Howl of the Forgotten

THE EDGE OF THE STORY

They sat across from each other—daylight cold against the windows, the river shifting in slow, silver fragments below. Tessa waited. Not leaning forward, not anxious—just present.

Elias noticed that.

He always noticed.

“My family… wasn’t a single thing,” he began. “It was two worlds forced together.”

He spoke without dramatics, without rehearsed pauses—just truth.

“My mother worked in that café. For her, life was quiet. Real. Earned coffee by coffee. She believed in people.”

His eyes drifted—just slightly.

“My father did not do it

Tessa didn’t interrupt. She didn’t soften. She simply listened—a rarity Elias didn’t take lightly.

“He controlled ports, supply chains, private security firms. The kind of business where laws are just suggestions.”

The simplicity of his tone made the reality sharpen.

“He liked power. He liked ownership. And at some point, he decided he should own me too.”

Tessa’s fingers tightened around the fabric of her brown trousers—just once—then relaxed.

“What did your mother do?” she asked softly.

“She left,” Elias said. “She took me. We lived above the café for six years. Quiet. Safe. Hidden.”

There was a pause. A breath.

“Then he found us.”

Tessa felt the weight of that without him needing to explain.

Elias leaned back in the chair—not relaxing, simply giving memories enough room to move.

“I didn’t see her again after that day,” he said.

No tremor. No break. Just a truth that had been carried for a very long time.

Tessa understood something then:

He didn’t fear losing control.

He feared what control had cost him.

Finally, she spoke—carefully.

“Is that why you built your company the way you did? Clean. Structured. Nothing messy. Nothing vulnerable.”

Elias looked at her—not surprised, but… seen.

“Yes,” he said.

She nodded. Not in pity. In recognition.

“What people misunderstand,” he continued, “is that I don’t seek power because I enjoy control. I seek it because if I don’t have it—someone else will.”

Someone like his father.

Someone like Cassandra’s backers.

Tessa exhaled—not with fear, but acceptance.

This wasn’t a man who lived above danger.

This was a man who had survived inside it.

The room stayed quiet for a long moment.

Then Tessa said something that made him look at her differently:

“You didn’t bring me into your life because I’m useful.”

She didn’t ask. She stated.

“You brought me in because you were tired of being surrounded by people who are afraid of you.”

A quiet, unguarded silence filled the space.

Elias didn’t confirm it.

He didn’t need to.

Instead, he said:

“There will be consequences for staying by my side.”

Tessa held his gaze—steady, unwavering.

“There are consequences for every choice,” she replied. “But I don’t run.”

A faint, almost imperceptible smile touched Elias’s mouth.

Not soft.

Almost… proud.

“We’ll see,” he said.

But his tone had changed.

It wasn’t distant anymore.

It held something else.

Something forming.

Something dangerous.

Something human.