Chapter 3
1000 Words
Valemont City – The Royce Hotel, 2:11 A.M.
Selene stared at the old photograph glowing faintly on her laptop screen. She had scanned it years ago, just in case it faded. It had been buried in her sister’s art box creased, smudged, and nearly lost. But it was all the proof she had that once, before Cassien Vortiger became untouchable, he had cared about her.
In the photo, they were sitting in a hospital waiting room, both of them soot-smudged and dazed. His arm was around her. She clung to his side like he was the only thing left standing. And at that moment, he was.
Until he vanished.
She zoomed in on his face, hoping foolishly that something in his expression might explain why he left. But there was only a boy who looked terrified, furious, and fiercely protective.
Not the man he was now.
The man she worked beside all day.
The man who handed her coffee like a stranger.
She closed the laptop and leaned back in bed, staring at the ceiling fan spinning above her. Her heart was heavier than it should have been. She had come here for answers. For closure, maybe revenge. Not to feel anything again.
And yet…
His voice still echoed in her chest.
"You remind me of someone."
She whispered into the darkness, “I am someone.”
The next morning, Selene arrived at Vortiger Tower early, her face calm, her walk steady. The assistant at the front desk gave a nervous smile as she swiped her ID and stepped into the executive elevator. She didn’t feel powerful but she looked like she belonged. And in Cassien’s world, appearance was everything.
She didn’t see him until the first strategy meeting of the day. A full room, twenty faces, twelve suits, all eyes flicking between the projected figures and Cassien’s deadpan expression.
He sat at the head of the table, fingers steepled, unmoved by chaos.
But when Selene entered, he looked up.
Just for a second.
A pause.
A glance.
Almost… recognition?
But it passed like a shadow. He turned to the data analyst without a word.
The meeting dragged on until lunch, but Selene barely noticed the jargon or projections. She couldn’t stop watching him the way he dissected arguments, the way silence seemed like a tactic for him, a battlefield advantage.
He wasn’t just a billionaire.
He was a man who had survived something.
And she needed to know what.
After the meeting, she returned to her office. Five minutes later, a file arrived in a sealed envelope, no digital trail. It was slid under the door.
She frowned, bent down, and opened it.
Inside was a single sheet of paper:
Vortiger Medical Record —Partial Extract (Redacted)
Her heart froze.
She scanned it quickly. Dates. Medical codes. Diagnoses. There it was eight years ago, two weeks after the fire.
"Blunt force trauma. Retrograde amnesia suspected. Short-term memory disruption. Recovered stability within two weeks. No long-term intervention administered."
No wonder he didn’t remember.
The betrayal hadn’t been deliberate.
He hadn’t left her.
He had forgotten her.
Selene sat back in the chair, her eyes burning.
She remembered that day like yesterday the police tape, the gurney, Lysa’s tiny hand clutching hers. She had looked for Cassien every day for a week before the nurses stopped answering her questions. She thought he had moved on. Chosen ambition. Abandoned her.
But maybe… he hadn’t.
Maybe he had been broken, too.
Her hand shook slightly as she slid the paper back into the envelope. She had wanted revenge, to make him feel the sting of abandonment. But what now?
What did you do with a man who had forgotten your pain?
Who had broken a vow without knowing it?
At 6:00 P.M., Selene received a calendar invite from Cassien himself. No details. Just:
Private: 7:30 PM — Estate Office.
She stared at the notification.
The estate.
His private residence.
Why was he inviting her there?
By 7:25 P.M., she was in a private car winding up the coastal cliffs to the Vortiger estate. It rose like a castle above the ocean glass, stone, steel, and shadows.
The driver said nothing as he dropped her at the side entrance. A housekeeper led her down a dim hallway until they reached a door with an ornate bronze handle. She knocked once.
Cassien’s voice answered. “Come in.”
He was standing at the far end of a private office, a glass of whiskey in his hand, no tie, shirt sleeves rolled to the elbow. Behind him, the ocean glowed dark and endless.
Selene entered quietly, the door clicking shut behind her.
“You wanted to speak?” she asked.
He didn’t look at her immediately. Instead, he gestured to the old wooden table beside him. Spread across it were artifacts files, photos, newspaper clippings. And in the center, a single picture.
The same photo she kept on her laptop.
Her breath caught.
“Where did you get that?” she whispered.
Cassien turned. “I found it two days ago in one of my old properties. I don’t know who she is. But I’ve been staring at her for hours, and I can’t stop thinking… I knew her.”
Selene’s heart thundered. She forced herself forward.
“Do you remember anything about that day?” she asked.
He shook his head slowly. “Only fragments. Fire. Smoke. Screaming. A girl holding my hand. A promise I made to someone…”
His voice cracked a little.
Selene stepped closer. The candlelight flickered against her skin.
“And if that girl were standing in front of you now?” she asked. “What would you say?”
Cassien stared at her.
Long and hard.
“I’d ask why she never came back.”
Selene felt the floor tilt beneath her.
She looked down at the photo, then back at him.
And for the first time, she whispered her real name:
“My name is Selene Morane.”
- Writer
