The Retired Young Mercenary Is Secretly a Billionaire
Chapter 76: That poor woman. She’s got the patience of a saint!

Chapter 76: That poor woman. She’s got the patience of a saint!

Dinner began with the steady arrival of dishes—one after another, the wooden table filling with sizzling platters, dipping sauces, and aromatic sides. The warm tones of BBQ Heaven’s lighting gave everything a golden, cozy hue. Glasses clinked as drinks were poured—sparkling soda for Becky and Rose, a mellow herbal tea for Celina, and plain water for Miles, as usual.

A server placed a large tray of grilled chicken, glazed ribs, and charred vegetables in front of them, the fragrant smoke rising like a gentle invitation.

"Mmm, that smells insane," Rose said, practically bouncing in her seat.

Becky leaned slightly toward Miles, smiling. "So, Miles... how’s your business going? You gave us quite the surprise when the news broke that Sterling Enterprises acquired Cinder Square."

She chuckled, poking at a roasted corn cob on her plate. "You were the only Sterling I knew, so naturally, I called Celina in the middle of the night just to confirm."

Rose sipped her drink and nodded. "Quite the surprise indeed. Even in my family, Sterling Enterprises is suddenly a topic of dinner conversation."

Celina smirked over her glass, her voice teasing. "Didn’t you two get used to surprises from Miles back in the university days? The man’s a walking enigma. You think you’ve figured him out, then boom—another twist."

Becky laughed, "You’re absolutely right. Like when he Scared those bullies just with words"

Rose added, "Or that time he beat the shit out of those goons and acting like nothing happened."

Miles, chewing a piece of perfectly grilled chicken, simply said, "This grilled chicken is very flavorful."

There was a beat of silence—then all three girls burst into laughter.

Celina wiped the corner of her eye, "Classic Miles."

The conversation flowed easily after that, filled with playful banter, nostalgic teasing, and sips between bites. The atmosphere was warm—not just from the food but from the shared memories that hung around the table like old photographs.

Then Rose’s gaze shifted past Miles’s shoulder. Her expression changed slightly, puzzled, curious.

"What’s with that guy over there?" she asked, subtly pointing toward a table near the bar.

The group turned their attention. At the corner table sat a man, clearly drunk, his head bobbing as he spoke in slurred words. His cheeks were flushed, and he gestured wildly with his hands—one moment laughing, the next wiping tears from his face.

Beside him, a woman—probably his girlfriend—looked distressed. She tried to calm him down, holding his hand, whispering something in his ear, but the man wasn’t listening. He kept mumbling to himself, caught somewhere between a drunken ramble and a breakdown.

Becky squinted. "It looks like a mom trying to convince a crying child."

Celina laughed lightly. "Exactly! That poor woman. She’s got the patience of a saint."

Miles hadn’t spoken yet. His gaze lingered on the man a little longer than the others’. There was something about him... the messy dark hair, the voice just loud enough to carry across the room, even the way his shoulders slouched when he cried.

He looked familiar.

Miles’s brow furrowed slightly, the smile fading from his face for just a second.But he said nothing.

Instead, he reached for his water glass as the others kept chatting.

Dinner was halfway through when Miles suddenly stood up from his chair. The three girls looked at one another, puzzled.

Celina let out a small sigh, a faint smile forming on her lips. "Another surprise, maybe..."

They followed his gaze to a nearby table. There, a young man sat hunched over, clearly drunk, speaking between sobs. A concerned woman, perhaps his girlfriend, was trying her best to calm him down.

Miles made his way across the restaurant, moving with that same composed stride that never gave away too much. He reached the table, looked at the man closely, and spoke.

"Alec?"

The girl turned in surprise at the sound of his voice. Alec looked up, his blurry eyes widening as he recognized the figure before him.

"You are... Brother Miles...?" he slurred, tears lining his voice. "Brother Miles, I’m so unlucky..."

Miles didn’t say anything at first. He simply pulled out a chair and sat beside him. "What’s the problem?" he asked, voice calm but firm. "Did the store deal go wrong?"

Alec sniffed, trying to explain through the haze of alcohol. "After you dropped me there this morning... I went to meet the property manager. But... but he said... there’s another party who wants to rent out the stores." His voice cracked. "And they’re offering three times more."

Miles leaned in, listening carefully.

"He told me I had to pay three times the price if I still wanted them."

"But didn’t you already pay the advance?" Miles asked, frowning. "I thought the deal was done."

"I told him that!" Alec raised his hands in exasperation. "But he said... there’s no legal contract yet. No signatures. Nothing binding."

Miles’s expression darkened.

"And then," Alec continued, more bitter now, "he warned me. Said if I tried to take legal action... I’d be going against Sterling Enterprises. He said even my dad can’t go against Sterling."

A weak laugh escaped him. "I thought the boss of Sterlings was supposed to be a nice guy... but now..." he trailed off.

Alec’s girlfriend rubbed his shoulder gently. "Maybe we can just look for another place tomorrow..."

"No one’s going to look for another place," Miles said, voice low and controlled. "You liked the stores at Cinder Square. You paid an advance. You’re getting those stores. I promise."

He pulled out his phone and tapped a contact.

"June," he said as the call connected.

"Yes, boss?"

"Who’s handling the properties in the tech complex?"

"That would be Phil, boss. He’s an old employee. Why?"

"Investigate every deal he’s done recently. And I want him in my office, first thing tomorrow morning."

"Yes, boss. I’ll summon him."

Miles hung up.

He turned back to Alec, who was now leaning heavily into his girlfriend’s shoulder, slipping in and out of consciousness.

"Don’t worry," Miles said, his tone gentler now. "Come to Sterling Enterprises tomorrow. Ask the receptionist to say you’re here to meet Miles Sterling. I’ll take care of the rest."

Alec didn’t respond—he was already asleep.

Miles stood and gave a small nod to the young woman.

"Tell him what I said when he wakes up."

She looked up at him, a mix of disbelief and gratitude in her eyes. "O-Okay, Brother Miles... I will."

As Miles turned to leave, she leaned closer to Alec and whispered, still stunned. "Sterling...?"

Back at the girls’ table, the three of them watched as he returned, slid back into his seat, and picked up his fork like nothing had happened.

Becky shook her head slowly. "Well... I wasn’t wrong. He is from a CEO drama."

Celina laughed softly, and Rose just grinned.

Dinner continued.

The dinner ended with lingering smiles and soft goodbyes. Rose and Becky waved as their ride pulled up at the curb, disappearing into the blur of city lights.

At the parking lot, beneath the quiet glow of streetlamps and the distant hum of traffic, Celina lingered near her car.

She looked at Miles, arms folded lightly. "You should hang out with us more often," she said casually. Then her tone dropped just slightly, "—or at least with me."

Miles turned his head, eyebrows raised.

Celina quickly looked away, brushing her hair behind her ear. "I mean... you’ll forget us, with how busy you are."

Miles stepped forward and, with a small flick of his fingers, tapped her lightly on the forehead.

"Ouch—!" Celina winced and laughed at once, rubbing the spot.

"What are you talking about?" Miles said with a calm smirk. "I don’t forget people who matter."

Celina held his gaze for a moment, her smile softening.

"Good night, Miles," she said quietly.

"Good night," he replied.

She got into her car. Her security driver nodded toward Miles in silent respect before steering them into the city night.

Miles watched the taillights fade before turning toward his own car. The engine purred to life, and he eased onto the road.

The city was quieter now—less crowded, more peaceful. Buildings shimmered like sentinels under the moonlight, their windows glowing like distant stars. Miles didn’t turn the music on. He drove with one hand on the wheel, thoughts drifting between Alec’s words, the night’s laughter, and Celina’s subtle concern.

The skyscrapers slowly faded behind him as he drove toward home—toward the warmth waiting at the home.

Miles reached home just past midnight.

The house was quiet. The warm yellow lights in the hallway had been dimmed, casting soft glows on family portraits and kids’ drawings pinned to the walls. Shoes were neatly lined by the door. The only sound was the distant ticking of the clock in the living room.

Everyone had gone to sleep.

He closed the door gently behind him, walked past the twins’ room — their door slightly ajar, with the faint sound of their little snores — and entered his own.

The familiar scent of fresh linen and wood polish greeted him. He set his keys on the table, unbuttoned his shirt, and walked over to the mirror.

He stared at his reflection for a long moment.

There was no blood on his hands tonight. No gunpowder, no bruises, no sirens. Just tired eyes, strong shoulders, and the weight of responsibilities pressing quietly behind them.

Alec’s issue. The boy was young, shaken, and entangled in something bigger than he understood. That couldn’t wait.

Then there was the Old Master.

He leaned forward, hands resting on the sink’s edge.

The family needed a new house. This place—though filled with warmth—was getting smaller. The kids deserved space to grow. Elena deserved peace. Daniel, a safer home. It was time.

And the business... Sterling Enterprises.

Miles looked back up into the mirror.

From a blood-soaked mercenary life... to this.

A quiet home. A dinner with friends. Siblings who hugged him like he’d always been there. A mother who now smiled without fear. A legacy being built not on body counts—but on foundations, futures, and something like hope.

He touched the scar across his ribs — faint, old, a reminder.

So much blood to get here.

He straightened up, exhaled through his nose, and turned off the lights.