After dropping Celina at her office, Miles turned the wheel toward Cinder Square. Morning traffic flowed smoothly, the city already alive with purpose, unaware of the silent currents moving beneath its surface. Sterling Enterprises rose ahead of him, glass and steel reflecting the pale sky, calm on the outside, decisive within.
As Miles stepped out of the car, he spotted a familiar figure heading toward the entrance.
"Dion."
Dion turned, surprised for a brief second before smiling. "Good morning Miles. You are late today."
"I got caught up in sothing on the way."
They fell into step together, walking toward the private elevator. The hum of the building surrounded them, polished floors and quiet efficiency.
"The shipnt you asked about is ready to deliver," Dion said casually.
Miles nodded. "Great. Thanks for the hard work."
Dion chuckled softly. "You talk like a boss."
Miles glanced sideways, amused. "Am I not your boss?"
"Yes yes, you are my boss," Dion replied, lifting both hands in surrender. "Also my brother. And it is still hard to believe we are doing corporate work after our past life."
Miles exhaled slowly, eyes forward. "I wish I could say the sa."
Dion studied him for a mont, then spoke more carefully. "I know you do not tell things because of Flora. But if you ever need help, I will do it."
Miles paused before responding. "Woah. Flora will kill . And it is nothing that is concerning."
Dion sighed, knowing that was the end of it.
The elevator doors slid open at Dion's floor.
"Have a good day, boss," Dion said, stepping out.
"You too," Miles replied.
The doors closed and the elevator continued upward, silent, smooth, isolated.
When it opened again at the top floor, Miles stepped into his office.
Or what appeared to be his office.
The blue light was on. Curtains drawn tight. The air felt heavier. Large screens covered the far wall, glowing with live feeds. June sat at the center, headphones on, fingers moving quickly, eyes sharp and focused.
Sterling Security agents filled the screens. Charles in one fra. Monica in another. Tactical maps. Status feeds. Tilines.
It was no longer an office.
It was a war room.
"You good?" Miles asked calmly.
June muted her mic and turned toward him, excitent barely contained. "This is so cool boss. I have never seen a live war room."
Miles smiled faintly. "How was it?"
"Perfect. Exactly as planned."
Miles picked up a headset and put it on.
"Morning boss," Monica's voice ca through.
"How did it go? Any casualties."
"Everything is perfect. No casualties. Not a single scratch. No evidence remains. I will write a report for you to submit to the authorities."
Miles nodded slowly. "Rember it was a covert mission. Approved by the governnt but not on paper. If there is evidence, no official body will take responsibility."
Charles leaned closer to his cara. "Do not worry boss. Everything was carried out carefully. We are double analysing for evidence."
"Even if they find a single thing, I will take care of it," Miles replied evenly. "Also the shipnt is dispatched. Coordinate with the people once it is received."
"Leave it to ," Monica said without hesitation.
Miles leaned back slightly, eyes moving across the screens. "Well. It is ti to wrap up then. Have a good day everyone. Those who were awake all night can take a day off."
There was a pause, then quiet acknowledgnts.
"When things calm down, bring our operatives back," Miles added.
"We have already scheduled a plan for that," Charles replied.
"Great. See you all."
One by one, the screens went dark.
The blue light dimd. The hum of tension faded.
June removed her headphones.
Miles walked to the window and pressed a button. The curtains rose slowly, sunlight flooding the room. The polished desk reappeared. The screens folded away. The war room dissolved, replaced once more by a corporate office overlooking the city.
June stretched slightly. "That was unreal."
Miles looked out over Star Harbor, calm, bright, ordinary. "I hope you don't have to get used to it."
The city below moved on, unaware that another silent battle had already ended.
….
Silverline City lay quiet under the afternoon sun, its streets moving with routine calm, unaware of the thoughts colliding behind closed doors.
Basil stood near the window, phone pressed to his ear, his gaze fixed on the distant skyline.
"Not even the local authorities found anything yet."
Elias's voice crackled through the line, tense despite its controlled tone. "Could it be him?"
Basil exhaled slowly. "Who Miles? I do not think so. He is immature in his own way. He wants to go to war head on. What happened was too clean, too coordinated."
A pause followed, heavier than the words before it.
"What if it was Timothy," Elias said quietly. "What if he is back."
Basil's fingers tightened around the phone. "Give so ti. Let send people to find out if those involved were from Haven. Do not forget we still have to prepare for the Sylven Forest."
"I am leaving it to you then," Elias replied. "I am alerting the rest."
The call ended.
Basil lowered the phone, staring at the blank screen for a long mont.
"Is it really you Miles," he murmured to himself. "What are you even planning."
A soft voice ca from behind him. "Master you called."
Basil turned slightly. "Yes. Book a flight to Star Harbor. It is ti I et him personally."
The man bowed his head. "Alright Master."
As footsteps faded away, Basil remained still, his thoughts tangled between past regret and an approaching inevitability.
Flashback Sylven Forest Tribe
The air inside the hut was calm, scented with herbs and burning resin. Young Ghost sat quietly as a few calm won moved around him with practiced care. Their hands were gentle, deliberate. Silk cloth was wrapped around his shoulders, smooth and light, unlike anything he had worn before. A warm red ink was pressed carefully against his forehead, forming the shape of a half moon.
He did not resist, but his eyes followed every movent.
The entrance curtain shifted.
Zela stepped inside.
"You look good Prince."
Ghost turned his head slightly. "Chief Zela. What is the occasion."
Zela smiled, a quiet pride in her eyes. "Prince it is our annual festival. We are going to pray to the tree."
She paused, then stepped closer.
"And it is also ti you receive sothing that belongs to you."
Ghost's brows furrowed faintly. "Belongs to ."
Zela nodded. "You have healed. You have watched us. You have walked our land. The forest has accepted you."
She gestured toward the doorway. "Co. The elders are waiting."
Ghost stood slowly, silk settling against his skin. As he stepped outside, the forest greeted him with soft wind and distant drums. Torches lined the path, their flas flickering like quiet witnesses. The tribe gathered in respectful silence, eyes filled with reverence and expectation.
At the center, beyond the stone walls, the ancient tree rose into the sky, vast and unmoving, its presence heavier than stone, older than mory.
Ghost felt it then.
Not fear.
Not confusion.
But the unsettling pull of sothing unfinished.
Sothing waiting.
….
Evening lights wrapped Star Harbor in a soft glow as Miles drove toward Star Central Mall. Traffic flowed calmly, reflections of neon signs gliding over his windshield. His cracked phone lay on the passenger seat, its fractured screen catching the light like a reminder of unfinished errands and Elena's constant insistence.
He sighed softly.
"Alright mom. I am buying one."
The mall gates opened smoothly as his car approached. Security personnel straightened instantly, recognition flashing in their eyes.
"Good evening sir."
Miles nodded lightly and parked. He stepped out, adjusted his jacket, and walked inside. The air was cool, filled with the faint scent of polished floors and distant coffee. Without wasting ti, he headed straight to the upper floor where the electronics showroom stood bright and inviting.
The mont he entered, a familiar voice greeted him.
"Good evening boss."
Miles smiled politely.
"Good evening."
Before he could take another step, a woman in her forties approached him briskly. She carried herself with professional confidence, sharp eyes and a welcoming smile.
"Greetings Mr. Sterling. How can I help you."
Miles gestured lightly.
"It is nothing administrative really. I just want to buy a phone."
Her smile widened.
"Please have a seat sir. Lisa will bring you so options to choose from."
Miles glanced at the plush seating area.
"Is the VIP treatnt necessary really."
She chuckled softly.
"It is not store policy. But it is not every day the owner of the mall walks into my showroom. I would hate to seem disrespectful."
Miles raised both hands slightly in surrender.
"Then I will accept your hospitality."
She turned toward the staff.
"Miss Lisa. Bring phones for Mr. Sterling."
"Alright ma'am."
Miles sat down on the couch, leaning back comfortably. Monts later, Lisa approached with a tray of devices, her enthusiasm barely contained. She began explaining each model carefully, from display quality to cara optimization, battery cycles, processing speed, security layers, even the subtle design philosophy behind each brand.
Miles listened quietly, nodding from ti to ti. He was not particularly obsessed with smartphones, but the way Lisa explained each detail made it strangely engaging. He asked a few thoughtful questions, surprising her with how attentively he followed every point.
After a while, he picked one up, turned it in his hand, tested the feel, the weight, the responsiveness.
"This one," he said calmly.
Lisa's eyes lit up.
"Great choice boss. It is trending among young people."
Miles smiled faintly.
"Then mom will definitely like my choice."
Lisa laughed softly.
"I will pack it for you."
Within minutes, the purchase was complete. Miles walked out carrying a small store bag, the mall lights reflecting off the polished floor beneath his feet. He headed toward the exit, mind already drifting back to unfinished plans and quiet thoughts.
"Excuse ."
A girl's voice ca from behind him.
Miles stopped and turned.
"Yes."
He saw a young woman standing a few steps away, her expression hesitant yet determined, eyes fixed on him as if she had gathered courage just for this mont.
The air between them felt oddly suspended.
To be continued.
User Comments
0 comments from readers