The Return
The city hadn’t changed.
It still smelled of rain, smoke, and secrets.
Elara Voss stood at the edge of the platform, her suitcase at her feet, watching the night lights flicker like nervous stars. Seven years ago, she had left this place with nothing but grief and rage. Now she was back—with a plan.
Her father had died here.
Or so they claimed.
She adjusted her coat and stepped into the crowd. No tears. No hesitation. Revenge required patience.
The café on Ashbury Street was exactly where the file said it would be.
That was where she saw him.
Adrian Hale sat alone, sleeves rolled up, dark hair falling effortlessly into his eyes. He looked harmless—too harmless for a city like this. When their eyes met, something sharp passed between them. Recognition? No. Curiosity.
He smiled.
“New in town?” he asked, standing.
Elara should have walked away.
Instead, she shook his hand.
“Just passing through,” she lied.
Neither of them noticed the man across the street lowering his phone, whispering into it.
“She’s back.”
And far beneath the city, a name long erased was being spoken again—
Marcellus Voss.