CHAPTER 124: IF ONLY I HAD THE STRENGTH!!!

The phone buzzed sharply in the woman’s hand, the name Clive Fisher flashing across the screen. Her painted nails trembled for the first time that evening. She forced a smile onto her face, lifting the phone to her ear.

"Hello, dear," she said sweetly, loud enough for the crowd to hear. "There are people here... bullying me—"

The crowd erupted in whispers.

"How shameless..."

"Look at her acting."

"She was the one at fault."

But before she could spin more lies, Clive’s voice exploded through the speaker, loud enough that everyone nearby could hear.

"ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?!"

The crowd stilled.

Clive’s words poured like fire.

"Do you know WHO you are trying to make trouble for? Nobody—nobody—dares mess with Sterling Enterprises in this city. And you? You want to drag the Fisher family name into the dirt over your childish behavior? Do you want to bring us onto the road with your stupidity?"

The woman’s face drained of color, her lips trembling.

Clive’s fury continued, relentlessly.

"I’ve ignored your little tantrums for years, but this time you’ve crossed the line. Mr. Sterling personally called me. Do you understand what that means? One word from him, and every deal, every share I hold in this city will collapse overnight. Do you want me to lose everything?!"

She tried to stammer a reply, but Clive cut her off again.

"Enough! Apologize to him. Apologize to ALL of them right now. Then come back home immediately—or I swear, your unnecessary allowance is gone. Zero. Not a single coin for your parties, your dresses, or your cars. Do you hear me?!"

The crowd erupted again, whispers now edged with amusement and satisfaction.

"She’s trembling..."

"Her husband is tearing her apart!"

"Serves her right."

The woman lowered her phone slowly, her hands shaking. Her earlier arrogance shattered, replaced by humiliation that burned her cheeks.

She turned toward Chase and his friends, bowing her head.

"I... I am sorry," she said, voice breaking. "I caused you trouble. Please forgive me."

Her eyes darted nervously toward Miles, who stood calm, watching her with that unshakable presence.

Miles’s voice was level, yet it carried like steel.

"Mrs. Fisher. I hope you won’t do something like this again—something that damages not only your image, but your family’s name in public."

She bowed her head lower, murmured another apology, then hurried to her car. The expensive sedan roared to life, tail light still shattered, and sped away into the night.

The crowd slowly dispersed, laughter and commentary rippling as they left. For them, it had been an unexpected evening show—one they’d gossip about for days.

Only the group remained.

Chase’s eyes sparkled with awe. "Brother... you were awesome! How did you do that?"

Miles shrugged lightly, brushing invisible dust from his sleeve. "I just happened to know her husband."

Cole let out a whistle. "That was quite a show. She was making a scene for no reason, and you crushed it with a phone call."

Isabelle crossed her arms, still fuming. "That lady was too much. Is this how grown-ups behave? Throwing tantrums on the road, lying to the crowd..."

Sophia chuckled softly, shaking her head. "If that’s really growing up, I think we’ll stick with college life for now."

Miles’s expression softened as he looked at them one by one.

"It’s fine. You’re all safe. That’s all that matters."

He gestured toward the curb where his own car was parked.

"Come. We’ll take my car. Someone from Sterling Security will pick up yours in a few minutes and handle the repairs."

Relief settled over the group as they followed him. The sleek black vehicle waited like a sentinel under the streetlamps. Chase slipped into the passenger seat again while the others piled into the back, still buzzing with excitement.

The engine purred, smooth and controlled, as Miles steered the car back toward the heart of the city.

And as the crowd’s whispers faded behind them, the road ahead led toward the warm glow of The Atelier

...

The night air was alive with fire.

The forest around the Graveyard base burned red, shadows thrashing across the trees as explosions lit the darkness. The crack of rifles split the air, mingling with the screams of men. Smoke choked the sky, and the earth trembled beneath the relentless assault.

Through the chaos, a group of children were herded toward the underground shelters—faces pale, clothes streaked with ash, their small legs stumbling in the mud. Among them was a boy of ten, eyes wide with fear yet unblinking, as though already learning to swallow terror.

"Go! Keep moving!"

The command came from a woman. Her presence cut through the night like a blade. She wore combat gear, her hair tied back, twin pistols holstered at her thighs, a combat knife strapped across her chest. The grime on her face couldn’t hide the fierce light in her eyes.

She wasn’t just any soldier—she was their guardian, their protector. And for the boy called Kai, she was something more.

She had always cared for him, checked his rations twice, made sure he ate first. He was the youngest in the unit, and though she never said it aloud, everyone knew—Kai was her favorite as she gave him the name.

Now, with death clawing at the gates, she shielded him with her body as she ushered the children into the shelter.

Gunfire rained down. She turned sharply, firing three shots into the treeline. A man fell. Another rushed in—her knife flashed once, then silence.

"Kai!" she shouted, grabbing his arm and shoving him toward the reinforced hatch. "Inside! Go, now!"

The boy shook his head, trembling. "No! You come too!"

Her expression softened for a heartbeat, even as her hands reloaded with mechanical precision. "I will. I promise. But you must go first."

More intruders broke through the flames, rifles raised. She moved like lightning—two shots, a blade thrown, a kick that sent one crashing into the dirt. Blood soaked the ground, but she never stopped moving, never faltered.

The other children slipped inside, the hatch sealing with a heavy clang. But Kai was still outside, pressed against the steel, tears streaking through the soot on his face.

"Move, Kai!" she barked, her voice sharp with command yet trembling with urgency.

He shook his head violently, clinging to the doorframe. "I won’t leave without you!"

Her eyes softened again. For an instant, the battlefield around them blurred, and there was only the bond between them—a boy clinging to his protector, and a woman who had already decided her fate.

She dashed forward, shoving him back into the final gap of the hatch as bullets cracked overhead. Her knife spun from her hand, embedding into the throat of the nearest intruder. She pulled the boy tight for a single, desperate embrace.

"You’re strong, Kai. Stronger than you know. Live."

She slammed the hatch shut, locking it from outside. His small fists pounded against the metal, his muffled cries lost in the roar of the fire.

Through the narrow slit, he saw her turn—her back to him, her guns raised, her figure outlined against the inferno. She fought like a storm, tearing through wave after wave of enemies, each movement precise, lethal, and desperate.

But even storms end.

A spray of bullets cut through the smoke. She stumbled, yet still turned her body to shield the hatch. Her knives gleamed one final time as she carved down another attacker.

Then—silence.

She fell to her knees, blood staining the earth, her eyes finding the slit in the hatch where Kai watched with shaking hands and a breaking heart.

Her lips curved into a faint smile, not of defeat, but of pride.

And then... she was gone.

Miles jolted awake, breath ragged, sweat cold against his skin. The dark ceiling of his room loomed above him, the hum of Star Harbor’s distant city lights seeping faintly through the curtains.

His hand clenched the sheets, chest heaving. For a moment, the sound of gunfire and her voice still echoed in his ears.

Only then did he realize—it had been a dream. A memory twisted by sleep.

But to him, it was as real as the scars he carried.

Kai. Ghost. Miles.

No matter the name... the weight of her sacrifice remained.

It was well past midnight.

The villa was wrapped in silence, only the soft hum of the sea breeze slipping through the maple trees outside. Miles rose from his bed, his skin still damp from the sweat of his dream. Restlessness pushed him forward, and he stepped quietly onto the balcony.

The night sky stretched wide above him, scattered stars glowing faintly through the haze of the city’s lights. He rested his arms on the railing, letting the cool wind wash over him.

Then, movement caught his eye.

To his left, on the neighboring balcony, stood Chase. The boy leaned against the rail, his head tilted slightly, watching Miles with tired but bright eyes.

Miles arched a brow, faint surprise touching his expression.

"Can’t sleep?"

Chase gave a small, sheepish smile. "Not really." His voice softened, almost hesitant. "Brother... I’m feeling really happy here. It feels like family. Like... a home."

Miles stayed silent, waiting.

Chase’s voice trembled just a little as he continued. "But... I miss my dad. I really miss him."

The night air grew heavier between them. Miles studied Chase quietly—the way his shoulders hunched, the way his gaze flickered to the ground as if ashamed of showing weakness. For a moment, Miles saw his younger self reflected in that posture, the weight of longing pressing too deeply for words.

He leaned a little closer to the railing, his tone calm but warm.

"It’s natural. Missing him doesn’t make you weak, Chase. It means he mattered to you."

Chase blinked, swallowing hard. "Sometimes I think... Maybe I should’ve been stronger back then. Maybe—"

"Stop," Miles interrupted gently, his voice firm but not harsh. "You were just a kid. Carrying that kind of burden isn’t your role. And your dad... I’m sure he wouldn’t want you blaming yourself. He’d want you to live. To enjoy moments like this."

Chase looked up, meeting his cousin’s steady gaze.

Miles allowed a faint smile. "Besides, you’ve got people here now. Family. That’s something even he would’ve wanted for you."

Silence lingered, but this time it was softer. The boy’s eyes glistened faintly, though he tried to hide it with a grin. "You always know what to say, Brother."

Miles chuckled quietly, shaking his head. "Not always. Sometimes I just say whatever comes out, and it happens to make sense."

Chase laughed, the tension breaking at last. "Well, it works. You sound wise, but also like... an old man."

Miles arched a brow with mock offense. "Old man? Do I look like I’m forty to you?"

Chase smirked. "Maybe forty-five."

Miles huffed, shaking his head as a rare laugh escaped him. The two leaned on their balconies, the distance between them bridged by quiet laughter under the stars.

The heaviness of a moment ago had eased, replaced with warmth.

"Get some rest, Chase," Miles said at last, his voice softer now. "Big day tomorrow."

"Alright, Brother. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

The villa fell back into silence as both cousins stepped inside their rooms. The night carried on, the stars above bearing witness thier wish "If only I had the strength"