Illusions of Normalcy

The scent of freshly brewed coffee and warm pastries drifted through the shopping district, mingling with the subtle perfume of department stores and the faint hum of passing conversations. The streets were lined with boutique storefronts, their glass windows reflecting the midday sun, each one offering an escape into a world of silk, leather, and understated luxury.

As Jessica walked past boutique windows, her gaze paused briefly on a display featuring intricately carved chess pieces. A fleeting thought of Mr. Black surfaced. It was a reminder that his games were never really over. She shook off the feeling and kept moving.

They had been at it for hours. Moving from boutique to boutique. Looking in one window after the other. They had done it long enough for the sunlight to change angles and increase Sam’s enthusiasm for early retirement.

Jessica adjusted the strap of her purse, glancing at the man walking beside her. Sam Holden looked mildly tortured.

“Remind me why I agreed to this?” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck as they passed yet another clothing boutique.

Sam glanced around with an exaggerated sigh but discreetly adjusted the collar of his shirt—the one Jessica had picked out. She noticed and smiled to herself. Sam might complain, but he paid more attention than he’d admit.

Jessica smirked, linking her arm through his. “Because you love me.”

Sam exhaled heavily, casting a glance at the mannequins in the window—one of them draped in a low-cut, crimson dress that Jessica was already considering trying on.

Sam glanced at her sideways, a faint smile at the corner of his mouth. “I suppose someone has to.”

Jessica chuckled, squeezing his arm before pulling him into the store.

---

The Shopping District was a fleeting illusion. It was Hannah who had taught her to enjoy this.

In another life, Jason would have considered shopping a waste of time, something endured out of necessity rather than indulged in for pleasure. He would’ve rushed through this store, irritated and restless. But Jessica had learned to appreciate the ritual of it, the quiet luxury of taking time to admire the cut of a jacket, the feel of fabric between her fingers, the way a single outfit could transform perception. She savored these moments. These simple, human rituals helped ground her. Yet sometimes, glimpsing her reflection, she wondered how much of this woman she’d created was real, and how much was just another carefully constructed mask.

She stepped into the dressing room, running her fingers over the smooth fabric of the red dress before slipping into it. It clung in all the right places.

She turned, studying her reflection. The woman staring back at her was confident, poised. Controlled. It was a lie, but a convincing one.

She stepped out of the dressing room, catching Sam’s reaction instantly. He tried to play it off—a small tilt of his head, a flicker of his gaze over her curves. But she saw the way his throat tightened.

He cleared his throat lightly. “You planning to wear that or weaponize it?”

Jessica smiled. “Good?”

Sam took a slow breath, expression carefully neutral, though his eyes softened just a fraction. “You know exactly what you’re doing.”

She stepped closer, letting the fabric brush against him as she leaned up to whisper. “Maybe.”

Sam raised an eyebrow slightly, voice quiet but firm. “Someday, you’ll explain why trouble always finds you.”

Jessica smirked. “You love that about me.”

Sam adjusted his jacket, eyes lingering briefly on Jessica. “You sure don’t make things easy.”

---

Jessica’s phone buzzed in her purse, and she glanced at the screen. Another cryptic message from Leanna:

>Something new brewing overseas. Might have details soon.

“Trouble?” Sam asked, noticing her brief distraction.

Jessica forced a casual smile. “Probably just work. It can wait.”

The next stop was a jewelry boutique, its minimalist displays gleaming beneath soft white lighting. Jessica ran her fingers over a row of delicate gold chains, pausing when she spotted a small chess pawn pendant.

Jessica weighed the pawn pendant in her palm, its smooth surface cold and deceptive. It was identical to the pawns Mr. Black habitually left behind, small taunts marking every step she took closer to his endgame. She turned it over in her fingers, feeling the weight of it in her palm. It wasn’t just a symbol of the game he thought she was playing. Pawns rarely survived the endgame. But sometimes they reached the other side, transforming into something stronger. Turning into something deadly

She turned the pendant over slowly, recalling the last time she’d seen such a piece. Remembering the last time Mr. Black left it. He always made sure she saw the message clearly: she was a piece, his piece, in a game without rules.

It was hers now. It was a mark of solidarity, a quiet defiance against those who thought they controlled the board.

Sam leaned in. “A pawn?”

Jessica hummed. “The most underestimated piece.” She bought three.

Later, as they walked through the district, she turned them over in her hands. Three pendants. Three reminders that no matter what their enemies thought, they weren’t pawns. They were a team. And that meant everything.

---

By the time she returned to the beach house, Leanna was waiting for her in the common room, arms crossed, expression unreadable.

Jessica set the small box on the table and slid it toward her.

“What’s this?” Leanna asked.

Jessica shrugged. “Gift.”

Leanna lifted the lid, brows furrowing as she pulled out the gold chain. Olivia entered the room just as she was turning it over in her fingers.

“You’re giving us jewelry now?” Olivia asked, leaning over to examine the pendants. “What, are we a sorority?”

Jessica smirked. “Something like that.”

Leanna ran her thumb over the chess piece, her frown deepening. “We’re not pawns, Jess.”

Jessica met her gaze steadily, voice edged with quiet intensity. “Not anymore. Never again.”

Leanna turned the pendant over in her hand, understanding settling behind her eyes. They had been underestimated before. That would never happen again.

---

The tension in the room eased slightly, replaced quickly by a different kind of silence—one Jessica recognized well.

“There’s more,” Leanna finally said, “Something new – something unrelated, at least on the surface.”

Jessica exhaled slowly. On the surface was exactly where trouble always began.

Leanna let the silence settle before reaching into her jacket, pulling out a folded dossier. She tossed it onto the table.

“New job,” she said. “Kyoto.”

Jessica arched her brow. “We’re doing travel work now?”

Leanna leaned against the counter, arms crossed. “A contact reached out. High-profile artifact thefts. She needs a team that doesn’t answer to anyone official.”

Jessica opened the folder, scanning the brief. A name stood out. Yuki Nakamura.

Leanna nodded. “She’s an old contact of mine. She thinks this case might be bigger than it looks.”

Jessica closed the file.

A fresh job. A clean break. Something unrelated to Vanguard or Mr. Black. She should have felt relieved. Instead, her thumb brushed absently over the pawn pendant, dread curling softly in her chest. A fresh start meant facing the unknown again, more questions, more shadows. But wasn’t that always the way? Every new move felt less like progress, more like willingly stepping deeper into a trap she couldn’t yet see.

Either way you look at it, a move had been made. But this time, they weren’t playing by anyone else’s rules.