Elias Crane didn't belong.
Not in the city's rusting industrial zone where he spent his days tightening bolts and fixing leaky pipes in a weathered hardware shop. Not in the crumbling walk-up apartment above a cramped café that always smelled like burnt espresso. And certainly not in the pristine halls of the Linwood estate—a world of polished marble, antique chandeliers, and people who spoke softly only to sharpen their insults.
To the world outside, Elias was forgettable. Quiet. Reserved. Just a man trying to make ends meet. But to the Linwood family, he was something worse.
He was an embarrassment.
Sera's family still hadn't accepted her sudden marriage to him—especially since it had been arranged, of all things, by her grandfather, Harold Linwood, shortly before the old man passed. They hadn't even tried to hide their disapproval. Her father, Victor, never spoke directly to Elias if he could help it. Her mother, Lillian, smiled at him like he was a child visiting from a broken home, and the rest of the Linwood clan—Aunt Miriam, Uncle Devon, and their spoiled children—took turns finding new ways to mock him. Always subtle. Always in earshot.
"You know, he reminds me of those stray dogs grandpa used to feed," Aunt Miriam once whispered over wine. "So loyal. So… simple."
But Elias never rose to their bait. He'd learned long ago that silence could cut deeper than any insult. And the more they dismissed him, the more he watched. The more he listened.
Only Sera remained something of a mystery.
At first, she'd been cold. Confused by her grandfather's sudden arrangement, she kept her distance and questioned everything about Elias. His background. His intentions. His silence. She wasn't cruel—not like the others—but she kept a wall up between them, guarded and cautious.
Elias hadn't pushed. Instead, he showed up for her in quiet ways. He cooked when she came home late. Listened when her voice trembled after difficult meetings. Stepped between her and her father when Victor's anger crossed a line. He expected nothing in return. And slowly, almost against her will, Sera began to see him—not as a burden, but as a presence. A protector.
Still, the rest of the Linwoods continued their parade of superiority. They assumed he was clinging to their wealth. That he'd married Sera for status or comfort. That he was a manipulator, a nobody dressed in borrowed privilege.
But none of them knew what Harold had known.
That Elias Crane was not a nobody.
Not truly.
The truth lay buried beneath years of ashes and silence—a name passed down from a line thought long dead. A bloodline once feared, once revered. One that had been hunted, scattered, erased.
The Cranes.
Elias had been raised with whispers, warnings, and dreams he didn't understand. He'd never known his parents—only that they'd died in a fire no one spoke of. The system labeled him an orphan. But Harold Linwood had known better. He'd traced the line. Found the name. And when he looked into Elias's silver-flecked eyes that day, he saw it.
He arranged the marriage not out of love, but legacy. Elias hadn't questioned it. He'd made a promise, and promises, to him, meant everything.
That promise was about to be tested.
It happened late one rainy evening, as Elias was locking up the hardware store. The streets glistened under the amber glow of flickering lamps. Just as he turned the key in the back entrance, a figure stepped out from the alley—tall, dressed in a black coat, his hands in his pockets.
"Elias Crane?" the man asked.
Elias turned slowly. "Who's asking?"
The man stepped closer and held up a badge. Government-issued. But not police. No department name.
"We need to talk," the man said.
"About what?"
"About your family," he said. "And a breach tied to your blood."
Before Elias could respond, the man reached into his coat and pulled out an envelope. Heavy. Sealed in dark crimson wax.
The symbol carved into it hit Elias like a thunderclap.
A crescent moon. Wrapped in flame.
Something stirred in his chest. Something old.
He took the envelope, his hands steady.
The quiet life was over.