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Now reading: Chapter 122: Attacked! from The General's Daughter: The Mission, a Romance novel by AzaleaBelrose.

His gaze dropped to the peach in her hand... then slowly lifted to her mouth... then to her eyes.

"Careful," he said quietly. "That one isn’t fully ripe."

His hand ca up — not touching her, not quite — hovering just long enough to guide her wrist slightly to the side, as if adjusting the angle.

The brush of his knuckles against her skin was barely there, yet it still felt like full contact.

"Try that one instead," he murmured, reaching past her shoulder to pluck another fruit from the branch above.

The movent caged her in for a heartbeat — his arm braced beside her head, his body blocking the light, the scent of him suddenly everywhere.

Then he stepped back and placed the peach in her palm.

Warm from the sun.

Unlike his hand.

"Why?" Lara asked softly.

His eyes narrowed. "Why what?"

"Why did you really bring here?"

The orchard fell silent, as if it was holding its breath, even the birds were listening.

For a long mont, Ares said nothing.

Then he took a step closer again — not enough to trap her, just enough to make retreat feel like surrender.

"Because," he said quietly, "no one cos here unless I bring them. Except Shay and my imdiate family."

It wasn’t a boast but a warning.

Or a confession.

His gaze dropped briefly to her hand, to the fruit he had given her, before lifting back to her face — darker now, sothing unguarded flickering deep beneath the surface.

"And I don’t share what’s mine."

The words landed softly.

But they hit like a blade sliding between ribs.

’I didn’t know Ares is this possessive? What’s with these trees? They are just trees.’ Lara thought.

Sowhere beyond the trees, a branch snapped — distant, indistinct, but loud enough to shatter the fragile stillness.

Ares’s head turned instantly, every line of his body sharpening.

Predatory. Alert. Dangerous.

Not a man in an orchard but a weapon that had just sensed a threat.

When he looked back at Lara, the softness — if it had ever truly been there — was gone.

"Stay here," he said, voice low and absolute.

Then he moved. He did not run, but he just vanished between the trees with the silent speed of sothing that knew exactly how to hunt.

But Lara wasn’t the type who just stayed behind. She felt that the orchard seed less peaceful than it had a mont ago.

She moved.

Not recklessly. Not noisily. Instinct took over — the quiet, efficient kind that didn’t belong to an ordinary woman strolling through an orchard. She slipped between the trees, placing each step where the ground was bare, avoiding dry leaves, avoiding twigs.

She followed the path Ares had cut through the grove.

The deeper she went, the colder the air felt. The birds had gone silent. Even the wind seed to hold its breath.

Voices carried ahead.

Low. Male. Dangerous.

She slowed, concealing herself behind the thick trunk of a Narra tree, then edged just enough to see.

Ares stood in a small clearing between the rows.

Facing him was a man dressed in dark civilian clothes — not a worker, not security, not anyone who belonged on a private estate. His posture scread trained. Balanced on the balls of his feet. Hands empty but ready.

Blood darkened one sleeve.

So Ares hadn’t just found him.

He had stopped him.

"Why are you here? Who sent you?" Ares asked.

No hint of anger in his voice. Just lethal certainty.

The intruder gave a humorless smile. "Nice welco. You won’t get answers to your questions."

Ares took one slow step forward.

The man didn’t retreat — but tension flashed through his shoulders, the micro-flinch of soone who knew exactly what kind of predator stood in front of him.

"You crossed three periter lines," Ares continued. "Disabled two caras."

A beat.

"You ca prepared."

Lara’s stomach tightened. This wasn’t random. This was infiltration.

The intruder tilted his head. "You’re slipping. I expected more resistance."

Ares’ punch landed on his chest.

The man’s smile vanished.

For the first ti, uncertainty flickered across his face.

Behind her tree, Lara’s pulse thundered — not from fear, but from the unmistakable shift in Ares’s presence.

He didn’t seem like the CEO anymore.

He felt like sothing sharpened for violence.

"Who sent you?" Ares asked a second ti.

Silence answered him.

Then the intruder chuckled softly. "You already know."

Ares’s eyes darkened — not with surprise, not confusion, but with confirmation.

"Your family should have been buried," the man added.

The temperature in the clearing seed to drop ten degrees.

Ares moved. Not a warning step.

Not a cautious advance.

A blink — and suddenly he was there, beside the man.

His hand closed around the intruder’s throat with terrifying precision, slamming him back against a tree hard enough to shake loose a rain of leaves.

Lara nearly gasped — barely stopping the sound in ti.

The man clawed at Ares’s wrist, boots digging into the dirt as his feet left the ground.

Ares didn’t strain.

Didn’t even breathe harder.

"You ca to my territory," he said quietly, lifting him higher. "Wanting to hurt my people."

His voice lowered further, almost gentle.

"You are blocking his path."

The intruder’s eyes widened — not from pain.

From realization.

At any mont, he could die.

"Soon, you will go down. Your entire family would go ..."

Ares tightened his grip. The rest of the sentence cut off in a choking sound.

Behind the tree, Lara watched calmly, and it unsettled her.

She had seen such scenes before, yet why was she uncomfortable?

Before she could process it, the intruder’s gaze shifted past Ares — straight toward her hiding place.

And sharpened.

A slow, ugly smile crawled across his face despite the hand crushing his throat.

"Well," he wheezed. "Looks like you brought company."

Ares went utterly still.

For one lethal heartbeat, he didn’t turn.

Then he did. Slowly.

His eyes found Lara.

There was no surprise in them, nor fear. Only a flash of sothing dark — anger, yes... but underneath it, sothing far more dangerous.

Fear. Not for himself but for her.

"Run," Ares said.

The word cracked through the clearing like a gunshot.

Too late.

The intruder moved with desperate speed, one hand dropping to his belt — not for a weapon aid at Ares...

...but for sothing small and tallic already in his palm.

He hurled it past Ares straight toward Lara.

Ares’s expression changed in a way she would never forget.

It wasn’t from rage or from calculation.

It was a raw alarm.

"GET DOWN!" The echo of his shout ricocheted through the orchard.

The device hit the ground at her feet with a dull clink.

For one frozen fraction of a second, Lara stared at the tiny blinking light—

—and then the world exploded into white.

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