The Retired Young Mercenary Is Secretly a Billionaire

Chapter 285 285: Father's Revenge!!

One day ago.

Night had settled over Vespera City like a velvet curtain, quiet on the surface yet hiding movements beneath that could change the fate of entire cities.

Inside his mansion, Jax Mordecai returned from work, loosening his collar as he walked down the dimly lit hallway toward his private room. His footsteps were steady, his expression calm, but his mind was already occupied with the plans he had set into motion.

His phone was pressed against his ear.

"Did you finish the paperwork?" Jax asked, his tone firm. "He should be out by morning."

On the other side, the lawyer responded confidently.

"Do not worry, sir. Everything is signed. I personally got it approved by the judge. Just make sure the gift reaches him."

Jax smirked faintly as he reached the door and pushed it open.

"I will take care of it," he replied. "Just ensure Dominic Cross is out by morning. He is important. He knows every corner of Star Harbor and has the resources I need."

He stepped inside.

Then stopped.

"Oh… we need Dominic Cross now."

The voice did not come from the phone.

It came from inside the room.

Jax's heart skipped for a fraction of a second.

His fingers froze.

Slowly, he ended the call.

The lights flicked on.

And there he was.

A man sat casually on his couch, leaning back as if he owned the place, a gun resting on the table beside him. His presence filled the room without effort.

Jax's breath caught in his throat.

Recognition struck instantly.

His lips parted, trembling.

"Y… you… are…"

But before the words could fully form, fear forced him to straighten his posture, forcing control back into his voice.

"Mr. Rehman…"

Rehman Nawwar looked at him and grinned.

"You are late," Rehman said casually. "I have been waiting for quite some time."

He leaned forward slightly, his eyes glinting.

"I even paid a visit to your poor father."

A chill ran through Jax's spine.

For a moment, he lost composure completely.

Then he forced himself to stand upright again.

"You could have called me," Jax said quickly, his tone submissive now. "I would have come to you instead. Please tell me, Mr. Rehman… how can I help you?"

Rehman tilted his head, amused.

"It is good that you know your place."

He rested his arm over the back of the couch, completely at ease.

"I have a shipment arriving at Star Harbor port. I want Dominic Cross to handle it."

Jax nodded instantly, almost too quickly.

"Of course. I have connections in the prison. It will be handled. I will take care of it right away."

Rehman watched him quietly for a moment, then spoke again.

"I also heard that Aveline is here."

Jax blinked.

"Oh… yes. She came to inspect a weapon."

Rehman's smile deepened.

"I heard that weapon is quite interesting."

Jax swallowed lightly.

"Yes… it is. But it requires my nephew to complete it. And he is currently being held… by someone."

Rehman's eyes sharpened slightly.

"Interesting."

Then, almost casually, he asked,

"Is it Miles Sterling?"

Jax froze.

The name struck him like a hammer.

His voice faltered.

"How… do you know?"

For a second, there was silence.

Then Rehman began to laugh.

Slowly at first.

Then louder.

The laughter filled the room, growing heavier, darker, almost unhinged.

Jax stood there, confused and uneasy, watching him without understanding.

Rehman finally leaned forward, his laughter fading into a grin.

"Consider yourself lucky… for two reasons, Jax."

Jax frowned slightly, his confusion deepening.

"Mr. Rehman… I do not understand."

Rehman stood up slowly, walking toward him with deliberate steps.

"I am going to Star Harbor tomorrow," he said, his voice lowering.

"To kill him with my own hands."

Jax's eyes widened.

Then, slowly, a faint smile crept onto his face.

"That is… good news," he said cautiously. "Do you also have a grudge against him?"

Rehman stopped just inches away.

"Grudge?"

His expression turned cold.

"There is blood between us."

His voice dropped into something far darker.

"I will take away every single happiness he has. I will make him watch it all… with his own eyes."

A pause.

"Then I will take his life."

Jax felt a chill crawl through his body.

He did not know what Miles had done to provoke such hatred, but one thing became clear.

This was not a simple enemy.

This was something far worse.

And yet, somewhere deep inside, Jax felt a twisted sense of satisfaction.

Miles was about to face something even he could not handle.

Rehman turned away slightly, then glanced back at him.

"Do you not want to know the second reason?"

Jax quickly nodded.

"Please tell me, Mr. Rehman."

Rehman stepped closer, placing a hand on Jax's shoulder.

The grip was light.

But it felt suffocating.

"I saved your life."

Jax blinked, confused.

"What do you mean?"

Rehman's smile widened.

"By not letting you go there alone."

Jax's confusion deepened into unease.

Before he could speak again, Rehman leaned closer and said quietly,

"Have you ever heard of the Ghost of the Graveyard?"

The room went silent.

Jax froze completely.

The present.

The battlefield had fallen into a strange silence, one that felt heavier than the chaos that came before. Dust still floated in the air, faint beams of light cutting through broken walls and shattered ceilings, creating shifting shadows that moved with every breath of wind.

An assassin stepped forward cautiously, his rifle raised, his eyes scanning every inch of the dark corridor.

"Where is he…" he muttered under his breath, his voice betraying the tension building inside him.

"I am here."

The voice came from behind him.

Close.

Too close.

The man spun instantly, his heart racing, his finger tightening over the trigger.

But there was no one.

His breath quickened.

He turned again.

Nothing.

Then the voice came again, from another direction.

"Where is your confidence now…"

The tone was calm.

Cold.

Familiar.

"I warned you… didn't I?"

The assassin's hands began to tremble. He turned left, then right, trying to locate the source, but the voice seemed to shift with the darkness itself, slipping between walls and shadows like something that could not be caught.

Fear took over.

He abandoned his combat stance and pulled out his gun, pointing wildly into the darkness.

"Come out!" he shouted, his voice cracking.

A faint sound of footsteps echoed.

Then silence again.

"Alas…" the voice continued, almost disappointed. "None of you took my warning seriously."

A pause.

"Did you really think retirement made me rusty?"

The assassin's breathing became erratic.

"I am not letting anyone walk away alive today…"

The voice lowered.

"You came into my peaceful life… so die."

Before the man could react, a hand appeared from the darkness.

His gun was caught mid motion.

A blade followed instantly.

A knife pierced straight through his neck, cutting deep, silencing his voice forever as blood erupted, spilling across the ground.

His body collapsed without resistance.

Miles stepped out from the shadows, his expression unreadable.

He lowered himself slowly to the floor, sitting against the cold concrete as his chest rose and fell heavily.

Sweat dripped down his face.

His body was reaching its limits.

"This is not working…" he muttered under his breath.

He looked ahead into the darkness.

"I have to go forward… I have to confront him."

…

Across the city, everything moved at once.

Engines roared.

Vehicles sped through the streets, weaving through traffic with urgency as agents reached the locations of the vans.

At one site near the port, an agent secured the rope and attached it to the vehicle.

Charles spoke through comms, his voice firm.

"We test one first. Move the van toward the port. Slowly."

"Copy that," the agent replied.

He signaled.

The vehicle pulled.

The van shifted.

Seconds passed.

"Three… four… five… six… seven…"

Nothing happened.

No detonation.

No reaction.

Charles exhaled slightly.

"I think we are good. Proceed with all vans."

Across the city, other agents responded in unison.

"Copy."

Engines started.

Ropes tightened.

Movement began.

Then suddenly, a voice cut through the comms, urgent and sharp.

"Abort. I repeat, abort."

Everything froze.

Monica stepped forward immediately.

"No one moves. Hold position."

Her eyes locked onto the feed.

"What is it?"

The agent inside the van near the Atelier spoke, his voice tense.

"We have a problem."

A pause.

"The detonation time has changed."

The room went silent.

"It is no longer set for one o'clock."

He swallowed.

"It is now twelve fifty."

Shock spread across the room.

"The dial system is not connected to time adjustment. It is connected to the engine. Every rotation reduces the time."

Charles clenched his fists.

"Damn it… there was a failsafe. We just lost ten minutes."

Monica's voice sharpened instantly.

"We do not have time for hesitation. The video loop will restart soon. If they see anything unusual, they will detonate remotely."

She turned to Charles.

"We need carrier tow trucks. All seventeen. Lift the vans. No wheel movement."

Charles nodded.

"I am contacting traffic control now."

Monica looked at the screens again, her expression hardening.

"We prepare for the worst."

…

Back at the battlefield.

Miles stood slowly, his breathing heavy but his eyes steady.

"Looks like… I have no choice."

He stepped forward into the open, his voice rising.

"I lose, Rehman."

His words echoed through the empty structure.

"You win."

A pause.

"Come and kill me."

His voice softened, but the weight behind it was undeniable.

"But disarm those bombs."

Another step.

"My life is nothing compared to thousands of innocent people."

He looked ahead, unwavering.

"I beg you."

For a moment, silence answered him.

Then laughter.

Cold.

Satisfied.

Rehman Nawwar spoke through the speakers.

"I like that face, Ghost. I have been waiting to hear this."

Miles lifted his head slightly.

His eyes had changed.

"I know people like you, Rehman."

His voice turned steady again.

"I know your father mattered to you."

A pause.

"But you are not here just for that."

He reached into his coat and pulled out his gun.

His gaze shifted slightly.

"You asked me to bring Kyle Sterling, didn't you?"

Rehman's voice sharpened.

"What are you trying to say?"

Miles turned slightly, his gun now pointing at the man tied to the chair.

"Jax."

His voice echoed.

"I know you are here."

From the shadows, Jax Mordecai stepped forward, panic flashing across his face.

"Hey… hey, what are you doing?"

Miles' expression did not change.

"Rehman… I killed your father."

His voice remained calm.

"And this man… killed mine."

He tightened his grip on the gun.

"You want me dead."

A pause.

The world seemed to stop.

Then.

A single gunshot rang out.

The bullet tore through the air.

And Kyle Sterling's body went still.

Silence followed by blood ..

Heavy.

Unbreakable.

To be continued…