Howl of the Forgotten

RIPPLES

The office stayed quiet long after Cassandra left.

Tessa didn’t realize she’d been holding her breath until the tension eased from her shoulders. She closed the meeting report, saving it to the secured archive Elias had shown her.

Elias stood up from his chair.

“We’re leaving,” he said.

Tessa blinked. “Where?”

He didn’t slow his stride. “You’ll see. Bring your tablet.”

She hurried after him, matching his pace down the corridor. Employees parted instinctively when Elias walked through the floor—some offering nervous greetings, most staying silent. Power didn’t need to announce itself. It adjusted the air.

Tessa kept beside him, careful not to fall behind.

They entered the private elevator.

For a moment, they stood in quiet.

The city moved beneath them in reflections of steel and glass.

“You did well today,” Elias said.

The words were simple, but they landed heavy—like praise from someone who rarely gave it.

Tessa’s pulse warmed. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me.” His tone remained calm. “Just remember it.”

The elevator doors slid open to the underground garage.

A sleek black car waited—engine already running.

The driver stepped out and opened the door.

Elias gestured for her to enter.

---

The city rushed past as they drove—markets, street vendors, mirrored towers, the river flickering between buildings. Tessa watched the world blur, but Elias watched her.

“You’re wondering why I brought you,” he said.

She didn’t deny it. “I assume it isn’t a lunch break.”

“No,” he said. “This is something else.”

The car pulled into a narrow street lined with weathered brick buildings and shuttered storefronts. The city’s shine didn’t reach here. This place smelled like old stories and survival.

They stopped outside a small café—no sign, no menu, no branding.

Elias stepped out.

Tessa followed.

Inside, a single elderly man stood behind the counter polishing a glass. His eyes lifted—sharp, recognizing Elias instantly.

“You haven’t come here in years,” the man said quietly.

Elias nodded. “I know.”

The man’s gaze shifted to Tessa—curious, measuring.

“This is Miss Hart,” Elias said before the man could ask.

Not assistant.

Not staff.

Just her name.

The man seemed to understand that meant something.

“Your usual?” he asked.

Elias looked to Tessa instead of answering.

“Choose for both of us,” he said.

Tessa froze for half a second.

It was not about coffee.

It was about reading a room.

Reading him.

She looked around—at the worn wooden tables, the books stacked under the counter, the quiet hum of something that felt almost… familiar.

“Black,” she said. “No sugar. For both.”

The elderly man nodded, approving.

When he walked away, Tessa glanced at Elias.

“Why bring me here?”

Elias’s gaze softened almost imperceptibly.

“This was my mother’s café,” he said.

Tessa felt something shift—quiet, human, unexpected.

“She built it before anything else in my life existed,” he continued. “Before money. Before influence. Before the world decided who I should be.”

He rested his hands on the back of the chair.

“No boardroom teaches loyalty. Or truth. Or motive.”

He looked at her.

“But places like this do.”

Tessa understood.

This wasn’t a test of business.

It was a test of character.

Before she could speak, the café door opened.

A woman stepped inside—young, sharp-eyed, wearing a jacket marked with a security emblem Tessa didn’t recognize.

“Mr. Kane,” she said quietly. “You’re being followed.”

Everything stopped.

Elias didn’t react with fear.

He simply exhaled—slow, steady.

“Tessa,” he said, his voice dropping to something low and precise.

“Yes?”

“Remember what I told you.”

People never come with their first intention.

The woman’s eyes flickered to Tessa.

And Tessa finally saw it—

The real meeting hadn’t been Cassandra.

It was now.