The Retired Young Mercenary Is Secretly a Billionaire
Chapter 72: Debt!!!

Chapter 72: Debt!!!

Miles’s voice cut through the tense air, low and deadly calm."What do you think you’re trying to do?"

His cold eyes locked with Curtis’s, unblinking, terrifying in their stillness. His hand remained clenched around Curtis’s wrist like iron, unmoved, unshaken.

Curtis felt the pressure radiating through every nerve in his arm—but ego flared for one last desperate moment. He tried to swing with his free hand—

But he never got the chance.

In a blink, Curtis was on the ground.The entire bank lobby seemed to jolt with the impact. Curtis let out a strangled cry of pain, clutching his ribs, breath knocked clean out of him. Eyes wide in humiliation and terror.

Miles stood over him. Cold. Calm. Unapologetic.

"If you ever try to take advantage of anyone again," Miles said, his voice like a knife through glass, "I’ll make sure you never stand up again."

Curtis trembled on the floor, unable to speak. The arrogance had evaporated. All that remained was fear.

Morris, still holding April’s phone, looked furious—disgusted even.

Miles turned slightly. "Manager Morris, handle this scumbag."

Morris didn’t hesitate. "He’s going to face charges, Mr. Sterling. I’ll make sure no reputable company even considers hiring him."

Miles gave a single approving nod. "Good."

Morris straightened his coat, then turned to April. His tone softened.

"Miss April... come with me. I’ll get your loan approved right now."

April’s eyes lit up with disbelief, a spark of long-awaited hope. She opened her mouth to speak—

But Miles cut in gently.

"She won’t be needing any loan now."

April blinked, stunned. "What?"

"I’ll take care of it," Miles said firmly, his voice quieter now. "Let’s go, April."

She hesitated, still not processing. "But... Miles..."

He looked at her, his expression softening for the first time.

"Don’t worry. I’ll make sure your mother gets the best treatment possible."

Morris watched silently as they turned and walked out of the bank, the doors slowly closing behind them.

Outside the bank—

The late afternoon sun poured over the sidewalk. The air was calmer now, but April’s mind was racing.

"Miles... He said he was going to approve the loan," she said, still confused.

Miles gave her a sideways glance, his tone unwavering. "Again—you don’t need any loan."

She frowned. "But—"

"No buts," Miles interrupted gently but firmly. "I owe you this much."

She tilted her head. "You don’t owe me anything." _{f\r(e)ewe.b no\vel.com}

"I do," he said, halting his steps and facing her. "I was just a stranger to you. But you still held on to the letters my mother wrote me. You didn’t throw them away. You kept them safe. That... meant everything."

April opened her mouth to protest again, but he held up a finger.

"And before you say anything—it’s not about money," Miles said. "Because I’m not giving you any."

April blinked. "Huh?"

A smirk tugged at the edge of his lips. "I mean—I’m not handing over a check or cash. But I am arranging the best treatment for your mom. Full care. No expenses spared."

He took out his phone and made a quick call.

"Monica," he said, the moment the call connected.

Her voice came through efficiently on the other side. "Yes, boss?"

"There’s a woman who needs medical treatment. Full support, no limits. Arrange everything. Now."

Monica didn’t hesitate. "Understood. I’m on it."

Miles ended the call.

"Done," he said, pocketing his phone. "Everything will be taken care of. You focus on your mother. And ask your father to rest. I know he’s been struggling."

April stared at him, overwhelmed.

He paused, then added with a small smile, "And if you ever need a job, come to Sterling Enterprises. You’ll always have a place."

April’s lips quivered. Her chest tightened. She couldn’t hold it anymore.

Tears streamed silently down her cheeks.

She took a shaky breath and whispered, "Miles... Thank you."

He looked at her with calm warmth. "Let’s get going. Your family needs you."

They walked off into the sunlight—two lives connected not by blood or debt, but by unspoken gratitude, and a moment of kindness that would never be forgotten.

Miles drives her to the hospital

The hospital’s elevator doors slid open with a soft chime. Miles stepped out with April beside him, her eyes nervously scanning the pristine white walls. It was quiet—too quiet—but she could feel something had changed. Everything looked... expensive. The hallway was lined with polished floors, soft yellow lighting, and minimalistic paintings. It didn’t look like the general ward anymore.

She turned to Miles, confused. "This... this isn’t the floor my mother was on."

Miles simply smiled and gently gestured ahead. "Let’s go."

April followed him, her footsteps hesitant. As they reached the room, her breath hitched. The door plaque read: Private VIP Suite — Room 504. Before she could say anything, Miles pushed open the door.

Inside, sunlight poured through large, curtained windows. The room was serene—equipped with advanced medical tech, a plush recliner, flower arrangements, and a small couch set by the corner. Wilona lay in the adjustable hospital bed, propped up slightly with pillows. She looked tired, but peaceful, her face soft with relief. A pink shawl was folded at her side, and her thin fingers fiddled with the hem absentmindedly.

April stepped in, stunned. "Mom...?"

Wilona looked up. Her frail features lit up instantly. "April," she said warmly. "You’re here."

Just then, a middle-aged man in a crisp navy suit stepped in behind them. He wore rimless glasses and held a clipboard in one hand.

"Mr. Sterling," he said, bowing slightly. "I’m Dr. Dwight, transferred from Capital Hospital. Miss Monica informed me of your request and arranged everything. I’ve examined Ms. Wilona and devised a recovery plan. With proper care and attention—which this facility can now provide—she’ll be back on her feet in a few weeks."

Miles extended his hand with a nod. "Thank you, Doctor. That’s good news. We’ll count on you to guide us from here."

Dr. Dwight returned the handshake with a firm grip. "She’s in good hands, sir. I’ll give you some privacy." He bowed again before exiting the room quietly.

April rushed to her mother’s side and took her hand. "How are you feeling? Are you in pain?"

Wilona smiled gently but shook her head. "No, just... overwhelmed." Her gaze moved past April to Miles. "I don’t understand what’s happening. This room... these doctors... Why are they treating me like some dignitary?" She looked down for a moment. "This must be expensive. I don’t want to be a burden on you or your father. We’ve struggled so long—this isn’t something I deserve."

April’s face tightened. "Don’t say that, Mom. You’re not a burden. Not to me. Not to Dad. We’ve fought together for everything we have. I wouldn’t be anything without you. Don’t you dare think like that."

A tear slipped down her cheek. Miles stood silently nearby, giving them space.

Wilona reached up and brushed April’s cheek with her thumb. "You’ve grown so much," she whispered, her eyes glistening.

Then, her gaze moved back to Miles. Her eyes lingered. "And who’s this gentleman? A friend of yours?"

April wiped her tears, composing herself. "No... He’s not just a friend. He’s Miles, Mom. The Miles I told you about. The one from the letters. He’s back."

Wilona’s eyes widened with disbelief. "Miles...? That Miles?" Her voice caught in her throat. "Oh my God... I used to read your mother’s letters over and over. I remember everything she wrote about you. How she never gave up hope... And now you’re really here. Grown up, right in front of me."

Miles stepped forward with a respectful smile. "It’s an honor to meet you, Aunty Wilona. You’re like family. I just want you to get better soon. Once you’re well, we can have a family dinner. My mom cooks like a five-star chef."

Wilona let out a soft laugh, touched and amused. "You sound just like how your mother described you... calm and innocent."

April chuckled. "Innocent you say, He kind of dropped out of the sky and took over everything."

Wilona looked at him again. "Thank you, Miles. I don’t even know what to say. What you’ve done for us today... I—"

He held up a hand gently. "No need for thanks. Just focus on getting well."

April stepped beside him, still reeling from everything. "You didn’t have to do all this. The room..."

Miles turned toward her, his voice calm but sincere. "I did it because I could. I know it’s not the same, but... it feels like I’m repaying a debt. One that’s been weighing on me for seventeen years."

April looked at him, unsure.

"I was gone all that time," Miles continued. "Your family was one of the few that never gave up on my mother. You kept her letters. You remembered me even when I was just a ghost in ink. And today, when I saw what you were dealing with—Curtis, the bank... I couldn’t just walk away."

She said nothing for a moment. Then finally, softly, "You’ve already done more than enough."

Miles smiled faintly. "Let’s just say, it’s a start."

He turned to Wilona, gave her a respectful nod. "Take care, Aunty. I have to head out now. But you’ll be in safe hands."

Wilona nodded, her voice soft. "Bless you, child."

Miles turned back to April. "Make sure your dad gets some rest too. And if you ever need a job, come find me at Sterling Enterprises."

April’s eyes welled again, the tears falling freely this time. "Thank you, Miles... for everything."

He gave a small smile and wave, then quietly stepped out of the room.

Outside, as Miles walked back to his car, his mind lingered on what just happened.

There was a warmth in his chest that wasn’t tainted by pain or war or shadows. It felt... right. Helping her. Helping them. It didn’t erase the seventeen years that had passed, or the scars he still carried. One thread being slowly rewoven into something softer. Something like peace.

He looked up at the sky and exhaled.

And with that, he drove away—quietly, resolutely, and just a little lighter than before.

He reached home,

Dinner was peaceful.

The twins sat across from Miles, gleefully munching on their food. Elena smiled softly, watching her children talk and laugh—Hope babbling about a storybook she read at school, while Asher, in his usual composed tone, explained how he beat a puzzle in record time. Daniel chimed in with light jokes, and for once, the house felt completely whole.

Miles, seated silently at the table, allowed himself to enjoy it. The warmth. The love. The normalcy he hadn’t tasted in years.

Even after all the chaos of the day, something about April’s mother smiling... about the relief in April’s eyes... made this dinner feel earned.

He had kept his promise. Just one small thing... done right.

After clearing his plate and helping Elena with the dishes, Miles retreated to his room upstairs. He stepped inside and closed the door behind him, sighing.

It was finally quiet.

The soft hum of the ceiling fan accompanied his steps as he approached the desk in the corner of the room. A single envelope lay waiting, untouched, still sealed with the old crimson wax bearing the Sterling crest.

Miles stared at it for a while.

The envelope felt heavier than its weight.

He sat down slowly, ran his fingers over the wax seal, and leaned back in the chair, deep in thought.

What is it? What did you want to tell me, old man? .