Echoes of the Past

The night was calm, yet there was an unsettling energy in the air of Nathan Chase's penthouse. The soft hum of the central air system filled the room, a backdrop to the muted chaos in his mind. Floor-to-ceiling windows stretched across one side of the living room, framing a mesmerizing view of the city. Lights from the bustling streets below flickered like distant stars, while the skyline stood as a testament to the city's relentless ambition—a reflection of Nathan's own rise to prominence.

Nathan sat motionless in his living room, his imposing figure contrasting with the casual attire he wore. Gray sweatpants and a plain black T-shirt clung to his athletic frame, a stark departure from the tailored suits that usually defined his image. His phone lay on the sleek glass coffee table before him, its screen glowing faintly, but his attention was elsewhere. His sharp eyes were fixed on the glittering skyline, though he wasn't truly seeing it.

His mind was consumed, trapped in a vortex of thoughts that kept circling back to one name.

Claire Bennett.

The name played over and over in his head like a haunting melody, each syllable stirring emotions he thought had long been buried. He leaned back into the plush leather couch, resting his head against its backrest, as a deep sigh escaped his lips. The quiet, controlled demeanor he presented to the world faltered in the privacy of his home. Tonight, he let the memories in.

---

Flashback: The Orphanage

The orphanage was a world apart from the shimmering luxury Nathan now inhabited. Back then, he was just another nameless face in a sea of forgotten children. Days blurred into weeks, and weeks into months in that lifeless place, where survival meant keeping your head down and your emotions locked away.

But that day was different.

The sun was high, casting a golden glow over the orphanage courtyard. Nathan, a wiry boy of ten, had retreated to his favorite spot under an old tree. In his hands was a battered book, one of the few treasures the orphanage library held—a book about animals. He had buried himself in its pages, seeking escape in the stories of creatures far away.

He hadn't noticed the group of visitors until a cheerful voice broke through his focus.

"Hi! What are you reading?"

Startled, Nathan looked up to see a girl about his age standing before him. Her pigtails swayed as she tilted her head curiously, her smile radiating warmth. Her clothes were neat and colorful, a stark contrast to his hand-me-down shirt and shorts.

"It's… just a book about animals," he muttered, hastily closing it to hide its tattered condition.

"Animals are cool! What's your favorite?" she asked, her tone unrelenting in its friendliness.

Nathan hesitated. No one ever asked him questions like this, and he wasn't used to the attention. Finally, he mumbled, "Wolves."

Her eyes lit up. "Wolves are amazing! Did you know they live in packs and take care of each other? My dad says they're like families."

Nathan blinked at her, unsure how to respond. But before he could find the words, she plopped down beside him as if they'd known each other forever.

"I'm Claire. What's your name?" she said, extending her hand.

"Nathan," he replied cautiously, taking her hand.

For hours, they talked. Or rather, she talked while Nathan listened, slowly warming to her infectious enthusiasm. Claire told him about her life, her little sister Emma, and her love for drawing animals. She even drew a small wolf on the back of a piece of paper she found in her pocket and gave it to him.

Before she left, Claire took off a colorful bracelet from her wrist. It was made of simple beads, but to Nathan, it looked like treasure.

"You should have this," she said, sliding it onto his wrist. "So you'll remember you're special."

It was the first time anyone had made him feel seen.

---

Present Day

Nathan's hand moved to his wrist, his fingers brushing over the spot where the bracelet had once been. He had outgrown it years ago, but he still kept it, tucked away in a box alongside the letter Claire had written him before leaving. Her words were faded, but he had memorized them long ago.

Recently, those memories had resurfaced with startling clarity, pulling him into a spiral he couldn't escape. It wasn't just nostalgia—it was her. Claire was no longer a distant memory from his fractured childhood. She was real, alive, and somehow back in his orbit.

But not as he had hoped.

She belonged to Ethan Blake.

Nathan's jaw clenched, his expression darkening. Ethan Blake didn't deserve her. From the few photos Nathan had seen online, Claire's smile was as radiant as ever. But seeing that smile directed at another man had been like a dagger to his chest. He couldn't help but wonder—did she even remember him? Did she remember the boy under the tree, the bracelet, the promise that had meant so much to him?

His phone buzzed on the table, jolting him out of his thoughts. He leaned forward and picked it up, the name on the screen instantly grounding him: Oliver Greene.

"Sir, I've compiled the information you requested," Oliver said, his voice efficient and businesslike.

"Good. Bring it to me first thing in the morning," Nathan replied, his tone clipped and commanding.

As he ended the call, Nathan set the phone down and returned his gaze to the city lights. His reflection stared back at him in the glass, a reminder of the man he had become—calculated, powerful, and relentless.

The decision was made. He wasn't going to sit idly by and watch Claire slip further away. She had been his light in the darkness once, and he wasn't about to let anyone take that from him again.

Not Ethan Blake.

Not anyone.

For Nathan Chase, the past was never truly gone—it echoed, demanding to be heard. And he was ready to answer its call.