Chapter 3: The Shattered Titan
Elara didn't know why the room had gone quiet. She just knew the fear had changed. It wasn't the cold, professional fear of the guards anymore; it was something raw and electric.
Silas Vance walked toward her. His expensive Italian loafers made no sound on the carpet. His wife, Elena, sat frozen in her chair, her hand clamped over her mouth. She knew the mark. She knew the history. She knew the tragedy that had nearly broken Silas seven years ago—the night their daughter was taken in a fire that should have left nothing behind.
Silas stopped inches from Elara. He reached out, his hand shaking. He didn't grab her; he hovered, terrified that if he touched her, she would vanish like smoke.
"Elara?" he choked out, the name tasting like salt and grief.
May you like
The little girl blinked, tears tracking clean lines through the dirt on her cheeks. "How do you know my name?"
The man who ruled the city collapsed to his knees, not in submission, but in overwhelming relief. He pulled her into his arms, burying his face in her matted, frozen hair. The most feared man in the country was sobbing, his shoulders heaving.
