The Retired Young Mercenary Is Secretly a Billionaire-Chapter 53: Legacy

The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime, revealing the top floor—sleek, quiet, and guarded by presence rather than people. The walls were matte black with bronze inlays, and soft overhead lighting bathed the corridor in a refined golden hue.

An assistant in a sharp grey uniform waited just outside.

"This way, please."

Miles gave a quiet nod and followed, June a step behind him, tablet pressed lightly to her chest.

They were led down a long hallway, past walls adorned with paintings of old military campaigns and photos of global projects under the Wraithbourne name—testaments to legacy, ambition, and control.

At the end stood a double oak door with an embossed phoenix insignia.

"Chairman is waiting inside."

The assistant opened the door.

Inside the Chairman’s Cabin – Victor Wraithbourne

The room was nothing like Miles expected. It wasn’t a throne.It was a war room.

Large, map-lined walls. An antique globe. A folded ceremonial flag in a glass case. Shelves of old files, not decorations.

Victor Wraithbourne sat behind the desk—tall, broad, weathered.

A man with salt-and-pepper hair brushed back and a jaw sharp enough to match the glint in his eyes. He wore no tie, only a black waistcoat and rolled-up sleeves, as if always halfway through business.

And as Miles stepped in, Victor’s gaze lifted.

For a moment, he didn’t speak.

Because weeks ago, the boy who had entered his home had carried the weight of blood and fire, haunted eyes, and a heart pulled from the shadows.

But the man standing before him now?

Powerful. Calm. Commanding.

No longer the lost son of Edward Sterling—but a man shaping his own legacy.

Victor smiled faintly.

"Come on in. Have a seat."

Miles stepped forward and took the leather chair in front of the desk.

June settled quietly beside him, silent but attentive.

Victor leaned forward, lacing his fingers.

"What’s the purpose of this official meeting, Miles? You could’ve just called. Or walked into the house."

Miles smiled lightly, respectful.

"It’s alright, Uncle Victor. I’m here... for business."

Victor’s eyes flicked with curiosity.

"Ah... I see."He leaned back, tapping a pen thoughtfully on the table."News of the Sterlings returning to business has been... shall we say, disruptive. Half the market froze when you made your move. You knew that, didn’t you?" ƒгeewёbnovel.com

Miles simply smiled—modestly, but meaningfully.

Victor chuckled under his breath."You’ve got some of your father in you, boy. He’d shake markets with a word too."

Then his voice shifted.

"Alright. Tell me. What kind of business are we here to discuss? I’m all ears."

Miles’s expression turned serious.

He met Victor’s eyes head-on."Uncle Victor... I heard you’re shutting down your arms and weapons division."A pause."I understand your reasons. I respect them. Truly. You’re doing it for Celina. You want to give her a future not tied to blood and conflict. I admire that."

Victor’s face remained unreadable.

Miles continued."That’s why I wanted to ask you something. Sell that division... to me."He leaned forward."You know that I can manage it. I can keep the power that division holds—controlled, clean, efficient. And out of her world."

Victor sighed, slowly closing his eyes.

He didn’t speak for a moment.

Then, in a voice laced with thought, he replied:

"Actually... I was thinking about that all night."

He stood and walked over to the glass window behind his desk, looking out over the city.

"Arms business isn’t just weapons. It’s relationships. Trust. Shadows. A mistake can set a country on fire. I had help. My father was in the military. He guided me. Taught me how not to drown in it. But now? He’s gone. I don’t even know where he is anymore."

He turned back around.

"And I don’t want Celina touching this world. Not even by accident."

A beat of silence passed. Then—

"To be honest, when I think about handing it over... you’re the only name that comes to my mind."

He walked back to his desk, leaning against it.

"But I’m torn, Miles. You’ve just stepped back into this world. You carry too much already. You’re... important to me. Almost like blood. That’s why I didn’t have the courage to even ask you."

Miles gave a small smile. His voice was calm, steady.

"I understand your care for me, Uncle. And I’m grateful for it. Truly. But I’ve lived in the shadows long enough to know how to hold them back. I can take this burden. I won’t let you down."

"Name your price. Whatever you think it’s worth. I’ll pay it. But trust me when I say this—I won’t disappoint you."

Victor looked at the boy—no, the man—before him.

And for the first time in a long while, he felt something rare:

Relief.

Because maybe, just maybe, his legacy was falling into the right hands.

Victor let out a long breath, the kind that carried the weight of years and the unspoken hope he rarely admitted aloud.

He straightened up, looked Miles in the eye.

"Fine."His voice was firm but warm."I trust you. Let’s prepare the deal. Officially."He extended a hand.

Miles took it immediately—grip steady, respectful.

Victor gave a nod."We’ll start the paperwork tomorrow. It’s already evening now, and I don’t want to rush something this important."

Miles smiled. "Of course, Uncle. Thank you. Really."

Then, with a sudden shift in tone, Miles glanced toward the side of the room—the door to the adjoining corridor.

"Now..." he said, amused,"Why don’t you come in, Miss Celina? You’ve been eavesdropping long enough. Might as well hear the details directly."

Victor blinked, surprised.

"What—?"

And then, right on cue, the side door creaked open.

Celina Wraithbourne stepped in, her posture casual but her face frozen mid-grin—like a thief caught red-handed. One hand was behind her back, her expression exaggerated with guilt.

"Oops... you caught me." she said sheepishly.

Victor narrowed his eyes. "You spoiled brat. "He didn’t sound angry—just mildly exasperated. "Don’t you know it’s unethical to peep into someone else’s meeting? This isn’t high school gossip, this is a corporate negotiation!"

Celina rolled her eyes with a laugh. "Sorry, Dad. I was just coming by to see you... but when your assistant mentioned Miles was here, I got curious. "She shrugged. "Couldn’t help myself."

Victor sighed, rubbing his forehead like a man who’d had this kind of conversation many, many times. "You need to learn corporate ethics."

Celina crossed her arms, feigning innocence. "Ethics are boring. Besides, I just thought we could go home together. But—" she looked at Miles and the folder still on the desk, "—turns out this little chat turned into something quite... historic."

Miles chuckled. "Too late, Celina. I already made the deal."

"Yeah, I figured." she said, walking over beside her father. "Thanks for showing up, though. Dad didn’t want to hand this over to just anyone. He was going to bury it instead. But that idea’s been eating him alive. "She gave Victor a side glance. "So I came to give him company. Make sure he didn’t suffocate under all that ’tough decision’ weight."

Victor, caught in the middle of his daughter’s teasing and Miles’s calm intensity, couldn’t help but smile—a rare one, the kind that didn’t come from business success or political victory.

He looked at Celina—his headstrong, sharp daughter—and then at Miles—the boy with a dark past who now stood as a man of legacy and promise.

Something in his chest lightened.

"You two... you’re going to turn this damn world upside down." he muttered.

And for the first time in weeks, he didn’t feel tired.

The air in the room had softened—business tension faded, replaced by something warmer. More human.

Miles stood from his chair and adjusted his sleeves.

"Alright, Uncle Victor. I should leave now. Let’s go over the paperwork tomorrow. Take your time."

Victor nodded, the corner of his lips lifting.

"Take care, Miles. And... thank you for showing up. You didn’t have to. But I’m glad you did."

Miles bowed his head slightly—a respectful nod, more old-fashioned than corporate.

"You’ve done more for me than I can say."He turned to leave.

June followed quietly behind, tapping out follow-ups on her tablet. As they reached the door, Miles glanced over his shoulder—his tone suddenly casual and teasing.

"Well then, I’ll leave you to your father-daughter time. Don’t let her bully you too much, Uncle."

Celina laughed, stepping forward with her arms folded.

"I make no promises. "She offered Miles a warm smile—gentle, genuine. "Take care, Miles. Good night."

He nodded once more, eyes meeting hers briefly—just long enough to say something without words—and exited the room with June.

The door clicked shut, leaving the office in a brief silence. The faint sounds of the city filtered through the panoramic glass windows—soft, distant, almost reverent.

Victor stood still for a moment, his gaze still on the door where Miles had exited.

Then, he spoke—not with amusement, but with admiration.

"Looks like that boy’s going to have the whole damn world one day."

Celina stepped beside him, her arms still folded.

She watched the reflection of the elevator lights across the distant building windows, her voice soft but confident.

"What do you know... maybe he already does."

Victor turned his head slightly, looking at his daughter—noticing, for the first time in a while, how she looked when she spoke of him.

And for just a second, he smiled.

Not the Chairman of Wraithbourne.

But a father—grateful.

Miles drove alone, one hand resting lightly on the steering wheel, the other tapping quietly on the window. His gaze was locked ahead, but his mind was elsewhere—deep in the spiraling paths of strategy, legacy, and the war that tomorrow might spark.

From behind the windshield, the world passed in streaks of white and red light—quiet, blurred, almost surreal.

The voice of Victor, the words of Celina, and the fire in his own chest echoed softly beneath his calm surface.

Tomorrow... would be a big day.

For Stone Enterprises, for the name Sterling, and for the balance of power that had long been tilted in silence.

And as the air grew colder, the night felt heavier.

Miles turned into the quiet street. The house lights were still on—a warm yellow glow spilling through the curtains like safety in a storm.

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