Alpha's Regret: The Seventh Time was Forever-Chapter 91 – You saved me.

Voren Ashkael was not Corvine, and he certainly was not one of her gentle adopted parents who allowed her clever traps to unfold without crushing them before they could bloom.

Even before the game began, Seraphine already understood that the odds were not leaning in her favor, and the thin, satisfied smile curling along Ravyn’s lips only sharpened that realization until it felt like a blade pressing quietly against her pride.

The sight of that smile stirred something inside her that burned hotter than reason, because she wanted nothing more than to wipe it off his face and replace it with the stunned disbelief of someone watching their certainty crumble right in front of them.

Voren’s voice drifted across the room from where he sat on the couch, calm and smooth in a way that made the words sound almost courteous even though the meaning behind them carried an unmistakable weight.

"Don’t worry," he said in a tone that remained as steady as polished marble. "I will go easy on you, but also remember that I have a reputation to protect."

Seraphine let out a quiet laugh that carried just enough sound to acknowledge his comment, although the faint curve of her lips never reached her eyes.

What a beautifully polite way to tell someone they had already lost before the first piece even touched the board.

"I’ll take my chances," she replied, her voice steady even while a storm of determination gathered inside her chest.

At that moment the waiters began preparing the space for the match, moving through the luxurious club with a smooth efficiency that suggested they had performed similar transformations many times before.

Furniture was arranged and repositioned until the center of the room resembled a stage designed for spectacle, and the polished chessboard soon rested under the glow of the overhead lights like a centerpiece meant to command every eye in the room.

The couches formed a wide crescent around the playing area, curving like a ring of quiet thrones where the members of the Sovereign Circle lounged with their drinks resting on low tables beside them.

Crystal glasses caught the warm lighting while expensive liquor swirled inside, yet the attention of every billionaire present had already drifted away from their drinks and toward the unfolding confrontation.

Curiosity gleamed in their eyes, sharp and hungry, because challenges like this rarely appeared without consequences worth watching.

When the final piece was placed on the board and the arrangement stood complete, Seraphine and Voren approached the table at the same time, their footsteps quiet against the polished floor as they took their places across from one another.

The glow from the lamps above spilled across the chessboard and reflected faintly in their eyes, revealing two completely different forms of confidence staring at each other across the grid of black and white squares.

Seraphine carried the fierce intensity of someone who refused to bend, the kind of determination that burned bright even when logic suggested retreat.

Voren carried something entirely different, something colder and more immovable, like a stone that had existed long before anyone thought to test its strength.

As the first move was made, the room sank into a silence so thick that it almost felt physical, as though every person present had unconsciously stopped breathing in order to witness what might unfold.

Seraphine moved her pieces with urgency and daring, her fingers gliding across the board as her mind raced through possibilities and risks that branched out like an endless network of paths.

Each move carried boldness behind it, a refusal to play timidly in front of an audience that had already decided she stood no chance against the man across from her.

"Voren might just get his ass kicked today," Mark joked loudly from one of the couches, his voice full of amusement that immediately triggered laughter from a few of the men seated nearby.

The humor evaporated the instant Voren lifted his eyes toward him.

The look he gave Mark held no anger and required no raised voice, yet the silent message behind that calm stare made the middle-aged man close his mouth so quickly that the laughter around him faded into awkward quiet.

Across the board, Voren continued answering Seraphine’s aggressive strategy with the kind of calm patience that defined his reputation.

His hand moved across the pieces with careful precision, every placement arriving at the exact moment it needed to exist, as though he had already mapped the entire outcome somewhere inside his mind long before the first pawn began its journey forward.

The contrast between their styles pulled the audience deeper into the match.

Heads leaned forward. Conversations died. Glasses remained untouched as the spectators watched two minds collide over sixty-four squares.

Leon sat among them with tension twisting inside his chest while his hands rested together in a silent prayer that he did not even realize he was making. Beside him, his father and stepmother wore expressions just as tight with anxious hope, because they understood how much this opportunity meant to Seraphine.

Ravyn, on the other hand, leaned back with the relaxed satisfaction of a man who believed he had already witnessed the ending.

In his mind there was never any doubt that Voren would crush her and remove her from the Circle without hesitation.

Minutes crawled forward with agonizing slowness.

Seraphine refused to give ground easily, her determination growing fiercer with every exchange as she pushed forward with strategies that carried both courage and risk.

Her heart pounded in her chest while calculations flickered through her thoughts like lightning, because she knew that every piece she moved carried the weight of far more than a simple game.

She was fighting for her vision.

She was fighting for the chance to sit among these powerful men as something more than an outsider begging for recognition.

She was fighting for power, respect, and the right to shape her own destiny inside a world that had never welcomed her willingly.

Yet as the match progressed and the board slowly emptied piece by piece, the invisible pattern behind Voren’s design began revealing itself with cruel clarity.

The moment arrived when her queen fell, removed from the board with a quiet finality that felt like a door closing.

Her defenses weakened soon after, lines collapsing under pressure that had been building since the beginning of the match.

Then the final move arrived.

Checkmate settled onto the board with the calm authority of a judge delivering a verdict that no argument could reverse.

"Voren won again!" Ravyn shouted across the room with open triumph blazing across his face.

Seraphine leaned back in her chair while a sharp breath escaped her chest, the tension in her body finally releasing now that the outcome had been decided. Her pride remained intact even though the victory she wanted had slipped through her fingers.

Across from her, Voren allowed a small smile to appear.

The expression barely showed on his lips, almost too subtle for anyone to notice, yet it carried the quiet weight of triumph that required no announcement. "You did well," he said calmly.

"You won, congratulations," Seraphine said with a slight bow of acknowledgement, her smile tight.

Around them the Sovereign Circle came alive again as murmurs and whispers rose through the room like drifting smoke.

The outcome had been sealed.

Leon felt a heavy sadness settle in his chest because he knew exactly how much Seraphine had wanted this chance, and his mind raced through possibilities as he searched for some way to help her salvage something from the situation.

Before he could speak or move, Ravyn’s voice cut sharply through the moment just as Seraphine and Voren stepped away from the chessboard.

"Voren won," he declared with cold satisfaction. "So you are out."

Seraphine turned her gaze toward him with a faint smile resting on her lips, her eyes locking onto his with a calm confidence that seemed completely at odds with the defeat she had just suffered.

"I don’t feel like I’m out, big brother," she said softly. "You saved me."

Confusion rippled across the faces of nearly everyone in the room.

Brows furrowed. Eyes narrowed. Silent questions hung in the air as the meaning behind her words refused to reveal itself.

Only one man appeared untouched by the confusion surrounding them.

Voren Ashkael watched her with quiet understanding already shining in his gaze, because he alone had been sharp enough to recognize the hidden card she had kept waiting in her hand.

He gestured calmly toward Ravyn and motioned for him to stand as he prepared to announce the final verdict.