The Retired Young Mercenary Is Secretly a Billionaire-Chapter 57: The Revenge

Next Morning — Star Harbor in Turmoil

The usually bustling Star Harbor Business District was drowning in tension. Rumors had spread like wildfire overnight.

Stone Enterprises’ twin mega-projects, once a symbol of rebirth, were now the epicenter of scandal.

News outlets camped outside their building. Angry murmurs filled investor group chats. PR teams scrambled to deflect the headlines. The legal division had gone into overdrive, trying to pre-empt subpoenas and quell police involvement.

Some investors pulled out.Others demanded emergency meetings.Loan sharks began circling like vultures, calling in debts early.Whispered doubts spread through the workers:"What if the money dries up?""What if the whole thing gets shut down?"

Tension. Everywhere.

Star Central Mall – Private Meeting Room

Inside a quiet, temperature-controlled conference room, Gibson Winstone and Elfric Willise sat side-by-side in heavy silence.

No assistants. No advisors. Just the deafening tick of the wall clock.

They had spent the entire night rehearsing explanations, building narratives, preparing half-truths and contingency plans.

Then...

The glass door opened with a quiet hiss.

And she walked in.

Monica’s Entrance

Monica, the iron will behind Reaper Entertainment, entered with a calm that suffocated the room.

Her aura was unmistakable—an elegant black blazer with a subtle crimson pin, her posture impossibly straight, her eyes sharp and emotionless, like they had already seen ten moves ahead.

She wasn’t just powerful. She was terrifyingly composed.

Behind her walked a man in his late 30s—Reaper’s chief legal aide—carrying a leather folder filled with documents.

Gibson and Elfric shot to their feet, their bravado from yesterday completely gone.

They bowed slightly, voices almost overlapping.

"Good morning, Miss Monica."

Monica didn’t return the greeting.

She walked to the head of the oval conference table, placed her tablet gently down, and took a seat. The man behind her mirrored her actions—remaining standing just to her side like a silent sentinel.

Her eyes, calm but piercing, scanned both men across the polished table. She didn’t blink. She didn’t speak immediately.

The silence was loud.

Gibson’s throat tightened.Elfric fidgeted under the table, hands sweaty.

Monica finally spoke—each word controlled, ice-laced and precise.

But that comes next...

The room went still. The air thickened with a tension so sharp, even the whirring of the ceiling fan felt intrusive.

"I don’t need to ask you what happened..." Monica’s voice was calm but steel-lined. Her eyes pinned both men in place."Explain."

Gibson sat forward, forcing a strained smile."Miss Monica, this is all a setup. A fake video. The Sterlings are trying to frame us because they couldn’t get the project—"

"Fake, you say?" Monica interrupted, slowly turning her head toward the man standing beside her.

The man gave a silent nod. Without a word, he reached into his briefcase, pulled out a polished USB drive, and plugged it into the conference room’s main console.

The screen on the wall flickered, then displayed the first video.

"This is the same drone footage revealed by Sterling Media yesterday," the man explained flatly.

The aerial view followed a black car trailing down the Cinder Square boulevard.Frame by frame, the feed tracked the vehicle through multiple camera angles—from high-altitude drones to low-flying surveillance cams.

It parked.

A man stepped out.Face clearly visible.

He walked, unnoticed, into the building.

The next cut: the same man exiting the Sterling Enterprises building with documents in hand. Then, later—entering Stone Enterprises.

Gibson’s heart dropped.Elfric’s face went pale. His hand instinctively pulled at his collar.

"Miss Monica—please," Gibson began, his voice hoarse, "this is a deepfake—a manipulated video. I swear, we’ve never seen that man before in our lives."

"Exactly," Elfric added hastily. "This is an attack. A calculated attack. We never let anyone like that into our building. This is all Sterling’s doing!"

The man beside Monica didn’t flinch.Instead, he calmly queued the next video.

Traffic Camera Compilation – Playback

"This is raw footage from the Department of Transport," the man said coldly."Unedited. Timestamped."

One by one, traffic cam videos began playing.

The same black car cruised through the city.One angle showed it leaving Cinder Square. Another captured it at a signal junction. A third—clear as daylight—had it pulling toward Stone Enterprises.

The timeline was airtight.

Their entire defense disintegrated in front of them.

Gibson’s jaw trembled.Elfric leaned back, stunned, throat dry, unable to form words.

"Miss Monica... please..." Gibson finally croaked, voice cracking like old wood."Give us one more chance. We... we didn’t know. We’ve made mistakes—but if this contract gets canceled, our company will collapse. We’ll be on the street."

Monica didn’t move.

She let the silence stretch like a blade against their necks.Then finally, with arctic calm, she spoke.

"Did you just ask me for another chance... after lying to my face?"

Her tone never rose. But her words struck like hammers.

"Reaper entrusted you with a multi-billion project. You committed fraud. And when confronted, you chose deception over accountability."

She turned to the man beside her.

"Read it."

He opened the leather folder, pulling out the copy of the signed contract.

"Clause 8," he read aloud, professionally detached.

"If Party B is found engaging in any form of illegal activity, Party A reserves the right to immediately terminate the contract without notice. Party A shall not be held liable for any damages or losses incurred by Party B as a result of said termination."

He closed the folder.The room felt colder now.

"The contract is cancelled." Monica declared, final and unforgiving.

Both men stiffened like statues. Eyes wide.Gibson’s knees weakened.Elfric’s breath caught in his throat.

Monica stood.

"However..." she added, pausing at the edge of the table, "there is someone... who might be able to help you... save yourselves."

Their eyes flicked up, confused.

Then the door creaked open behind Monica.

Footsteps.

Slow. Heavy.

A shadow spilled across the marble tiles.

They turned—just in time—to see who had come to collect the debt.

The tension in the room was so dense it could be sliced with a blade.

The door opened with an audible hiss.

Miles Sterling entered.

Right behind him walked June, tablet in hand, her face unreadable, cool as steel.

At the sight of him, Gibson Winstone and Elfric Willise jerked back in shock. Their chairs creaked as they half-stood, eyes wide with disbelief.

"You...?!" Gibson hissed."Why are you here?"

Miles walked forward without a smile. Without a blink.

His presence was colder than winter rain.

"Come now... Uncle Gibson, Uncle Elfric," Miles said, his voice low and controlled, each word heavy."Surely, you know why I’m here."

He stepped beside Monica.

"I’m here... to collect a debt."He looked directly at them."I’m here to take back what was stolen from my father."

His voice didn’t rise.But it carried the wrath of seventeen years of silence.

Monica’s eyes met his.A silent exchange.She gave a respectful nod, and gently stepped aside—letting Miles take center stage.

He seated himself with quiet authority, crossing one leg over the other.June stepped forward, handing a thick folder across the polished table.

"While you were busy trying to survive the chaos," Miles said coldly, "we were calculating."

He opened the folder.

"Your investors have already pulled out.""Loan sharks are waiting outside your office.""Your contracts are void.""Your projects are cancelled."

He leaned forward slightly.

"There is nothing you can do."

Then came the blade.

"Not even the Old Master will help you."His eyes darkened."You’re of no use to him anymore."

The two men sat frozen—faces drained of color, lips twitching, sweat forming like dew on glass.

Gibson’s pupils shrank. His breathing grew shallow. The power he once held in his voice was replaced by disbelief... and fear.

Elfric gripped the table, knuckles pale.This wasn’t a business loss.

This was a public execution.

They looked down at the documents Miles slid across the table.

An offer.

Or a final sentence.

"Sign this," Miles said, voice like a ticking clock, "and give me everything you took from my father."

The folder sat there, thick with finality.

Their hands moved slowly at first—but desperation took over.

They signed.They didn’t even read it.They just wanted to survive.

Gibson and Elfric sat frozen, the weight of their signatures still fresh on the documents in front of them. Their hands had barely left the paper when Miles leaned back in his chair, eyes cold, expression unreadable.

"You won this time, Miles," Gibson hissed through clenched teeth, trying to mask desperation behind a trembling voice, "but don’t think this is over. We’ll come back."

Elfric gave a faint, hollow nod, as if echoing that threat might delay the storm.

They turned, ready to leave with whatever shred of dignity they could salvage.

But then—

Miles’s voice cut through the silence.

"Where do you think you’re going?"

Their steps halted like statues hit by lightning.

"You forgot what happened to my father," Miles said, his tone lowering like a gavel. "You forgot what you did to him after you set him up. Did you think I came here just for business?"

Gibson turned slowly, the color draining from his face.

Elfric’s lips parted, but no sound came.

Miles didn’t look at them.

He simply nodded once.

June stepped forward. She tapped a few keys on her tablet.

The wall screen lit up.

BREAKING NEWS – STERLING MEDIA LIVE BROADCAST

The Sterling Media logo pulsed on the massive screen.A newscaster’s voice filled the room, clear and thunderous:

"What you’re about to see is footage obtained exclusively by Sterling Enterprises from an encrypted storage within the now-defunct Merlin Media network."

"The footage reveals undeniable proof: seventeen years ago, Edward Sterling, former owner of the original Sterling Empire, was set up for corporate fraud by two then-junior board members—Gibson Winstone and Elfric Willise. The evidence reveals they fabricated financial leaks and manipulated legal documents to collapse the empire from within."

"Edward Sterling’s name is now being cleared of all wrongdoing posthumously, as Sterling Media prepares to deliver this footage to national authorities for legal proceedings."

A still image filled the screen:A paused frame from the footage—Gibson and Elfric, younger but unmistakable, shaking hands with a known shell operator.Edward Sterling, unaware, was seen signing a document in the background.

Then the headline burned in red across the screen:

"Justice After Seventeen Years: Edward Sterling Framed by Winstone & Willise"

Gibson stumbled backward, knocking over the glass of water behind him.

"...No... No, no, no..." he muttered, eyes wide, voice lost.

Elfric stared at the screen, his face twitching, jaw slack, as if the truth had turned his insides to ash.

Every breath they took felt heavier. Every word spoken on the screen struck like a hammer to the ribs.

Gibson’s voice cracked—"That footage... How did—how did they...?"

"Elfric—say something—this can’t—this can’t be—"

But Elfric couldn’t speak.

He simply looked at Miles, the boy they once ruined, now a man with the world behind him... and their downfall in his hands.

Miles – Calm Fury

Miles stood.

He walked slowly toward them. Every step echoed louder than the last.

"You took everything from my father," he said, tone cold and steady. "You buried his legacy. You lied to the world. And now?"

He glanced back at the screen.

"I’ve just given the truth back to the world."

Gibson collapsed into the chair, head in hands, breathing ragged.

Elfric still stood, frozen in humiliation and fear.

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