The Billionaire Who Forgot How to Love

Chapter 9: The Versions of Us That Never Survived

Tokyo — Ghosts in the Circuit

Elias stood in the glass corridor of a half-lit data hub beneath the streets of Tokyo. The walls hummed with unfinished code and orphaned digital memories. This wasn't a battlefield. It was a graveyard of versions—of lives edited, lives discarded.

Liv walked behind him, tracing the hum of the walls with her fingertips. "You ever wonder how many versions of us died just so this one could live?"

"Every night," Elias whispered. "And I remember each one. Even the ones I wasn't supposed to."

He stopped in front of a locked cryo-server, sealed with six layers of biometric encryption. Inside was a single drive—Project Echoheart. The last remnant of the first version of Liv.

The one Elias couldn't save.

Liv hesitated. "I'm not her."

"I know. But maybe she deserves to be remembered, too."

He opened the chamber.

Lisbon — The City That Forgot Itself

In the once-bustling capital of Portugal, Oblivion's memory reset had done the worst damage. People wandered like strangers in their own lives. Mothers didn't recognize their children. Artists forgot their names. Entire neighborhoods were silent.

Elias and Liv walked among the fragments.

A woman stood in the middle of a plaza, clutching a photograph. "He was my husband," she said. "I just don't remember what love felt like."

Elias crouched. "That's okay. Love remembers you."

They uploaded Memorykeeper's alpha into Lisbon's network. It was still new, still shaky. But people began to remember songs. Recipes. Birthdays. Names.

And for one man, the laughter of his wife.

Elias's Journal — The Lost Letters

At night, Elias wrote again. In a leather journal. No AI. No spellcheck. Just pain on paper.

To the man I used to be,

You thought work was the way to earn love. You thought sacrifice made you worthy. You thought giving your time to people who never gave back meant you were strong. But you forgot your mother's voice. Your father's hands. The way your daughter called your name.

You weren't weak. But you were blind.

This time, don't save the world. Just love it.

He folded the page, tucked it under his pillow.

Liv read it the next morning and didn't say a word. She just kissed his cheek like she hadn't in weeks.

Montreal — The Man in the Mirror

They hunted the last Oblivion node in Canada—a rogue executive named Kael who had once been Elias's closest friend.

Kael stood in the tower window, looking out at the frozen skyline.

"You made me believe in building something good," Kael said. "Then you left me to rot in it."

"You chose this path," Elias said. "I just stopped following."

"You still dream about her, don't you? The woman from the first life?"

Elias clenched his jaw.

Kael laughed. "You never forgot. And that's why you'll never win. Because love is your weakness."

"No," Elias replied. "It's what made me dangerous."

He let Kael live. Not out of mercy. Out of clarity.

Selene's Code

In Morocco, Selene's software hit its second evolution. She called it Resonance. It didn't just store memories—it helped you feel them again.

A woman in Brazil wept as she remembered her son's lullaby.

A soldier in Korea fell to his knees, hearing the voice of the brother he'd buried.

In Iceland, Solas smiled in a cabin, hearing his own laughter for the first time in decades.

The world wasn't healing fast. But it was healing honestly.

Lisbon (Again) — The Letter from a Forgotten Man

In a dusty corner café, Elias found a letter taped under a table. It was from another man who had once been rich, brilliant, and heartbroken.

They used to call me the architect of futures. Now I can't remember the name of my daughter.

If you're reading this, stranger, don't build your fortune on silence. Don't choose greatness over grace. We don't lose love—we abandon it.

Elias copied it into his journal.

Selene's Anger — A Daughter's Grief

That night, under the stars, Selene finally broke.

"You left her. You left me. Do you even know how many birthdays I cried through, imagining what kind of man my father was?"

Elias didn't argue. He just listened.

"I didn't need a billionaire. I needed a dad."

"I know," he said, tears tracing his jaw. "And that's what hurts the most. I can buy the world, Selene… but not time."

They didn't hug. Not yet. But she sat beside him in the sand. And they stared at the stars in silence.

Liv's Secret

A week later, Liv walked into Elias's tent and shut the door.

"I need to tell you something."

She handed him a scan.

He stared at it—confused. Then his heart thudded.

"You're…"

"Yes. And I was afraid to tell you. Because I didn't want to be another ghost in your memory. I wanted to be real—here, now."

He held the scan like it might shatter.

"I've failed every person I ever loved," he said. "I don't want to fail this one."

"Then don't," she said. "Just stay."

Berlin — Full Circle

Elias stood where it all started. The bridge where he first met Liv in this life. The same jacket. The same scar on his brow.

Liv joined him quietly. "What do you want now?"

He thought about the first time he'd said those words. How back then, he didn't know what he wanted—only what he'd lost.

"I want to forget," he said. "Just for a while. So I can learn to love you without guilt."

She nodded. "Then start here."

She reached for his hand.

And in that moment, time folded without machines. Memory rethreaded without data.

And two broken people remembered how to begin.

Florence — The Woman Who Broke Him

Her name was Mireille.

Once, she had been his world. The woman Elias loved recklessly in his first life — all charm, all fire, all ambition. He gave her his late nights and early mornings, believing love was service, that silence was strength. Mireille took it all and turned it into her empire.

He met her again in Florence.

She was older now, still beautiful, but her eyes had dulled. No empire left. No fire. Only guilt.

"I heard your name on the dark web," she said, sipping her wine with trembling fingers. "Whispers said you came back from the dead."

"In some ways, I did."

She looked at him, and for the first time in decades, her voice broke. "I thought you were a stepping stone. But you were the only good thing I ever had."

He didn't respond. He couldn't.

"I don't want forgiveness. I just wanted to look at the man I broke and see if he still stood."

Elias nodded slowly. "I do. But not for you."

He walked away.

The Decision — Heart or System

A data virus known as 'LOOM' was corrupting Memorykeeper's foundation. It infected the past — rewriting key moments in the restored lives of millions. If left unchecked, it would undo everything.

The only way to stop it? Shut down the eastern server cluster permanently — but doing so would erase Selene's voice archive from when she was a child. Her voice, laughter, songs, and bedtime confessions would be gone.

Liv looked at Elias. "What will you do?"

Selene stood nearby, eyes defiant.

"Don't make this about me. Just do what's right."

Elias hesitated.

Then he turned to Selene. "Close your eyes."

She did.

He played one final clip — her five-year-old self whispering, "You're my hero, Daddy."

Then, with shaking fingers, he shut down the cluster.

Tears streamed down Selene's cheeks.

But she nodded. "You finally chose the world."

"No," Elias whispered. "I chose you. That version of you? She'll always live in me."