standing together.
And behind them
A tall figure with no face.
Watching.
Beneath the image, written in shaky childlike handwriting, were four chilling words:
He’s already inside.
- Writer
