Chapter 14: Otherwise what…?

The sun crept up quietly over the horizon as a new day began. After the brief visit to the hospital the day before, normalcy returned to the house—at least on the surface. For Miles, the next Chapter of his life started not with weapons or missions, but with textbooks and lecture halls.

Today, he would step into St. Patrick’s University, not just as a student, but as Celina Wraithbourne’s silent guardian—his role hidden behind casual smiles and lecture notes.

The morning routine moved like clockwork. Miles woke early, worked out, took a cold shower, and helped get the twins ready for school. He tied Hope’s shoes while Asher scrambled to zip his backpack. Elena had breakfast ready by the time they all gathered at the table—a simple, warm spread like always. There was a certain peace to it, the kind Miles had never known growing up.

After dropping the twins off at school, he returned home to change.

The outfit was something Elena had helped pick out during their shopping trip. She didn’t know the full story behind why Miles needed to go to college, but she did know enough to make one thing clear: “You’re not wearing anything sloppy. You’re not just any boy out there, you’re my son.”

So, Miles chose something modest and clean. A pair of dark slim-fit jeans, a cream-colored t-shirt, and a forest green flannel worn open over it. Nothing flashy, but everything fit just right. White sneakers—simple but fresh. His backpack looked like any other student’s, though its contents were far more precise. The outfit gave him the kind of look that blended in: mature, presentable, and completely unremarkable—exactly what he needed to be.

Elena walked with him to the door, adjusting the edge of his flannel out of habit. “You sure you don’t need me to drop you off?”

“I’ll take the bus,” Miles replied with a calm nod.

She smiled and gently touched his arm. “Well, good luck today. And don’t get into trouble.”

Miles gave her a small grin. “No promises.”

He stepped out, headphones tucked in his pocket, and walked down the lane under a soft blue sky. Just another college student boarding the public transport. Just another young man heading to class.

No one could’ve guessed that under that calm exterior stood the man once known only as Ghost.

As the city bus rolled to a smooth stop in front of St. Patrick’s University, Miles stepped out into the crisp morning air. The campus gates stood tall—arched wrought iron woven with ivy and polished brass initials glinting under the morning sun. Beyond them stretched a wide stone path leading into a picturesque courtyard. Fountains murmured softly, surrounded by trimmed hedges and seasonal blooms. Students filtered in from all directions—some walking in groups, others with coffee in hand, earbuds in, bags slung over one shoulder.

It was a typical morning here. Laughter echoed across the lawn. Conversations buzzed with energy. Some students rushed by, clutching books, late for class. Others leaned on benches, casually scrolling through their phones. Everyone had somewhere to be.

Miles passed through the gates with quiet steps. To anyone watching, he was just another transfer student. Nothing about his pace or posture gave away his true purpose here.

As he stepped into the academic building, the hallways opened into high ceilings, polished marble floors, and well-lit corridors filled with vibrant student life. Announcements crackled faintly through wall-mounted speakers. Posters for student councils, clubs, and upcoming events lined the bulletin boards.

While moving toward his assigned classroom, a shift in the atmosphere caught his attention. Coming from the opposite direction was a tall, well-dressed man in a tailored navy suit. Chairman Alder, the respected head of the university, was on his routine morning round. Professors and students alike greeted him as he passed, their tones respectful and slightly nervous. “Good morning, Chairman,” they said in chorus.

But the Chairman’s eyes weren’t on them.

They locked onto Miles—just for a brief moment.

Though the crowd buzzed around them, the space between the two men seemed to narrow.

Chairman Alder already knew who this young man was. Monica, the sharp and secretive woman who coordinated the deal behind the scenes, had informed him of everything. Miles Sterling wasn’t just a new student—he was now the silent owner of the university.

But there were instructions—clear, firm ones. No announcements. No favoritism. Do not interfere. Observe, assist quietly if needed, but never overstep.

As the two passed each other, their eyes met—the gaze of an old institution meeting the storm beneath calm eyes.

Then, with subtle grace, Chairman Alder offered a respectful bow, not deep, but unmistakably intentional.

Miles’s expression didn’t change, but he offered a small nod in return—a gesture just as calculated, just as reserved.

They said nothing.

But something unspoken passed between them.

And then, they each continued walking.

Two men of vastly different worlds, now bound by a quiet understanding.

Miles reached the classroom door. The day had just begun.

Miles stepped into the classroom.

Despite wearing casual attire—simple but neatly put together, thanks to Elena’s careful eye—there was no hiding what he was. His tall frame, the quiet confidence in his walk, the sharp cut of his jawline and piercing gaze—all of it carried the silent intensity of someone who had lived a life far beyond college corridors.

The classroom, filled with chatter and idle noise just moments before, fell into a sudden hush. Eyes turned.

Who is he…?

For a heartbeat, the silence spoke louder than any words. Heads tilted. Whispers stirred. Girls blinked twice, some nudging their friends discreetly.

“He’s so handsome…””Is he a model?” “New transfer?” “Never seen him before…”

But not all were impressed.

From the back rows, the murmurs took a sharper tone—entitled voices from the campus elite, cloaked in tailored clothes and inherited pride.

“Probably another scholarship charity case.” “Looks good, but let’s see how long he lasts here.” “Typical—one of those poor kids trying to look expensive.”

Miles heard none of it—or at least, he didn’t react. His face remained unreadable as he walked to the empty seat assigned to him.

Just then, the classroom door clicked again, and in walked Professor Harland, a man in his early 50s with wire-framed glasses and a voice that commanded attention with ease.

“Good morning, students.” The professor’s voice cut through the lingering whispers. “Before we begin, we have a new addition to our class.”

He glanced toward Miles with a welcoming smile.

“Everyone, meet Miles Sterling. He’s a transfer student and has joined us on a full scholarship. I expect you all to treat him with the same respect you give each other. Be friends, help him out if he needs anything.”

A few students exchanged glances—some polite, others clearly skeptical.

One voice in the back murmured just loud enough to be heard:

“Transferred student? When the course is almost over?”

Another leaned in, whispering with a tone of surprise,

“Full scholarship… really? How?”

Then a third chimed in with a mix of curiosity and disbelief,

“He’s in our class? Wow…”

Miles gave a faint, courteous nod to the room, saying nothing. His expression remained calm and unreadable—unfazed by the whispers swirling around him.

The day had only just begun.

Fortunately, the only seat that hadn’t been claimed was the one beside Celina Wraithbourne — the most talked-about girl on campus. Harold, the professor, gestured casually.

“Take that seat beside Celina, Miles.”

Celina looked up briefly. Normally, she hated sharing her space with anyone — especially boys. But this was different. This was Miles. Her friend. Her bodyguard. The only one she truly trusted right now. She adjusted her books slightly to make room without a word, a subtle nod acknowledging him.

Miles slid into the seat beside her with effortless calm.

Around the room, the shift in atmosphere was almost tangible.

Several boys stiffened — the ones who had spent months trying and failing to get so much as a smile from Celina. Jealousy burned in their eyes. One of them clenched his jaw, another muttered under his breath.

“Of course he gets to sit there…”

The rich kids, always quick to judge, narrowed their eyes. Their gazes swept over Miles’s clean but casual clothes, looking for signs of wealth — designer logos, high-end accessories. Finding none, they scoffed.

“Just a scholarship kid with a pretty face,” one of them whispered.”Bet he won’t last a week.”

Yet none of them could ignore the way Celina hadn’t protested.

Miles scanned the classroom calmly, his eyes passing over each face with quiet precision. Of course, he already knew them all — names, backgrounds, social standings, even rumored secrets. Monica had sent the files last night, neatly organized and annotated. From the entitled heirs of corporate dynasties to the silent achievers tucked in the corners, no one here was a stranger to him.

To them, he was just a new transfer. To him, this room was already mapped like a mission briefing.

The class began, and Miles leaned slightly forward, trying to catch up with the ongoing lecture. He wasn’t lost—his memory and intuition made absorbing information quick—but he wanted to understand the current flow naturally, as any student would. Hours passed with shifting subjects and occasional glances from classmates. Some still looked at him with interest, others with guarded curiosity.

When the lunch bell rang, students began filing out in noisy clusters. Miles rose quietly and exited, his steps light but purposeful. From a modest distance, he trailed Celina through the bustling corridor, eyes scanning and observing everything. His pace was unhurried, almost lazy to the unaware eye—but each movement was intentional.

In the cafeteria, Miles spotted her near a corner table. Celina was laughing softly, her posture relaxed, her voice more animated than he’d seen in class. She looked… different. More herself. Unlike her calm, polished classroom persona, here she radiated warmth and genuine ease.

She wasn’t alone. Two girls flanked her, clearly close—Becky and Rose. Both were from prominent families, well-connected with the Wraithbournes through long-standing business ties. The three of them had grown up together, and it showed. Their bond wasn’t forced or formal—it was rooted in trust, history, and loyalty.

Miles didn’t approach. He simply observed from a quiet spot, gathering everything—the expressions, body language, the subtle dynamics between the trio. For now, his role was to watch and protect. The rest would come in time.

Becky leaned in with a mischievous grin, resting her chin on her palm. “So, my dear Celina… I heard the new boy sat next to you. And you didn’t protest? What’s the story, hmm?”

Rose raised her eyebrows playfully. “Seriously! I wanna see this mystery guy. Who is this boy you couldn’t say no to? I need answers.”

Celina tried to keep a straight face, but her friends knew her too well. Though she have to keep the bodyguard part a secret, lying outright wasn’t something she could do to them—not Becky and Rose.

“You two… it’s not like that,” Celina said, trying to sound casual as she adjusted the straw in her drink. “It was the only seat left, that’s all. And besides… he’s a good person. I didn’t feel uncomfortable.”

Becky narrowed her eyes. “Huh? That sounds suspiciously soft for you, Celina. Since when does our cold campus belle not protest? You already knew him, didn’t you?”

“A campus belle bringing her secret love to school like it’s some undercover drama?” Rose gasped, dramatically clutching her chest. “It’s literally that show we were watching last night!”

Celina’s cheeks turned a faint pink. “It’s not like that! You can say… we’re friends. That’s all.”

“Oh-ho!” Becky smirked. “So what’s his name then, this good person you suddenly feel comfortable around?”

“He’s… Miles. Miles Sterling,” Celina replied. “He just came to the city recently. He’s living with his family here. I only met him during my morning walks at the park, that’s all.”

Rose and Becky exchanged knowing glances. Celina sipped her juice quickly, trying not to show how flustered she was becoming under their teasing eyes.

Miles sat alone at a round table in the bustling cafeteria, silently observing the students around him with a calm yet calculating gaze. His posture was relaxed, but every movement was deliberate — composed.

Suddenly, the air shifted as a boy from his class approached. Well-dressed, oozing entitlement, and flanked by two others, he stopped in front of Miles with a smug smirk.

“Hey, poor newbie,” the boy sneered, his voice loud enough to draw attention. “You better watch out for the consequences. Don’t even think about talking to her again… Otherwise—”

Miles slowly raised his eyes, gaze sharp and unreadable. He set his drink down and leaned slightly forward, voice quiet but heavy with weight.

“Otherwise what?”

There was no emotion in his tone — just cold steel. The kind that made your instincts scream before your brain could catch up.

The cafeteria, moments ago filled with chatter and laughter, fell eerily silent. Forks paused mid-air, conversations died, and eyes turned.

The tension was thick. Unmoving.

And Miles… didn’t blink.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep