Chapter 10 Ghosts Beneath the Dust
Luka
The kiss should have complicated everything.
Instead, it made things simpler.
Not easier.
Definitely not easier.
But simpler.
For weeks, Viktor had wasted energy pretending something wasn't happening. He had argued with himself. Avoided conversations. Created distance whenever Elias got too close.
Now there was no point.
The truth existed between them.
Neither could deny it anymore.
That realization followed Viktor throughout the next day.
The construction camp slowly recovered from the storm. Crews repaired damaged structures. Engineers inspected equipment. Supervisors rushed to get projects back on schedule.
Life moved forward.
It always did.
Even when people weren't ready.
Especially then.
Around noon, Viktor found himself standing near one of the partially completed buildings reviewing repair priorities.
He sensed Elias before he saw him.
The younger man had become surprisingly easy to recognize.
Not because of his appearance.
Because Viktor paid attention.
A dangerous habit.
One he wasn't interested in breaking.
Elias approached carrying a notebook beneath one arm.
For a brief moment, their eyes met.
Neither smiled.
Not openly.
That would attract attention.
Yet something passed between them anyway.
A quiet awareness.
Private.
The kind that didn't need words.
"You busy?"
Viktor glanced toward the clipboard in his hands.
"Always."
"Helpful answer."
A familiar response.
A familiar tone.
The easy conversation settled naturally between them.
The realization felt strangely comforting.
Elias leaned against a nearby stack of materials.
"What are you doing later?"
The question sounded casual.
It wasn't.
Nothing felt casual anymore.
Viktor knew exactly what the younger man was asking.
And exactly why his pulse immediately sped up.
"Depends."
"On?"
"Whether you're causing trouble."
Elias looked offended.
A performance.
A terrible one.
"I never cause trouble."
Viktor laughed.
Actually laughed.
The sound surprised both of them.
"You're currently investigating half the camp."
"That's research."
"That's trouble."
The younger man grinned.
For a moment, everything felt light.
Easy.
Then Viktor noticed something.
A slight hesitation.
A question lingering behind Elias's eyes.
The younger man wanted to ask something.
Something important.
Viktor recognized the look immediately.
He had seen it before.
The night of the memorial tattoo.
The night beneath the stars.
The night he admitted he couldn't remember Luka's voice.
The realization settled heavily inside him.
Sooner or later, this conversation had to happen.
Maybe today.
Maybe now.
The thought should have made him uncomfortable.
Instead, he felt tired.
Tired of carrying the same grief alone.
Tired of protecting memories until they became prisons.
Tired of pretending the past wasn't still shaping his future.
"Walk with me."
Elias blinked.
The invitation clearly surprised him.
Then he nodded.
Together, they headed toward the far edge of the construction site.
Away from workers.
Away from supervisors.
Away from curious eyes.
The unfinished structures gradually disappeared behind them.
Eventually they reached a section of land overlooking the valley beyond the project.
The view stretched for miles.
Normally, Viktor appreciated the solitude.
Today it felt necessary.
Neither spoke immediately.
The wind moved through the grass.
Cloud shadows drifted across distant hills.
The silence remained comfortable.
Until Viktor broke it.
"My brother's name was Luka."
The words landed softly between them.
Elias turned toward him.
Said nothing.
Just listened.
Exactly what Viktor needed.
"Luka Novak."
A faint smile touched his mouth.
Brief.
Fragile.
"He was six years younger than me."
The memories arrived immediately.
Not invited.
Never invited.
Yet always waiting.
"He talked too much."
The smile deepened slightly.
"He argued with everyone."
Another memory.
A younger boy following him through crowded streets.
Asking endless questions.
Refusing to leave him alone.
"He thought I could fix everything."
Viktor looked toward the horizon.
The view blurred briefly.
Not from tears.
Just memory.
"He was wrong."
The words came out rough.
Elias remained silent.
Patient.
The younger man seemed to understand that interruptions weren't necessary.
Viktor appreciated that.
More than he could explain.
"When our parents died, it was just us."
The admission felt strangely intimate.
He rarely discussed family.
Rarely discussed anything personal.
Yet the words continued coming.
"Luka was sixteen."
The wind picked up slightly.
Grass swayed around them.
The construction site seemed very far away.
"I spent years trying to keep him safe."
A humorless laugh escaped him.
"Turns out I wasn't very good at it."
Elias immediately shook his head.
The reaction was instinctive.
Protective.
Viktor noticed.
Ignored it.
The guilt remained too familiar.
Too deeply rooted.
"He wanted a better life."
The older man's gaze drifted toward the camp below.
Toward the workers.
The trailers.
The temporary homes.
Everything.
"He followed construction work because it paid more."
Another memory surfaced.
Luka smiling.
Excited.
Optimistic.
Young enough to believe hard work guaranteed success.
Young enough to believe companies cared about workers.
Young enough to trust promises.
The memory hurt.
It always did.
"He got a job on a major project."
Elias listened carefully.
Something about his expression changed.
Subtle.
Concern.
Attention.
The shift barely registered.
Viktor continued.
"He called me every week."
His voice softened.
"He loved it at first."
The smile disappeared.
"He said the company was huge."
A pause.
Long.
Painful.
"He said there were opportunities everywhere."
The wind suddenly felt colder.
The familiar ache opened inside Viktor's chest.
Because now the story reached the part he hated.
The part he replayed endlessly.
The part that never changed.
"Then things started going wrong."
Elias straightened slightly.
The movement caught Viktor's attention.
Barely.
"There were complaints."
His jaw tightened.
"Safety issues."
Another pause.
"He reported them."
The words tasted bitter.
"Luka always believed somebody would listen."
Silence.
Heavy.
Relentless.
"He kept filing reports."
Viktor swallowed.
The memory remained sharp despite the years.
Too sharp.
"He thought if enough people spoke up, things would change."
Elias wasn't moving anymore.
Wasn't breathing normally either.
The younger man's attention had become absolute.
Focused.
Intense.
Yet Viktor barely noticed.
His own memories consumed him.
"One morning there was an accident."
The words came quietly.
Almost flat.
Years of repetition had stripped emotion from the sentence.
Not the pain.
Just the expression of it.
"A support structure failed."
The horizon blurred again.
"He was underneath it."
Silence followed.
The kind that existed after explosions.
After funerals.
After loss.
The kind that changed people.
"He died before the ambulance arrived."
The statement remained simple.
Because complicated language couldn't improve it.
Couldn't soften it.
Couldn't change reality.
Luka was gone.
Had been gone for years.
Yet some wounds never learned how to heal.
For several moments, neither spoke.
The wind carried sounds from the distant construction site.
Life continuing.
As always.
Then Elias asked the question.
Quietly.
Carefully.
"What company?"
Viktor looked away.
Toward the camp below.
Toward the buildings.
Toward everything he had spent years trying not to think about.
When he answered, his voice sounded colder than before.
"Hart Industries."
The silence that followed felt different.
Immediate.
Sharp.
Viktor noticed it at once.
He turned.
And saw the color drain from Elias's face.
The younger man's eyes widened.
Shock.
Recognition.
Horror.
The reaction hit Viktor like a physical blow.
Because suddenly he understood something.
And judging by the expression on Elias's face, so did he.
The company responsible for Luka's death.
The company whose reports Elias had been investigating.
The company that had ignored warnings.
Ignored complaints.
Ignored workers.
Wasn't just any company.
It was Hart Industries.
Elias's company.
His father's company.
The Hart Name
The silence stretched endlessly between them.
For several seconds after speaking the name, Viktor simply watched Elias.
At first, he assumed the younger man was reacting to the tragedy.
Most people did.
The story wasn't easy to hear.
A young worker.
Ignored warnings.
A preventable death.
The kind of loss that stayed with people.
Yet something about Elias's expression felt different.
Too intense.
Too personal.
The color had completely drained from his face.
His eyes remained fixed on Viktor, but it looked as though he wasn't really seeing him anymore.
As though his thoughts had suddenly gone somewhere else.
Somewhere dark.
Somewhere dangerous.
A familiar feeling settled in Viktor's stomach.
Unease.
"What?"
The question came automatically.
Elias blinked.
Once.
Twice.
Then looked away.
Immediately.
The reaction bothered Viktor.
People looked away when they were hiding something.
He knew that from experience.
The younger man swallowed.
His throat worked visibly.
Nothing about his body language looked normal anymore.
"It's complicated."
The answer made Viktor frown.
Complicated.
That wasn't an explanation.
That wasn't even close.
The wind moved through the grass around them.
Neither seemed to notice.
Viktor studied him carefully.
Every instinct he possessed suddenly felt alert.
Waiting.
Watching.
Something was wrong.
Very wrong.
"Elias."
The younger man's eyes lifted briefly.
Then dropped again.
The movement alone told Viktor everything.
Whatever was happening inside his head, it wasn't good.
A knot formed in Viktor's chest.
Slow.
Unwelcome.
"Tell me."
The words came quietly.
Not a demand.
Not yet.
A request.
Elias looked miserable.
Genuinely miserable.
The sight immediately stirred concern.
Then confusion.
Then frustration.
Because Viktor didn't understand.
The younger man had spent weeks demanding honesty from everyone around him.