The Retired Young Mercenary Is Secretly a Billionaire

Chapter 260: Fate and regrets!!

The rain continued to fall over Paris, soft yet persistent, painting the streets in a silver sheen. The sound of droplets tapping against umbrellas blended with distant traffic and faint chatter from people seeking warmth in small corners of the city.

Léo stood beside Ghost, eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Your treat right?"

Ghost glanced at him, the faintest smile appearing.

"Of course."

Léo grinned wider, as if he had already expected that answer.

"It is funny, isn’t it?"

Ghost tilted his head slightly.

"What?"

Léo folded his arms, pretending to think deeply.

"I do not even know your name. Mom was asking too."

Ghost chuckled softly, the sound rare and light.

"What would you do with my name?"

Léo leaned closer, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret.

"Secretive, huh? I like it. It is cool."

Ghost shook his head faintly, but there was no real denial in his expression.

They moved closer to the small stall, standing near the edge of a group. Ghost ordered two cups of hot cocoa, his voice calm and steady. The vendor nodded and began preparing them, steam rising gently into the cool air.

It had been a strange day.

Coffee in the morning at the safehouse.

Two double shot espressos at the restaurant.

And now this.

Hot cocoa in the rain.

There was probably more caffeine in his body than adrenaline at this point, yet his senses remained sharp, his awareness intact.

The rain softened the world around him.

Everything felt slower.

Quieter.

Warmer.

Chloé stood a few steps away with her friends, completely unaware of the storm she created in someone else’s world. She spoke with ease, her voice carrying a calm rhythm that Ghost could not ignore even if he tried.

He took a sip of the cocoa.

Warm.

Sweet.

And her voice.

It was gentle.

Clear.

Alive.

His heart began to beat faster without permission, a strange reaction that had nothing to do with danger or combat.

A small, innocent smile appeared on his face before he even realized it.

Léo noticed.

Of course he did.

The boy nudged Ghost with his elbow, a teasing grin spreading across his face.

Before Ghost could react, a voice came from the side.

"Aren’t you two like buddies these days?"

The voice was soft.

Sweet.

Familiar.

Everything else faded.

Ghost turned.

Time slowed.

Chloé stood there, looking at them with a curious smile, her presence filling the space in a way that silenced everything else. The rain continued, people moved, the city breathed, but none of it reached him anymore.

Only her.

His heartbeat rose sharply, louder than the rain itself.

"Léo, you little troublemaker. Why do you keep running from me?"

Léo froze for a moment, caught completely off guard.

"Umm... Senior sister Chloé... I... I should go."

Before Ghost could even process it, the boy grabbed his cocoa and umbrella and bolted.

"Thanks for the treat, brother."

Ghost raised his hand instinctively.

"Hey, Léo..."

But the boy was already gone.

And just like that, silence took his place.

Ghost stood there, holding his cup, suddenly aware of the space around him.

"Umm... hello."

Chloé chuckled softly, her laughter light and unforced.

"Hey."

One of her friends leaned closer, eyes filled with curiosity.

"Your friend?"

Chloé nodded slightly.

"He is the one I told you about. The one who saved little Léo that day."

The girl’s expression changed instantly.

"Ohh. Hello dude. We have been hearing about you a lot recently."

Ghost shifted slightly, not entirely used to this kind of attention.

"Umm... ahh..."

Chloé smiled, her eyes carrying a playful spark.

"So, what is your name, superhero?"

Ghost blinked.

"Superhero?"

Chloé tilted her head slightly, as if the answer was obvious.

"What? You saved that boy and ran away when the police arrived."

She lifted her finger slightly, as if presenting a theory.

"There are two types of people who run from the police. One who committed a crime, and one who does not want to take any credit."

Ghost listened quietly, sipping his cocoa.

Chloé looked at him carefully.

"You do not look like a criminal to me."

A small pause.

"So you did not want the credit. That is what superheroes do."

One of her friends laughed lightly.

"Look at her. The superhero geek is active again."

Chloé placed her hand on her forehead, slightly embarrassed.

"Hey, do not make fun of it."

Ghost could not help but chuckle.

Her logic was simple.

Innocent.

And strangely... accurate.

He tilted his head slightly, his tone carrying a hint of curiosity.

"How are you so sure that I am not a criminal?"

Chloé blinked, surprised by the question.

"What? Are you?"

For a brief moment, silence settled between them.

The kind that carried weight.

Ghost looked at her.

Then he laughed.

"I am kidding."

Chloé let out a breath she did not realize she was holding.

"That was not funny."

There was a faint smile on her lips though.

She looked at him again, studying him more carefully now.

"Are you a relative of Léo or something?"

Ghost raised a brow slightly.

"A few days ago, you were at his café, talking to his mother."

Ghost’s eyes widened slightly.

"You saw that?"

Chloé nodded, a little sheepish now.

"Yes. I mean... it was a glass wall. I just got curious."

Ghost shook his head faintly.

"Not really. It was just a coincidence."

He took another sip.

"I was there for coffee. Just like today."

He glanced around briefly.

"I was in the market and he found me again."

Chloé smiled.

"So it is him."

Ghost tilted his head.

"Him?"

Chloé crossed her arms lightly, a playful expression on her face.

"Whenever I see him... I find you."

Ghost paused.

Then gave a small, almost awkward smile.

"Oh... that."

He looked away for a second.

"Just another coincidence, I guess."

Chloé shook her head slowly.

"No."

Her voice softened slightly.

"More like fate."

The word lingered in the air.

Ghost repeated it quietly, almost unconsciously.

"More like fate..."

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

The rain continued to fall.

The cocoa cooled slightly in their hands.

And somewhere between coincidence and fate...

Something unfamiliar had already begun.

The empty cups were tossed into the trash bin, the warmth of the cocoa fading slowly as the rain softened into a gentle drizzle. The air felt lighter now, the storm no longer pressing down on the streets with the same intensity. Small drops still fell from rooftops and umbrellas, tapping softly against the ground.

Chloé stretched her arms slightly, looking at her friends.

"Whose turn is it to pay today?"

One of the girls immediately reached into her backpack with confidence.

"It is mine..."

Her hand searched inside for a moment.

Then her expression changed.

"Oops... my wallet... I did not bring it."

There was a brief silence, followed by suppressed laughter from the group.

Ghost stepped forward without hesitation.

"Let me do it."

Chloé looked at him instantly.

"How can we let you?"

Ghost shook his head slightly, calm as ever.

"It is fine."

One of the girls waved her hand dismissively.

"Let him. We will treat him next time."

Another nodded in agreement.

"Yes, next time is ours."

Chloé frowned, clearly not pleased.

"How can you all be so... mean?"

Ghost smiled faintly.

"It is really fine."

The girls exchanged quick glances, their expressions carrying a different kind of excitement.

One of them leaned closer to another and whispered quietly.

"They look cute together, do they not?"

The other girl’s eyes sparkled.

"This is so exciting. I have never seen her talk to a boy like this. She is always so cold when it comes to boys."

Another quickly hushed them.

"Shhh... she will hear you."

Chloé sighed softly, still not entirely convinced.

"I am sorry... let me pay instead."

Ghost shook his head again.

"It is alright. I should repay you."

She blinked.

"For what?"

He took out his wallet, his voice calm.

"For running away that day and leaving everything to you."

A small smile appeared on her face.

"Then... thank you."

He paid for the drinks, the vendor nodding in appreciation. The moment passed simply, without any unnecessary attention.

Ghost glanced at his watch.

Time had moved quickly.

The rain had almost stopped now, only scattered drops falling from the sky.

"I should go."

His tone returned to its usual steadiness.

"I have work to do."

Chloé nodded, though there was a slight hesitation in her eyes.

"Oh... alright."

She took a small step forward.

"At least tell me your name before you go. I am Chloé."

Ghost looked at her for a moment, then shifted his gaze toward her friends.

A faint smirk appeared.

"I will tell you next time we meet."

He paused briefly.

"Like they said... you will treat me next time."

Chloé chuckled softly.

"You are funny."

Then her expression changed slightly, curiosity taking over.

"Wait... how will I find you?"

Ghost turned, his back already facing them.

His voice came calm and certain.

"Like you said... if it is fate, we will meet again, Chloé."

A brief pause.

"See you."

He walked away.

The drizzle blurred his figure slowly as he moved further into the street, disappearing into the quiet rhythm of the city.

"Bye bye, superhero."

The girls waved behind him, their voices light and teasing.

He did not turn back.

He simply vanished into the surroundings, as if he was never there.

One of the girls immediately turned toward Chloé, unable to hold back her excitement.

"Was he not so handsome?"

Chloé stood still for a moment, watching the empty street where he had disappeared.

She said nothing at first.

Then quietly...

"He looked... mysterious."

...

Present.

Pearl Villa.

Evening had settled gently over the house, but the rain was falling against the windows. The atmosphere inside was warm, filled with small, everyday sounds that carried comfort.

Hope and Asher sat at the table, completely absorbed in their own competition.

"I will finish first."

"No, I will."

Their pencils moved quickly across their notebooks, determination written all over their faces.

Daniel and Elena were not home yet, busy at the Atelier, ensuring everything ran smoothly as always.

Monica had not returned either.

Work held her longer than usual.

Miles sat in a quiet room.

Beside the bed.

Timothy Sterling lay there, still and silent, his breathing steady but distant, as if caught between worlds.

Nurse Maya adjusted the sheets one last time before stepping back.

"I will leave you two alone, boss."

She smiled gently.

"Talk to him. Sometimes... they can hear."

Miles nodded slightly.

Maya walked out, closing the door softly behind her.

Silence filled the room.

Miles looked at the old man.

For a moment, he said nothing.

Then quietly...

"Hey, grandpa..."

His voice was low, almost careful.

"It is the first time we are talking like this."

He pulled a chair closer and sat down, his gaze fixed on Timothy’s peaceful face.

"Maybe you can hear me."

A faint pause.

He exhaled slowly.

"But honestly... I think it is better if you cannot."

His fingers rested lightly on the edge of the bed.

"If you can hear everything... then you might feel how lonely it is."

His voice softened.

"How helpless it must be... to stay like this for years."

He shook his head slightly.

"I do not want that for you."

His eyes lowered for a moment.

"I do not remember much from when I was a child."

A faint smile appeared.

"But I know... you held me once."

His hand slowly reached forward, holding Timothy’s hand gently.

He looked at him again.

"I truly wish... you are just sleeping."

His voice grew quieter.

"Somewhere far away... having a peaceful dream."

"No pain."

"No regrets."

"But..."

His grip tightened slightly.

"If you can hear me..."

His eyes darkened just a little.

"Then there are things you should know."

He leaned back slightly, his voice steady now.

"The people who destroyed our family... I am dealing with them."

"One by one."

"I cleared father’s name."

A faint pride rested in his tone.

"After all these years."

"The business you built... from nothing..."

His gaze hardened with determination.

"It is back."

"Sterling Enterprises is rising again."

He paused.

"Chester Sterling... is dead."

"Kyle Sterling... is in a mental asylum."

A brief silence.

"Maybe he deserved worse."

His eyes turned colder.

"The Old Master from Crimson Island..."

"I ended him with my own hands."

The room felt heavier now.

"And now..."

His voice dropped.

"Rowan Mordecai..."

"He will spend the rest of his life on a bed."

"Lifeless."

A faint breath escaped him.

"And he will die... knowing he could not save his son."