Chapter 9: A Picture.

Miles stared at her, the words still echoing in his mind.

“University…?” he repeated, disbelief laced in his tone.

Celina’s expression didn’t change. If anything, it grew more serious.

“I want you to be my bodyguard.”

Miles blinked once. Twice. “Your what?”

“My bodyguard,” she said again, calmly. “Undercover. As a student.”

He let out a short, humorless breath. “You’re joking.”

“I’m not.”

Miles leaned back against the bench, folding his arms. “Why? What kind of trouble is the Wraithbourne heiress getting herself into?”

Celina’s voice lowered slightly, eyes flicking away, then back. “I’ve been into a lot of trouble lately… real trouble.”

There was a pause. Then she added, her voice steady but cold: “I was almost attacked by acid last week.”

Miles’ eyes narrowed instantly. “What?”

“In my classroom,” she continued, calmly, though her jaw tightened. “In front of everyone. The guy walked in dressed like a regular student. He wasn’t even enrolled. No one noticed until he pulled out the vial. Fortunately… he slipped before he could do it. My security tackled him before it got worse.”

Miles didn’t speak. His jaw clenched.

“He’s in custody now,” she went on. “But that’s just one of many incidents. I’ve been followed. Threatened. Some of the sons of rival families won’t take ’no’ for an answer… and some of them have more money than morals. I need someone inside. Someone they won’t expect.”

She looked at him now, directly. “Someone like you.”

Miles raised an eyebrow. “So basically… you want a shield. Someone who can absorb the impact before it hits you. Like, say, acid reaching me before it reaches you.”

She didn’t flinch. “If that’s how you see it.”

He shook his head slowly, tone sharp with sarcasm. “And getting targeted by your wealthy stalkers is just a bonus, huh?”

Miles furrowed his brow, eyes sharp. “What made you think I can do this?” he asked, testing her — wanting to know if she really knew who he was.

Celina’s gaze softened, a distant look settling in her eyes. “There’s a picture on my father’s office desk — a photo he’s kept for so many years. It’s from his high school days, his closest circle of friends. Five of them, all best buddies.”

She paused, voice barely above a whisper. “Unfortunately, only one of them is still alive — my father. The others… they all died, one by one, seventeen years ago. A hell of a coincidence.”

Celina’s fingers tightened into a fist as she recalled. “I saw my dad once, emotional, staring at that picture. He told me their story when I was a kid. Yesterday, when I saw you step forward for that woman and her children — the way you handled those police officers, the strength, the calm — you were so young, yet you lifted one officer by his neck, snapped his handgun in two.”

She glanced up, locking eyes with Miles. “I was driving by with my dad. I couldn’t stop… but your face — it looked so much like a man in that picture. Edward Sterling.”

Miles’ breath caught.

Miles’s body stiffened, his eyes narrowing as the name echoed in his mind — Edward Sterling. It was a name he’d always carried silently.

His jaw clenched, a shadow passing over his face. The weight of that name wasn’t just a memory; it was the anchor of all his pain. He knew — he knew — Edward Sterling was his father. The man whose death had shattered his world, which had left his mother to fight alone against a cruel fate.

A flood of blurry images flickered behind his eyelids: a small boy clutching a faded photograph, a man in a dark suit smiling with tired eyes, a silent house filled with echoes of loss.

He swallowed hard, struggling to hold onto those fragile memories — fragments lost in time but never erased.

His voice was barely a whisper, rough with emotion. “Edward Sterling… My father.”

He looked at Celina, searching her face for answers — for a connection that might help piece together the puzzle of his past, and maybe, just maybe, offer a glimpse of hope for the future.

“When you told me your name this morning, I put it together. He was your dad, wasn’t he?”

Miles nodded solemnly. “Yes. He was.”

Miles stared ahead, the weight settling on him. “I don’t remember him… just blurry images. Shadows from a past I buried.”

Celina looked at Miles, her expression unreadable, almost blank.

“I know you were just a kid back then,” she said softly, “but he was your father. So here’s the deal — I have only one month left at university. Help me out, and I’ll get you a copy of a file my dad has — years of investigations, all of it.”

She paused, eyes locking with his. “Consider it friends helping each other.”

Miles raised an eyebrow, skeptical. “Friends?”

Celina smiled slightly, teasing. “Are we not? We just ran a lap together, didn’t we?”

Miles sighed, running a hand through his hair. “So, that’s all you know about me?” he asked, a hint of challenge in his voice.

“Who do you think I am? A stalker?” Celina shook her head, amused. “I just saw you yesterday. Even my dad doesn’t know about this meeting.”

Miles smirked. “Really? Then what about those three men secretly watching us all the time, huh? Aren’t they your people?”

Celina’s eyes widened, a flicker of surprise crossing her face. “Who are you, Miles? How did you know?”

He grinned, teasing, “I’ve got eight senses.”

She laughed softly. “Well, that makes you the perfect bodyguard then. “She lowered her voice, “And don’t worry, they’re on my side. They don’t tell my dad everything.”

She looked at him expectantly. “So… will you be my bodyguard?”

Miles hesitated, weighing the offer. Helping her meant uncovering more about his father — and maybe, finally, some answers.

He nodded slowly. “Alright. I’m in.”

Celina raised an eyebrow, folding her arms as she studied him. “So, what do you really do, Miles? You don’t look like the typical student type. Dropout? Underground boxer or something?”

Miles chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Not really. I just returned to the city last week. The woman and children you saw with me yesterday? That’s my family.”

Celina’s eyes widened slightly, a flicker of surprise and curiosity crossing her face. “Your family?” she repeated quietly, processing the weight behind his words.

“Yes, she is my mom.”

Miles didn’t say anything more. “So, when do I start?”

Celina glanced at her watch. “It’s the weekend starting tomorrow, and today’s my day off. You can start on Monday.”

She pulled out her phone. “Give me your number. I’ll send you all the details. Admission process will be taken care of—you’ll be a transfer student.”

He took out his phone—a simple, unassuming device—and handed it to her. “Here it is.”

The sun was rising, casting a soft golden glow over the city streets.

Celina looked at him. “Wait, Miles… let me drop you home.”

He nodded, accepting the offer without hesitation.

They walked together to her car parked nearby—a sleek, black luxury sedan with tinted windows and a subtle emblem gleaming on the hood, the kind of vehicle that spoke quietly but confidently of power and prestige. The leather seats inside were immaculate, the interior modern and refined, blending comfort with elegance.

Celina slid into the driver’s seat, and Miles took the passenger side.

The engine purred smoothly to life, and they pulled away, the city waking up around them as they headed toward Miles’s home.

They reached Miles’s home — a modest, peaceful place tucked away from the city noise. It wasn’t extravagant by any means, but it carried a quiet warmth, a sense of being lived in, loved, and fought for. A small garden lined the front, and the house itself bore the kind of wear that came from real life — not luxury, but honesty.

Celina sat in the driver’s seat, looking at the house with subtle surprise. It was clear she hadn’t expected this — not from someone like him. There was no armed guard, no steel gates. Just a home. Real, grounded.

Miles stepped out of the car, his hand on the door. “See you on Monday then,” he said with a small nod.

But before Celina could even respond, the front door burst open.

“Big broooooo!!”Asher came running out barefoot, eyes lit up with joy, and leapt into Miles’s arms.

Miles caught him effortlessly, laughing as Asher clung to him like a monkey.

Celina, still seated in the car, blinked—then smiled. A soft, genuine smile. “He’s adorable…” she whispered under her breath.

She rolled down the window. “Hello, sweetheart! What’s your name?”

Asher turned toward her with curious eyes and the most innocent grin.”My name is Asher!” he chirped proudly.

Celina chuckled. “I’m Celina. You can call me Big Sis.”

“Hello Big Sis!” Asher beamed, waving with both hands.

Celina laughed softly, genuinely touched. “See you later, Asher.”

She drove off slowly, her smile lingering as she glanced at them once more in the rearview mirror.

Inside the house, Miles carried Asher on his shoulder, walking through the door like a returning hero.

Hope saw them and squealed in delight. “Big brooo!!” she cried and rushed forward.

Miles bent down as Hope wrapped her arms around his waist. He picked her up with the other arm, both kids now clinging to him, laughing.

Elena’s voice called from the kitchen, warm and filled with love. “Breakfast is on the table! And you two — you have school!”

The twins groaned in unison. “I don’t wanna go,” Asher muttered, burying his face in Miles’s shoulder. “Me too,” Hope echoed, clinging tighter.

Miles knelt with them in his arms. “Hey,” he said gently, “you’ll be back by afternoon, right?”

They nodded slowly.

He smiled. “Good. Because after that… we’re playing all evening. Deal?”

“Deal!!” both shouted.

Miles laughed, setting them down and ushering them toward the dining table, the morning filled with warmth, joy, and the soft clatter of breakfast dishes — the sound of family healing.

…

Miles walked hand-in-hand with Hope and Asher down the school sidewalk, the morning sun casting a soft glow over the neighborhood. His broad shoulders, calm demeanor, and protective presence made him hard to miss — especially among the other parents bustling around the school gates.

The moment he stepped onto the school grounds, a noticeable shift occurred.

Conversations among the waiting mothers slowed. A few even stopped mid-sentence. Eyes casually drifted toward him — some pretending to adjust their sunglasses, others peeking over their coffee cups.

Miles, in his fitted black jacket and dark jeans, looked nothing like the typical dad. He was tall, quietly confident, with that unbothered intensity in his eyes. The kind that made people wonder where he came from… and what he’d been through.

One mother nudged another. “Is he new here?” “I don’t know, but… wow,” whispered another, eyes following him like he was walking in slow motion.

Miles, of course, didn’t seem to notice — or care.

He knelt down to straighten Asher’s collar and gently fixed the strap on Hope’s backpack. “Alright, you two — be good, okay?” he said, brushing Hope’s hair back behind her ear.

“Okay! Big bro” they both grinned.

He gave them each a soft forehead tap with his knuckle and watched as they ran off toward the school entrance, giggling and waving.

From across the fence, a group of moms watched in admiration — and not just because he was handsome.

“He looks like a big brother from a drama series,” one of them murmured, half-laughing, half-swooning.

As Miles turned to leave, he caught a few of their gazes and gave a small, polite nod.

The effect was instant — a couple of them straightened up and smiled like teenagers.

But Miles? He just walked away with his hands in his pockets, his mind already elsewhere — Monday, Celina, Edward Sterling, and the long road ahead.

Miles stepped into the house, the door closing softly behind him. The air inside was calm, filled with the faint smell of morning tea and warmth of familiarity. Elena sat on the couch, folding laundry with soft, absent-minded movements.

He walked over and sat beside her, sinking into the old cushions. There was a moment of silence before he spoke.

“Mom,” Miles said, his voice calm. “I’m… going to college.”

Elena paused mid-fold. “What?”

He glanced at her, a small smile tugging at his lips. “It’s just for one month. A short course. At St. Patrick’s University.”

Elena stared at him, stunned — blinking as if trying to see if he was joking.

“College?” she said, then laughed — not in disbelief, but in joy. “God, I never thought I’d hear those words. I’m so proud of you, sweetheart.”

She reached out and cupped his cheek with one hand, her eyes misting just a little. “Even if it’s short, it means a lot.”

Miles smiled and leaned into her touch. He didn’t say anything about Edward. Not yet. Some truths were still too heavy to bring to light.

Just then, a soft vibration buzzed from the inside pocket of his coat. He pulled out his secret device.

He stepped away and answered quietly. “Monica?”

Her voice came through, crisp and low.“Boss, someone just tried to access your facial data in the government records.”

Miles’s eyes darkened. “What? Who?”

“A low-level office clerk in the Town Hall’s registry department. We’re digging into who gave the order. But there’s more—”

She paused.

“Your file is sealed. Red-seal status. Presidential order. Whoever tried to peek didn’t just hit a wall, they hit an alarm. Now it’s bouncing up the chain.”

Miles let out a slow breath, jaw tightening. “Unfortunate… for them.”

“We’ll trace the source,” Monica added. “But someone’s either desperate or very curious.”

“Keep me updated,” Miles said, ending the call.

He slipped the device back into his coat and turned around. Elena was still smiling, humming softly as she folded a tiny shirt — probably Asher’s.

Miles watched her for a second, the storm of his past brewing behind calm eyes.

College… family… sealed files…The game was already in motion.

Elena looked up from the laundry, her brow furrowing slightly. “You alright, Miles? You went quiet all of a sudden.”

Miles blinked, then forced a gentle smile as he came back to the present.”Yeah, Mom. Everything’s fine,” he said softly, sitting back down beside her. “Just… thinking.”

Elena watched him for a moment, her motherly instincts sensing something beneath the surface, but she chose not to press. Instead, she smiled and nudged his arm.

“Well then, Mr. College Student, how about a reward?”

Miles raised an eyebrow. “Reward?”

Elena grinned. “Let’s go shopping tomorrow. Just the two of us. We’ll pick out some clothes that actually make you look like a student.”

Miles chuckled. “What’s wrong with what I wear?”

“Nothing,” she smirked. “If you’re trying to scare professors.”

He laughed, a real one this time. The tension melted, even if just for a moment.

“Alright, shopping it is,” Miles said. “But I’m not trying on more than three shirts. Deal?”

Elena gave him a playful glare. “You’ll try on ten. And that’s final.”

He rolled his eyes with a smirk. “Fine… but you’re buying the coffee after.”

She reached out and took his hand, squeezing it.”Deal.”

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