Chapter 11: Thankyou!!!
Three years ago... Somewhere within the boundaries of Mexico...
"Ghost, target spotted. South wing. Moving in."
The voice crackled softly in his earpiece. Perched on the edge of a crumbling rooftop under the cloak of night, Miles—known in the underground world only as Ghost —tightened his grip on the grappling line.
Without a word, he leapt.
The line went taut, swinging him like a pendulum across the open courtyard. Wind howled past his ears, then— crash —he burst silently through a cracked third-floor window. The glass barely shivered.
He landed with feline precision, boots soft on old tile, knife already drawn.
One breath. One heartbeat.
A guard rounded the corner—too late. The blade found his throat, and Miles lowered the body soundlessly.
He moved like vapor—silent, cold, and unrelenting. One by one, the guards disappeared into the darkness, their last sounds muffled by steel and gloved hands. No alarms. No mess. Just the ghost in their midst.
"Target just entered the main room. East side."
Miles adjusted the harness on his chest, then approached the ornate door at the end of the hallway. A soft knock.
Footsteps.
The door opened, and in that instant, he struck.
His knife plunged deep into the throat of a broad, hulking man draped in a white linen suit, his neck layered with gold chains. His fingers, stained with cigar ash and blood, twitched reflexively before he collapsed backward into the plush armchair behind him.
The man gurgled once—eyes wide with disbelief—then slumped lifeless, his blood pooling against the velvet carpet. His last expression was one of confusion. He never saw death coming.
"Kill confirmed."
Miles exhaled slowly, stepping over the corpse.
"Well done, Ghost," the voice in his earpiece returned, now lighter. "Time to come back."
But as he turned to leave, something—or someone—moved.
Miles stepped over the body, wiped his blade clean on the man’s silk lapel, and reached for his radio.
"Ghost, extraction—"
Click.
He disconnected the comms.
Something wasn’t right.
A soft rustling behind the velvet curtains. Not the kind that came from wind—but a human tremble. He moved quietly, knife ready—then yanked the curtain aside.
Behind it sat a girl—hands bound, mouth taped, eyes wide with fear.
She wasn’t Mexican—her skin paler, her features sharp but delicate, lips trembling. Her clothes were torn at the shoulder, and her hair was tangled, stained with dirt and dried tears. Maybe late teens. Maybe twenty. It was hard to tell beneath the trauma.
He crouched before her, lowering the knife.
She flinched anyway.
Gently, he peeled the tape off her mouth. Her voice cracked like paper.
"P-please... I’m not one of them... I was taken from a hostel ... they were... selling us... please..."
Miles scanned the room. No cameras. No footsteps. No time.
He cut the ropes binding her wrists and ankles. Her skin was chafed raw.
"I can’t take you with me," he said softly, already pulling a small black card from a hidden pouch. "I’m not allowed to bring anyone back."
He pressed the card into her hand.
"Call this number. Her name’s Monica. She’ll get you home. Safe. Quiet. No questions."
She stared at the card, then at him.
"Why... why are you helping me?"
Miles paused, the question hitting him in a way he didn’t expect.
"I don’t know," he said honestly. Then he slipped a wad of folded bills into her palm. "This should cover you till Monica gets you out."
The girl’s eyes welled up as she clutched the card and money. "Thank you..."
He was already halfway to the broken window. He glanced back once.
She sat there in a shaft of moonlight—frail, stunned, barefoot on the bloodstained carpet, hugging herself tightly. Her face was dirty, but her eyes shone with something fragile.
Hope.
And then he vanished into the night.
...
Present Day — Luxury Jewelry Store, Downtown
A hush swept across the store like a sudden gust of wind.
All heads turned toward the entrance.
The automatic glass doors slid open with a soft hiss—and in stepped a woman whose presence instantly shifted the energy in the room.
She was breathtaking.
Tall, graceful, and dressed in a sleek, off-shoulder white jumpsuit that hugged her figure like second skin. Her long dark hair flowed in soft waves down her back, and her skin glowed under the ambient lighting. Diamond studs sparkled from her ears, and her heels clicked with confident elegance as she moved forward. Her eyes—fierce and amber—scanned the room until they landed on him.
Jess.
Gasps and whispers bloomed across the floor.
"Isn’t that Jess?" "Oh my god, it’s really her...""Wait, the Jess? From Reaper Entertainment?" "She’s the face of half the brands in the city!" "She called him boss?!"
Jess was no ordinary celebrity. She was the rising star—an idol whose dance videos, live performances, and bold interviews had lit up the entire internet. Youngsters adored her. Magazines called her "the Storm with a Smile." Reaper Entertainment’s crown jewel—famous for not just her beauty and talent, but also her mystery. No scandals. No slips. Untouchable.
Except now she walked straight toward Miles.
Miles, who stood with Elena beside him, eyes narrowing as the pieces clicked. He wasn’t much into entertainment—never had time for screens and shows. But that face... that voice...
It was her.
The girl from Mexico. Three years ago. Behind that curtain. Eyes full of fear, hands tied, whispering thank you through cracked lips.
Now she strode toward him like a queen walking home.
"Boss!" Jess called out again, her voice warm and thrilled. "How you doin’?" She didn’t wait—just walked right into his space and gave him a half-hug, eyes sparkling like she’d waited years for this moment.
Elena’s brows rose. First a red military ID card... now this? She was still holding the bracelet, heart thudding in curiosity. "Jess... as in the Jess?" she asked in disbelief.
Jess turned to her, grinning. "Hello, ma’am. I am Jess!"
Meanwhile—
The young woman who’d just moments ago sneered at Elena now looked pale as chalk. Her boyfriend’s grip tightened on her wrist.
"We need to go," he hissed.
"What—why? She’s just a singer—"
"You idiot, " he snapped under his breath, dragging her toward the exit. "That’s Jess from Reaper Entertainment . They own this mall now—they just acquired it yesterday! She called that guy ’boss’—you know what that means? He’s above her!"
The girl’s eyes widened as the truth landed like a brick.
"Oh god... we messed with the wrong people..."
"Run."
And they bolted, slipping out of the store as whispers turned into stunned silence. No one stopped them.
Because now, all eyes were on Jess and the mysterious man she called boss .
Miles looked at her with a rare softness in his gaze, something few had ever seen.
"You..." he said quietly, taking in the woman before him. "Looks like I missed a lot. You’ve made a name for yourself."
A brief smile tugged at his lips.
"I’m happy for you."
Jess’s eyes shimmered. She blinked rapidly, trying to hold back the tears, but they welled up anyway, like something inside her finally let go.
"All this..." she said, voice thick with emotion, "it’s because of you , boss. Thank you for that day. For pulling me out of that nightmare."
Miles didn’t speak immediately.
Instead, he gently placed a hand on her shoulder—firm, reassuring.
"You’re brave," he said. "You saved yourself. I just opened a door."
Jess lowered her gaze for a moment, swallowing back a wave of gratitude.
Elena stood still—watching, heart swelling. She didn’t know the full story, but she could feel it in her chest. Whatever Miles had done... it had changed someone’s life forever.
She was proud.
So, deeply proud.
Jess looked back up, smiling now through the tears.
"I always wanted to meet you again. To thank you in person. I asked Miss Monica so many times...""But she always said no—until yesterday. Out of nowhere, she called me. Told me I had a brand promotion event here, at Star Harbor . I think... she did it on purpose. So I could find you."
Miles nodded slowly, thoughtful.
Jess beamed.
"It’s good to see you again, boss. "She stepped back slightly, wiping her eyes without shame. "Thanks for everything. I should head down—I’ve got a performance on the ground floor in a few minutes."
She took a breath, then added with a wink, "Come down if you want to watch. It’s a good show."
With that, she turned, walking away with the same confidence she had walked in with—but now with a softer heart and lighter shoulders.
As she disappeared toward the elevator, Elena finally spoke, voice gentle:
"So what’s her story, son? Seems like you’ve got quite the connections, huh?"
Miles gave a slight shrug, downplaying it.
"Nothing much, Mom. I just helped her in the past, that’s all."
Elena smiled, eyes narrowing playfully.
"You’re full of surprises..."
She looked down the hallway where Jess had gone and chuckled softly.
"I wish Hope and Asher were here. They always light up when they see her on TV."
Miles raised an eyebrow with a smirk.
"Is it so? Then I guess we’ll have to invite her for dinner someday. "He gave a small wink. Elena rolled her eyes with a smile.
Just then, the store manager approached them politely.
"Apologies for the inconvenience, Mr. Sterling."
Miles gave a calm nod.
"It’s alright." He turned to the glass case and pointed.
"Pack this piece. Have it delivered to my residence later."
"Of course, sir." the manager replied smoothly, already giving instructions to the staff.
Elena touched his arm gently.
"Son, let’s go downstairs. Let’s not break her heart—she might be expecting you to watch the show."
Miles smiled and nodded.
"Okay, Mom."
He paid the bill, and together, they made their way toward the escalator.
The lights dimmed, and soft music began to play as the curtains on the stage were slowly drawn back. A spotlight flickered to life, illuminating Jess in a dazzling silver gown, her figure graceful and poised. Behind her, the stage was adorned with gentle cascades of golden light and twinkling effects that mimicked a starry night. The music swelled, and her voice floated into the air—clear, emotional, and magnetic.
The crowd, a blend of tourists, locals, and shoppers, fell into a hush as her performance captured the room. Phones were raised, smiles appeared, and even the chatter in the upper lounge faded away. There was something raw and moving about her voice, like it carried a story deeper than the lyrics alone.
From their seats in the VIP balcony, Miles and Elena watched in silence.
Elena leaned closer and whispered with a smile, "It’s a beautiful performance, son."
Miles, eyes still on Jess, nodded softly. "Yes, it is. I wasn’t expecting it to be this... heartfelt."
Time passed easily after the show. They continued their day together—shopping for gifts and clothes, mostly for Hope, Asher, and even a new suit for Daniel. The staff, instructed ahead of time, ensured everything was delivered straight to the house before they even left the mall.
Later, the two sat quietly at a quaint café inside the plaza, sipping warm cappuccinos while people strolled by outside under the soft golden hour light.
Ethan waited patiently in the car, and soon after, they were on their way home.
But before heading back,
The car pulled smoothly into the school’s pick-up lane just as the final bell rang. Children poured out of the gates in happy clusters, but two familiar little figures suddenly burst through the crowd—Hope and Asher, their faces lighting up like fireworks the second they saw the sleek black car.
"BIG BROOO!" they screamed in perfect unison, voices ringing through the afternoon air like bells.
Hope’s pigtails flew behind her as she bolted forward, dragging Asher along like a mini whirlwind of joy. Their backpacks flopped wildly with each step.
Miles stepped out of the car with a big grin and crouched down, arms wide open.
"Hey, little tornadoes!"
They crashed into his arms like twin cannonballs, nearly knocking him over as they wrapped him up in a full-body hug.
"You came to pick us up!" Hope beamed, nuzzling into his shoulder.
"Do we smell donuts on you?" Asher asked suspiciously, sniffing dramatically.
Miles laughed and scooped them both up easily. "No donuts. But I do come bearing gifts."
The twins froze, blinking wide-eyed.
"G-G-GIFTS?!" Hope gasped as if he’d just told her she won the lottery.
"REAL ones? Not socks?" Asher squinted up at him.
"Real ones. Clothes, toys, everything. Waiting for you at home."
"OHMYGOSH!" Hope flailed her arms with glee.
"I LOVE YOU, BIG BROOO!" Asher shouted, planting a big kiss on Miles’s cheek.
Miles chuckled, carrying them both to the car and gently setting them next to Elena.
"Guess what, Mama! Big Broo got us presents!" Hope whispered, practically bouncing in her seat.
"You guys are so spoiled," Elena said, chuckling and pulling them both into a warm side hug.
"Let’s go home! Let’s go see them! GO GO GO!" Asher shouted toward Ethan.
"You heard the Captain," Ethan called back with a smile. "Engaging warp speed!"
And with that, the car pulled away from the school, filled with laughter, bouncing limbs, and the excited chatter of two very happy little twins whose hearts—and hands—were about to be very full.