Chapter 3 The Man Who Forgot

I couldn't remember the last time I'd felt this unsettled.

Vale Dominion's glass-and-steel fortress stretched above me, a monument to control, power, and the meticulous life I'd built from the fragments of a boy who once knew pain too intimately. And yet, today, something, someone had thrown everything into question.

Her name danced on the edge of my memory. "The brave girl".

The one who had reached for me when the world had turned its back. I had promised myself I'd find her again. That I'd never forget the courage in her small hands, the fire in her chest that defied cruelty.

And now... I wasn't sure whether she was my protector or my executioner.

I watched the lower floor from my office window, the bustling employees like ants beneath the glass.

And there she was. Liora Ashford. Or... someone who bore the same measured steps, the same hesitant poise. My mind refused to reconcile the years with the scarred, quiet woman before me. Something about her didn't fit, yet the pull was undeniable.

I turned back to my desk, fingers drumming against the polished wood, heart betraying the calm exterior I presented to the board, to the world, to Selene, Selene.

That name burned like acid across my thoughts. The way she'd stepped into my meeting today, claiming familiarity, planting doubt.

Her laughter had been a weapon, subtle, precise, and infuriatingly convincing.

"You always said you'd find her again."

I had.

Or had I?

The office hummed with activity, and yet every sound, every movement, blurred around her presence. I couldn't focus. Orders, reports, strategy meetings they all became background noise to the storm of memory and uncertainty she stirred.

My assistant, ever vigilant, cleared his throat. "Sir, the board meeting will begin in ten minutes."

I nodded, forcing my posture into perfection. But even as I walked through the halls toward the conference room, my mind refused to release her. The scarred cheek, the subtle curve of her jaw, the way she carried herself with a fragile strength that had somehow survived the years... it haunted me.

Selene had orchestrated her presence like a poison thread, weaving confusion into every glance, every whispered comment. She thought she could rewrite history, claim my childhood savior as her own.

And yet, when I looked at Liora, when I truly looked, I felt the smallest flicker of recognition. A memory I had buried, a warmth I had denied myself for years.

I reached the conference room, all glass walls and cold steel, a place where decisions shaped the fates of thousands. And yet, all I could think about was her.

Selene entered moments later, flawless as ever. Her eyes flicked to me, a mixture of satisfaction and challenge, and then toward the woman who had unwittingly stolen the scene.

"Cassian," she said softly, a silk-coated blade hidden beneath civility. "She seems... different today."

I ignored her words, scanning the room, calculating, assessing.

There was something familiar in the way Liora held herself, the quiet restraint, the subtle tension in her shoulders. Something that spoke of past battles, of survival, of unspoken courage.

I should have known. I should have remembered.

And yet, my mind faltered.

The meeting began. Numbers, strategies, acquisitions, mergers all the things that consumed my waking hours. And yet, my attention kept straying, pulled by the gravity of the woman I had longed to see for years.

Every detail, every expression, every subtle gesture fed the gnawing question: Could this be her? Could this scarred, quiet woman be the girl who once saved me?*

Selene spoke again, and I nearly jumped at the sound. Her voice, honeyed, precise, threaded with insinuation. "You seem... distracted, Cassian. Perhaps someone has finally earned your attention."

My jaw tightened. Her arrogance was infuriating. She could not know. She could not manipulate what was beneath the surface, the memory, the promise, the ache.

As the meeting dragged on, I tried to focus.

Reports, projections, figures all meaningless compared to the weight of what I felt creeping closer to recognition.

Every time Liora's gaze met mine, even fleetingly, a spark of something unnameable ignited in my chest. Confusion, longing, a shadow of the boy I had once been vulnerable, grateful, and alive in the presence of her courage.

After the meeting, I couldn't stop myself. I had to see her, speak with her, test the edges of memory that threatened to break.

"Liora," I said, voice low, commanding attention even in the crowded hallway. She froze. Her eyes flicked up: startled, cautious, unreadable.

I studied her, searching for confirmation in the smallest details: the tilt of her chin, the curve of her lips, the hesitation in her steps.

I wanted to call it recognition, but fear held me back. Selene had already seeded doubt, already claimed victory in subtle ways.

"You need to come with me," I said. Not a request. Not a command. A necessity.

She hesitated. Her hands trembled slightly, betraying the calm mask she wore so carefully. "I... I don't understand," she whispered.

"You will," I said, stepping closer, heart hammering in a way I had not felt in years. "There are things you need to know. Things I should have remembered. Things that have been waiting for us both."

Her breath caught, the tiniest flicker of fear and recognition? crossing her features.

And then Selene appeared again, emerging from the side corridor, her presence like a shadow that refused to release its grip.

"Cassian," she said, voice syrupy, deceptively innocent, "don't forget we have obligations. You cannot ignore them... even for old memories."

Her words were a trap. A warning. A distraction. And yet, I couldn't move my eyes from Liora. Something about her, about that quiet resilience, pulled me further than caution, strategy, or duty would allow.

"Stay here," I said finally, voice low, almost a growl. "For now."

She nodded, swallowing hard. And as I turned to Selene, I felt the first stirrings of something dangerous: the fragile barrier between memory and recognition beginning to crack.

A memory flashed rusty swings, childhood laughter, trembling hands held, whispered promises that light still existed even in broken places.

I blinked. Shook my head. Focus. Control. Selene would use any weakness.

But even as I tried to steady myself, I knew. Deep down. Too deeply.

The girl who had saved me... was here.

And I could not ignore her.

Not anymore.

Yet as I stepped forward to confront what my mind had almost named, Selene's hand brushed mine briefly just enough to remind me of her power, her claim. A cruel smirk touched her lips. "Do you really think you can see everything, Cassian?"

I froze. My chest tightened, the room spun, and for the first time in years, I felt the precariousness of my own certainty.

Because now, the real danger wasn't Selene. It wasn't the board. It wasn't even the empire I had built.

It was remembering.

Remembering everything I had lost.

And realizing the girl who had once been my world was standing just out of reach, hidden behind fear, scars, and silence.

A cold certainty settled over me: the next time she moved, the next word she spoke, the next breath she drew, would change everything.

And I had no idea if I would be able to protect her... or destroy myself trying.