CHAPTER 127: LOYAL !!

Star Harbor – Seventeen Years Ago

The port city was alive with noise—ships unloading crates, workers shouting, the smell of saltwater mingled with the heavy stench of fuel. But for one child, that day was the end of innocence.

Luna Whitecliff, just eleven years old, clutched the hem of her dress as she wandered the narrow alleys near the harbor. Her father, Dr. Mason Whitecliff, had promised to take her to the beach after finishing work. But that day, he hadn’t returned home. Instead, word had spread like wildfire: Mason had died in an accident. A fire, they said. A tragic mistake in the lab.

Luna didn’t understand. Her world had collapsed in hours. And before she could grieve, men with harsh eyes and rough hands cornered her in the alley.

"Come quietly," one hissed, the stench of alcohol heavy on his breath.

"No—!" She tried to run, but a hand clamped over her mouth. She kicked, screamed, scratched—but it was useless. The men dragged her into a black van, the door slamming shut on her cries.

When the van doors opened again, the air was different. Thicker. Toxic. She had been brought deep into the industrial belly of Star Harbor—a hidden illegal drug factory, its chimneys spilling smoke, its floors slick with chemical residue.

The factory was a nightmare. The workers were little more than slaves—thin, dirty, their eyes hollow. Some were children not much older than her.

Luna was shoved into a corner, where a cracked bowl of watery soup was placed in front of her.

"Eat," one guard barked.

She lifted the spoon, her hands trembling. The soup was sour, the bits of bread moldy. Her stomach twisted, but she forced it down. It was the only food she would get that day.

Days blurred into weeks.

Luna was forced to scrub vats reeking of chemicals, her small hands raw from acid burns. She carried crates too heavy for her frame, collapsing more than once under their weight. The guards lashed out when she faltered, their boots and fists reminders that weakness had no place here.

At night, she curled on a thin mat in a corner of the barracks, clutching her knees, her stomach gnawing from hunger. The sounds of machines never stopped—neither did the muffled sobs of children around her.

She whispered her father’s name into the darkness, her voice hoarse.

"Papa... come back... please..."

But no one came.

Then, one day—the factory stirred with unusual movement. Workers were ordered to line up, heads bowed. The guards cleaned their uniforms, tension in the air. A visitor was coming.

The sound of polished shoes echoed through the grimy hall. A man walked in, his presence sharp, commanding—so different from the filth surrounding him.

Kyle Sterling.

His suit was immaculate, his expression unreadable as his cold eyes scanned the workers. To the slaves, he was untouchable—someone above their misery. But to the guards, he was the true master of this hidden empire.

As Kyle moved past, his gaze fell on a girl at the end of the line. Small. Frail. Her face dirt-streaked, her body trembling but her eyes—those green eyes—still carried a spark.

He stopped.

"Who is this child?" Kyle asked, his tone calm but cutting.

One of the guards bowed quickly. "She was taken after Mason Whitecliff’s accident, sir. Just another mouth to put to work."

Kyle’s eyes narrowed. Mason’s daughter. He studied her for a long moment.

Luna tried to look away, but his gaze pinned her in place. For the first time in months, someone saw her not as a slave—but as something else.

Kyle turned to the guard.

"Bring her to me."

The guard shoved Luna forward. She stumbled, then froze as Kyle crouched slightly to meet her eye level.

"What’s your name?" he asked, his tone softer than she expected.

Her lips quivered. "L-Luna."

Kyle’s expression softened, though it was an act. He placed a hand on her shoulder, his voice low, almost comforting.

"Not anymore. You don’t belong here. Come with me."

She blinked, stunned. No one had spoken to her like that since her father.

The guards exchanged nervous glances. Taking a child away was unusual. But no one dared question him.

Kyle straightened, his hand still resting on her shoulder as he led her out of the line. "You’ll come with me now. You’ll have food. A roof. Safety. Leave this place behind."

Luna’s heart raced. For months she had known nothing but hunger, pain, and fear. And here was someone reaching into her darkness, pulling her out.

She didn’t see the cold calculation in his eyes—the way he saw her not as a child to save, but as a pawn to keep loyal.

All she felt was relief.

As the heavy doors of the factory closed behind them, Luna looked back one last time at the nightmare she had endured. Then she turned her face upward, toward the man who had taken her hand.

In her young, broken heart, Kyle Sterling became her savior.

...

Present

The silence inside the office felt heavy, like a storm before lightning struck.

"Hold on... what’s going on here?" Silvey’s voice cracked, her confusion cutting through the charged air.

Miles leaned back in his chair, his laughter low, sharp, and unsettling. His gaze flicked from Silvey to the woman sitting beside her.

"Silvey... you got played for a long time. Your best friend Layla? She’s not who you think she is. Her real name is Luna Whitecliff. Daughter of the genius scientist Mason Whitecliff—died seventeen years ago. She’s got a history in Star Harbor. A bloody one."

Silvey stiffened, shaking her head violently. "Don’t talk nonsense! She’s Layla. She studied with me. She’s been my roommate, my friend. And this is her first time in Star Harbor."

Miles’s smirk deepened. "Really?"

He tapped the control on his desk. The large screen behind him flickered to life.

One by one, files appeared—dossiers, surveillance photos, records. Luna’s face stared back at them in different aliases. Reports of flagged movements across ports. Images of her meetings with Kyle Sterling. Her presence in Star Harbor years ago.

Silvey’s eyes widened. Her hands clutched the armrest of her chair as though holding herself upright. "No..." she whispered. "This can’t... this can’t be true."

Miles’s voice cut through her denial like steel.

"Enough proof? She was never in Stanford to study, Silvey. She was planted. By your uncle. To keep an eye on you... and anyone who could threaten his rise."

Silvey’s lips trembled. She turned slowly, her eyes searching for the woman she thought she knew. "Layla... is it true?"

Luna’s head lowered. She didn’t answer. Her silence was louder than any confession.

Inside, her heart twisted. She had rehearsed loyalty to Kyle for years, her obedience drilled into her soul. But Silvey was her only real friend, the one person who had treated her like a sister. That conflict broke her more than the exposure itself.

Miles rose from his chair, his steps measured as he walked toward her. The weight of his presence filled the room.

Luna stood abruptly, her chair scraping back. Her voice cracked, heavy with guilt.

"I’m sorry, Silvey. I... I owed him too much. I couldn’t refuse him."

Silvey’s hands flew to her mouth, tears blurring her vision. "No... Layla..."

Luna’s body tensed as if ready to run, but before she could move further, the door opened.

Sterling Security agents poured in, clad in black tactical suits, movements swift and professional. Their weapons were not raised, but their presence was overwhelming.

"Boss," the lead agent said, "we’ve secured the perimeter."

Luna’s instincts flared. She spun, her hand reaching into her jacket—a sharp knife flashing as she slashed at the first agent who came close.

Chaos erupted.

She moved with trained precision, her combat skills honed for years. A kick sent one agent sprawling, a punch cracked against another’s jaw. For a brief moment, the room was alive with motion—papers flying, furniture shoved aside.

But Sterling Security was relentless. They regrouped, circling her, overwhelming her with numbers. She fought like a cornered wolf, but finally, her arms were pinned, wrists bound behind her back.

Her breaths came ragged, strands of hair falling over her face. Yet her voice was steady, defiant.

"Even if you catch me, you cannot defeat him. Soon the world will bow before him."

Miles stood over her, calm in the midst of the storm. His voice was cold, certain.

"I’m prepared for anything. And when the time comes... I’ll face him myself. Take her to the base."

"Copy that, Boss." The agents tightened their grip, dragging her toward the door.

For one last time, Luna’s eyes lifted toward Silvey. Wet, trembling, full of regret. A thousand unsaid words hung in that single glance.

"Layla..." Silvey whispered, her tears spilling.

But Luna said nothing. She lowered her gaze, letting the agents pull her away.

Diane, her own expression shaken, slipped to Silvey’s side and held her shoulders firmly, grounding her as the office door shut behind the agents.

The silence that followed was deafening.

The heavy silence after Luna’s removal lingered like smoke. Silvey sat frozen, her fingers gripping the armrest of her chair, her expression cracked between betrayal and disbelief.

Miles stood by the desk, his gaze steady but carrying a weight of regret.

"I’m sorry, Silvey. But I cannot allow someone to spy under my roof."

Silvey shook her head slowly, her eyes glistening.

"All these years..." her voice wavered. "Everything she did, every word, every laugh—was it all a lie?"

Her shoulders trembled as she forced herself to continue.

"She was my roommate... my closest friend. We shared meals, secrets, dreams. I trusted her with things I never told anyone else. And now to know... all of it was just a cover?" Her voice cracked further, and she buried her face in her hands. "It’s very hard to believe."

Miles let the silence hold for a moment, then spoke, low but firm.

"She might have cared in her own way, but her loyalty was never yours. It was always to Kyle. That’s the truth, Silvey. I’m sorry."

Silvey drew a shaky breath, lifting her face again, her eyes red.

"What do we do now? Uncle Kyle will definitely be suspicious about her disappearance."

Miles’s tone turned practical, sharp.

"He won’t confront you directly. And we have her phone—we can stall him for a while,until it lasts."

Silvey’s lips pressed thin. "So... are you going to help me now?"

Miles’s eyes hardened.

"I have no interest in ACE as a business. But I won’t let my father’s killer walk free. Even if I have to face the entire ACE empire to bring him down."

Silvey felt a chill run through her bones. His words were not boastful—they were a vow.

She straightened slightly, her voice quieter.

"Next month, there will be a family meeting. All shareholding family members will gather. My grandfather will lead it—and he won’t stop you if you appear. I’ll take care of the details. Join it."

Miles nodded slowly. "Alright. Then it begins there."

A small, relieved smile flickered across her lips. "Thank you, Miles."

But Miles noticed—the sadness in her voice hadn’t faded.

"How many days are you staying in Star Harbor?" he asked gently.

"Two more," she replied. "I have a business dinner tomorrow. I was planning to visit the beach with Layla but..." Her words trailed, pain flashing in her eyes at the name.

A knock came at the door.

"Come in," Miles said.

June entered, "Boss, Chase and his friends are here. I gave them a tour of the office, but now they want to meet you. Should I ask them to wait?"

Miles smiled faintly. "Perfect timing. Send them in."

"Alright, boss." June bowed lightly and stepped out.

Silvey rose slowly, smoothing her dress. "Then I won’t disturb you further. I should leave—"

Miles stopped her with a raised hand and a grin. "Hold on. Where are you going? Tomorrow’s a public holiday—we’re planning to go to the beach. Why don’t you join us?"

Silvey blinked, caught off guard. "But..."

"Come on," Miles said warmly. "You’ll enjoy it."

The door opened again, and Chase burst in with Cole, Isabelle, and Sophia trailing behind.

"Brother!" Chase’s voice rang with youthful excitement. "Your office is so cool!"

Miles chuckled. "Glad you liked it."

Chase grinned wide. "Sis always told me to study hard so I could support you like her. I wasn’t sure before, but after seeing this... I think I might change my mind."

Miles laughed softly. "Follow your dream, Chase. Your brother will support you, whatever path you choose."

Cole clapped Chase on the shoulder. "Let him follow his dream, sure—but can I join here, please?"

Before Miles could answer, Isabelle yanked Cole’s ear, scolding. "Don’t be disrespectful!"

"Ow, ow, ow—" Cole winced, making Sophia giggle.

Miles chuckled again, the atmosphere lightening. "It’s fine. If any of you need something in the future, remember me. My doors will always be open."

"Thanks, brother," Sophia said softly, her eyes bright.

Silvey, standing quietly at the side, looked around the room. The warmth between Miles and the younger ones—the laughter, the comfort—was something she had never truly known in her own family. For the first time in years, she felt a pang of envy... and longing.

Miles glanced over, smiling.

"Oh, yes. Meet Silvey and Diane. They’ll be joining us at the beach tomorrow."

Silvey froze. "But—"

"Hello, Miss Silvey, Miss Diane!" Cole said cheerfully, his energy breaking the hesitation.

All eyes turned toward them expectantly.

Caught between refusal and the warmth of the moment, Silvey could only nod awkwardly.

Miles laughed, the tension melting once more.