The General's Daughter: The Mission

Chapter 178: The Morning After

Yannis Fenn received the message at dawn.

It came from the assistant of Ares Zuvel—brief, urgent, and impossible to ignore.

But his phone lay face-down on the bedside table, muted.

And Yannis... was asleep.

...

When he finally saw it—

Everything changed.

His eyes snapped open, the last traces of sleep vanishing in an instant. He shot upright, heart already racing as he reread the message, each word tightening something in his chest.

No hesitation.

No second thought.

He was out of bed in seconds.

The shower barely lasted minutes—just enough to chase away the fog in his mind. Water ran cold over his skin, but it did nothing to quiet the unease building inside him.

Something was wrong.

Deeply wrong.

...

By the time the sun had fully risen, Yannis was already at the towering gates of the Zuvel Laguna Estate.

He didn’t even bother with formalities.

The moment his car stopped, he stepped out and tossed the keys to the guard without a word, already moving.

A servant was waiting, and Yannis followed him at a brisk pace.

Through polished halls.

Across marble floors that echoed each step.

Up the grand staircase that seemed to stretch endlessly toward the second floor.

His jaw tightened.

At the end of the hallway, they stopped before a heavy door.

The servant raised his hand to knock—

But the door opened before his knuckles could touch the wood.

"Come in."

The voice of Ares Zuvel was low, rough—like he hadn’t slept at all.

Yannis stepped inside.

And immediately realized—

This was the master bedroom.

Why is Lara in the master bedroom? he thought.

"Good morning, Mister Zuvel," he said, forcing professionalism into his tone. "Why did you call—"

The words died in his throat.

His gaze had landed on the bed.

On her.

Lara lay against dark sheets that starkly contrasted her pale skin. The bed itself was unmistakably masculine—broad, severe, untouched by softness.

Yet she was there and very still.

Too still.

For a split second, something cold gripped his chest.

Fear!

He forced himself to move.

In long, urgent strides, Yannis reached the bedside and immediately took her wrist, fingers pressing against her skin.

Her pulse.

He needed to feel her pulse.

"There—" he exhaled softly, tension loosening just slightly.

But not enough.

"What happened to her?" he demanded, his voice sharper now.

His eyes flickered briefly to her face.

Is it because of the photo I sent...?

The thought slipped out under his breath, heavy with regret.

Ares remained where he stood. He was calm, too calm.

"She fell," he said simply. "I believe she saw something on her phone."

Yannis’s jaw clenched.

It was the photo. I was too hasty...

He straightened abruptly, turning toward Ares, frustration bleeding into his voice.

"Why didn’t you take her to a hospital?"

There was an edge to it now—accusation.

Ares did not miss it.

Instead, he met Yannis’s gaze evenly.

"We have a family doctor," he replied, his tone controlled, almost indifferent. "He checked her vitals and said she was okay, and asked for a specialist."

But something in the air—

Shifted.

Because whatever had brought Lara to this state...

Was far from simple.

Across the room, Ares Zuvel’s expression hardened.

"Are you telling me," he said, his voice turning sharp, "that she’s slipped back into a coma?"

The word hung in the air like a threat.

Yannis didn’t answer immediately.

Instead, his eyes flicked toward Lara again—too pale, too still against the dark sheets.

Then—

"Haven’t you tried waking her?"

Ares went still.

Then a brief pause.

Almost imperceptible.

"I did," he replied.

But even as he said it, the memory replayed—his hand gripping her shoulder, shaking her lightly... then harder.

No response.

He had dismissed it.

He thought she was just exhausted from the trip.

Thought she needed rest.

...

Yannis frowned.

That didn’t sit right.

Lara wasn’t like that.

She was a light sleeper—always had been. The kind who stirred at the faintest disturbance, who woke at the smallest shift in air.

Even earlier—

When he had pressed the stethoscope against her chest—

She hadn’t reacted. Not even a flicker.

A cold weight settled in his gut. He really neglected her.

I shouldn’t have sent that photo...

She wasn’t ready.

"I’ll call for an ambulance—"

The words hadn’t fully left his mouth when—

The door burst open.

"Daddy!"

A small figure rushed in, hair tousled, breath uneven.

Shay stood there, eyes wide with urgency.

"Mommy is missing! She didn’t sleep in my bed last night!"

Yannis’s brows drew together, irritation flickering across his face. Under any other circumstance, he might have found the child endearing.

Right now—

She was a disruption, even calling someone Mommy.

Ares turned toward his daughter, momentarily caught off guard.

He hadn’t realized she was this observant.

This... quick.

Then—

Shay’s eyes landed on the bed on Lara.

Her entire expression transformed in an instant.

"Oh! Mommy is here!" she exclaimed, relief flooding her voice as she ran forward.

Then, just as quickly, suspicion replaced it.

"Daddy," she demanded, hands on her hips, "did you bully my Mommy? Why is she in your room?"

Ares blinked.

For once, he was speechless.

The sheer speed of her shifting emotions left him momentarily unarmed.

But Shay didn’t wait.

In a heartbeat, she had climbed onto the bed, her small body pressing against Lara as she leaned over her.

"Mommy, wake up," she insisted, patting her insistently. "Why are you in Daddy’s room?"

She paused—

Then added, with innocent bluntness:

"Are you trying to make my little sister or little brother?"

...

Silence fell. Heavy and awkward.

And completely at odds with the tension in the room.

Yannis exhaled slowly, dragging a hand down his face.

Even Ares—

For the first time that morning—

Didn’t know how to respond.

"Shay—get down."

Ares’s voice dropped, low and controlled, but there was an edge beneath it now. Not anger—urgency.

Yannis moved at the same time, reaching for the child more carefully than his earlier irritation would suggest. "Easy," he said, lifting her gently away from Lara. "Give your mommy some space."

But as Shay was pulled back, her small hand brushed against Lara’s cheek—

And paused.

"Daddy..." she whispered, her voice suddenly uncertain. "Mommy is cold."

The words hit harder than they should have.

Yannis’s expression changed instantly. He turned back, pressing his hand against Lara’s neck, then her forehead—more deliberate this time, more focused.

"No," he murmured, more to himself than anyone else. "This isn’t just unconsciousness..."