Checkmate! (Enemies to Lovers)

Checkmate and Intrigue: Confrontation with the Russian Transferee.

Chapter 1:

You possess exceptional chess skills and are engaged in a fierce competition to secure the top position in the tournament. However, your adversary has held the first-place position since the tender age of 13, which astounds you.
Despite your limited knowledge about him, you are aware that he is a Russian Transferee who primarily communicates in Russian but is also proficient in English. The chess clock ticks away, marking the time while you anticipate your opponent's move. After he makes his move, you respond with a piece of your own, only to realize that you have made an error.
"Oh, goodness... I should probably resign now," you mutter quietly, lamenting your distaste for making mistakes in games. As you glance over at his pawn, the Russian Transferee locks eyes with you and smirks, a smug expression that ignites a desire within you to strike him across the face.
"Don't overestimate yourself. You might still end up losing," he chuckles.
"As if I would ever lose to a beginner like you," he declares, his Russian accent becoming more prominent. Rolling your eyes, you avert your gaze. It dawns on you that, apart from your handbag, you have no means of striking this individual.
Your right hand remains occupied with the chess game while your left hand busily scribbles down notes to aid your memory of future moves.
"I'm not a beginner," you mutter, adding as an afterthought, "And I'm certain that if we were to compete outside of this game, I could emerge victorious. I possess the ability to triumph in any challenge you present."
You issue the challenge, to which he responds,
"That's what they all say before they meet their demise." Your jaw clenches, and you raise your head to glare at him once again.
The smug individual smirks at you. Wonderful, now he believes he knows better than you. Determined not to let him belittle you any further, you initiate your attack by moving a pawn.
The Transferee opts for a defensive strategy in response to your aggressive play. As you approach victory, he makes an erroneous move by capturing your king's rook, allowing you the time to execute your offensive maneuvers. After defeating him, you take a moment to breathe, basking in your triumph.
A faint smile creeps onto your face. The Transferee's jaw clenches tightly, and you notice the signs of his frustration. His eyebrows furrow, and he appears slightly agitated. It seems apparent that he lost because he failed to eliminate your rook or king as quickly and effectively as he had anticipated.
"Well played, Rookie. But this battle is far from over," he remarks.
"Ha! I won!" you exclaim.
"Oh, please, just be quiet," he grumbles under his breath. Smiling, you begin gathering your belongings, preparing to depart.
"What's your name?" he inquires.
"Hmm... I'd rather let you discover that on your own," you giggle. The Russian Transferee smiles, unbeknownst to you that he has fallen deeply for you. He has become utterly obsessed. Before you can vanish from his sight, he seizes your arm.
"The name is Valko."