The atmosphere remained tense. Silent. Every pair of eyes in the cafeteria followed Miles like he carried the weight of some invisible throne—untouchable, commanding, and dangerously calm.
The former security in-charge was still on the ground, trembling, trying to hold himself up with weak arms. Chairman Alder’s voice snapped through the silence.
"What are you still doing here? Scram."
The man was about to stand and hobble away, but Miles’s voice cut through like steel.
The security in-charge froze mid-step.
"I’m not done with you yet," Miles said, his tone deceptively quiet.
The cafeteria was locked in collective attention.
"I heard from Celina," Miles continued, turning slightly toward her, "that she was nearly attacked with acid not too long ago. The attacker was not a student here."
Celina stiffened. Becky and Rose looked stunned, and whispers started to rise around them again.
Miles looked back at the man, eyes sharp. "So I’ll ask you this... how did he get in? Who gave you money to let someone like that step foot onto this campus?"
The man looked as if his breath had been ripped from his chest. His lips parted slightly, eyes darting—fear bleeding through every pore. But nothing came out.
Miles narrowed his eyes. He saw it. The fear wasn’t of getting caught—it was of someone else. Someone if he revealed this wont be any good for him, maybe his family will get involved.
Lunch break was ending. Bells echoed through the halls.
"I’ll give you one grace today," Miles said, coldly. "You’re lucky I’m not handling this personally. I don’t disrupt classrooms over people like you."
He turned to Celina. "Have your security detail detain him. Quietly. No scenes."
Celina was already dialing. Her voice was calm but firm as she gave instructions over the phone.
Chairman Alder nodded. "Thank you, Mr. Sterling, for pointing out such grave lapses. I promise you, this will not happen again."
Miles gave him a polite nod. "Then we’ll head to class."
The chairman turned to the remaining staff, barking silent instructions with his eyes.
The students began to disperse slowly, whispering as they passed by Miles, some stealing glances like they were looking at a legend.
Celina, Becky, and Rose followed him wordlessly.
Order had returned to the cafeteria—but the storm Miles brought had made its mark.
Class passed quietly.
Miles sat like any other student—focused, still, blending into the rows of desks as if nothing had happened in the cafeteria just minutes earlier. But whispers still moved behind him like wind brushing low through tall grass. No one dared speak to him directly.
When the bell rang, Celina was at his side. They walked out together, side by side. Heads turned. But not a single word was spoken aloud.
Outside, the air was fresh, sun just beginning its lazy descent.
"Thank you, Miles," Celina said, her voice warm and honest. "You solved two problems for me today."
Miles glanced at her, raising an eyebrow with a small smile.
"You took care of Bill. He won’t bother me anymore. And you uncovered the mole in security. That acid attack... I kept thinking something was off. Now I know."
"I’m your bodyguard, am I not?" Miles replied casually, his voice playful.
Celina chuckled, then tilted her head, watching him as they strolled. "You’re not just a bodyguard though, are you?"
Miles gave her a sideways look, amused.
"I mean... how do you know Chairman Alder?" she pressed. "How do you even have his number? I didn’t even need to use my own connections to get you into this university , do I?. That’s not normal."
"And what about that call? That woman—she called you ’boss.’ Reaper Entertainment? What do you have to do with them?"
Miles kept his calm. "Just... a few connections."
Celina scoffed gently. "Do you think I’m that easy to fool, Mr. Sterling?"
He smirked, slowing his steps just a little.
Then, leaning in slightly, he whispered just loud enough for her to hear: "Would you believe me if I said... I own this university?"
Celina blinked. "You’re kidding."
"This is St. Patrick’s University, Miles. It’s older than both of us. And as far as I know, the Sterling family has never had any connection with it."
Miles gave a soft sigh, hands in his pockets.
Celina narrowed her eyes. "Wait... now you’re going to say you own Reaper Entertainment too?"
Miles gave her a faint, mysterious smile—but said nothing.
Her jaw tightened slightly. "Wait... do you really?"
Miles still didn’t answer.
Celina stared at him, half in disbelief, half in awe. "You didn’t deny it..."
"I didn’t confirm it either," he said, teasing.
Before she could press further, a pair of voices broke the tension behind them.
"There you two are!" Becky called, trotting up with Rose close behind.
"Hmm," Rose said, raising an eyebrow playfully, "found yourself a boy and already forgetting about your best friends?"
Celina rolled her eyes and laughed, glad for the interruption.
Miles simply offered a casual nod to the two girls, the smirk still playing at the corners of his mouth.
Miles checked his watch and exhaled softly. "Time to go then. See you all tomorrow."
He gave the girls a polite nod and turned to leave when Celina called after him.
"Miles... are you free tonight?"
He paused mid-step, glancing over his shoulder. "Umm, why?"
"Well," Celina began, brushing back a lock of hair casually, "we’re going to a club tonight. Just to unwind, have some drinks, a little fun. Thought it’d be nice if you joined us."
Miles blinked. "Sorry, ma’am. I don’t drink."
Becky gasped. "What are you, kidding?"
"I can’t believe this," Rose added with a grin. "You look like someone who drinks black coffee straight but not a single drop of alcohol? Scandalous."
Miles chuckled softly. "Yup. And besides... I have some work tonight. So I can’t join."
He began to turn again, then hesitated, curious. "By the way... which club are you going to?"
Celina tilted her head. "You don’t know? There’s only one that everyone talks about. The most popular among students—"
"The Paradise Club," both Celina and Miles said in unison.
Miles’s expression shifted. His posture stiffened. The ease in his tone vanished. His eyes narrowed slightly as the name echoed in his mind.
"You shouldn’t go there," he said flatly.
Becky raised an eyebrow. "And why not?"
"It’s not a good place."
Celina stepped closer, confused. "Why? What happened?"
Miles’s voice dropped, quiet but firm—too serious to be casual. "You just shouldn’t go there. Especially not today."
Celina looked at him, puzzled by the sudden weight in his voice. But she managed a smile, half to ease the tension, half to mask her concern.
"Okay, Mr. Sterling. We won’t. See you tomorrow then."
Miles gave her one final look—long and unreadable—then turned and walked away without another word.
As he disappeared into the evening, Becky folded her arms with a huff. "What’s with him? Acting all mysterious again."
Rose grinned. "Maybe he’s secretly a vampire and that club’s built on ancient cursed ground."
"Or maybe," Becky teased, "he’s just trying to stop us from having fun."
Celina stared down the path Miles had taken, her smile fading. Something about the way he spoke... it wasn’t playful. It wasn’t possessive. It felt like a warning.
But before she could linger too long, Becky nudged her.
"Come on, Celina. We go there all the time. Nothing’s gonna happen."
Becky added, "It’s just a club."
"Yeah," Rose said with a wink. "What’s the worst that could happen?"
Celina gave a reluctant nod, though a seed of doubt remained.
Miles stood quietly at the bus stop, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket, the cool breeze ruffling his hair. The street buzzed faintly—commuters heading home, a distant honk, the soft hum of life carrying on.
The bus pulled in with a low hiss.
He stepped aboard, took a seat near the back, and stared out the window—his reflection mingling with the city lights as thoughts flickered behind his calm eyes.
By the time he arrived near the school, the last bell had long rung, and the sun had begun its descent.
Hope and Asher were waiting, their backpacks bigger than their tiny frames. When they spotted him, they lit up.
"Miles!" Asher waved excitedly.
"Hey troublemakers," Miles greeted with a warm smile as he knelt down and opened his arms.
Hope ran into him, giggling. "You’re late!"
He ruffled her hair. "Blame the traffic. And the dramatic university life."
"What’s dramatic?" Asher asked curiously, swinging his backpack onto one shoulder.
"Something you should avoid until you’re thirty," Miles replied with a wink.
They walked home together, one on each side, holding onto his hands, chatting about their day—classroom stories, art projects, a teacher who wore mismatched socks.
By the time they reached the gate of their home, it was late afternoon. Elena peeked out from the window, a faint smile forming as she saw them arrive.
Miles unlocked the door and let the kids run in, kicking off their shoes as they raced to the living room.
Night had fallen completely now. The house was quiet—Elena had tucked the twins into bed, and the soft hum of a ceiling fan filled the silence.
Miles sat at his desk, the glow of his laptop reflecting in his eyes.
File after file—names, affiliations, floor maps, security patterns, the Paradise Club’s architecture down to its emergency exits. Every face. Every corridor. Every flaw.He memorized it all, calmly, as if assembling a mental chessboard.
But something caught his attention.
He grabbed his phone and dialed.
Monica picked up on the first ring. "Hey, boss. What’s up?"
"I’m going through the Paradise Club files. Where are their financials?" Miles asked, eyes narrowing slightly.
"Oh! I completely forgot to mention that—oops," Monica chuckled. "Already handled it. Their accounts are frozen. They won’t be touching a single coin anytime soon."
Miles leaned back slightly, the shadow of a smile playing at the corner of his lips. "Good. You’ve been pulling long hours though. Take some rest. Sorry for dumping all this on you."
"It’s okay, boss. Not like I’m doing everything alone," she replied, stretching audibly over the call. "Besides, it’s kinda fun when you’re dismantling scumbags."
Miles chuckled softly. "How’s your brother doing, by the way?"
"Him? All chill. Recently got selected into the university he wanted," she said, proud.
"That’s good to hear. Take care of yourself—and him."
Miles hung up and leaned forward again, the screen still glowing, the name "Paradise Club" hovering at the top of the open document.
He stared at it for a long moment, his eyes turning cold again.
"You hurt people who couldn’t fight back. That’s your first mistake."
You have my attention.