The Retired Young Mercenary Is Secretly a Billionaire -
Chapter 43: June
Chapter 43: June
The late afternoon light streamed across Miles’s desk as he finished reviewing a few digital documents on his tablet. The silence was comfortable, broken only by the soft hum of the ceiling fan above. He leaned back in his chair and placed a call.
The response was immediate.
"Yes, boss," came Monica’s familiar voice, crisp and teasing as ever. "I see you’ve stirred quite the chaos in Star Harbor."
Miles’s lips curled slightly. "They haven’t seen real chaos yet."
Monica laughed lightly. "That’s the Miles I know. But tell me—how are you really holding up? This is the first time you’ve personally stepped into the frontlines of business."
"That’s why you’re sending me an assistant, right?" he replied smoothly.
"Hah. Some things really don’t change," she said, amusement in her voice. "You still hate paperwork. I swear your brain’s wired for strategy, not spreadsheets."
"You always knew," Miles said, glancing at his watch. "Is she here yet?"
"Almost. She’s already on the flight. Touchdown in about an hour. Head to the office—she’ll meet you there."
"And the penthouse?" he asked.
"Taken care of. The one I bought when you first came to Star Harbor. She’ll be staying there—fully furnished, prepped, and secure."
Miles nodded. "Good. Anything else?"
Monica paused, then added gently, "Just remember... this isn’t a battlefield, but it can be just as ruthless."
Miles gave a short exhale. "I know. That’s why I’m bringing my own people into play."
"Understood," she said. "You’ll like her—sharp, disciplined, trained under me personally. Try not to scare her off on the first day."
"Can’t promise anything."
Monica laughed. "I’ll handle the rest on my end. Good luck, boss."
The call ended, leaving only the quiet hum of the city outside.
Miles stood, adjusting the cuffs of his shirt. It was time to meet the first official addition to the rebirth of the Sterling Empire.
As Miles’s car glided to a stop in front of the grand gate of Cinder Square, the towering centerpiece of the city pulsed with energy and prestige. The moment he stepped out, the atmosphere subtly shifted.
Receptionists at the lobby front desk stood with a straightened posture, offering polite bows. A few employees on coffee breaks paused mid-conversation, their eyes drawn to the man in the crisp black shirt and charcoal slacks who now walked past them with calm authority. Some whispered, heads slightly turning as they nudged each other:
"That’s the chairman...""He’s so young...""That’s Miles Sterling?"
Miles acknowledged them with a gentle nod, never stopping, never losing stride. His presence didn’t demand attention—it commanded it.
He entered the elevator, pressed the button for the 32nd floor, and waited as the polished metal doors slid shut.
The elevator chimed.
Stepping out, Miles was greeted with the pristine silence of a freshly furnished floor. The old operational hub of Cinder Square had already moved down to the 25th level, leaving the topmost floors to become the future nerve center of the Sterling Empire.
Polished marble floors stretched beneath his feet, the gentle scent of new leather and mahogany lingered in the air. Several executive cabins lined the hallway, each one glass-walled and subtly marked. But at the very end—bathed in natural light—stood a single door.
On its surface, mounted proudly in gold-plated lettering, was a sleek black plaque:
CHAIRMANMiles Sterling
Miles smiled faintly. He stepped forward and entered the passcode: 7777.
The lock beeped and clicked open.
He pushed the door gently.
The room inside was minimalistic yet powerful. A long executive desk of deep ebony wood sat facing a colossal window, behind which the entire city of Star Harbor stretched out beneath him like a living map. The skyline was vast—glass towers, bustling roads, glittering bridges stretching over the river. From up here, even the traffic felt like slow-moving streams of light.
On the right side, built-in bookshelves still waiting to be filled. On the left, a sleek touch-operated control board embedded in the wall for secure communications and system access. A private lounge corner stood near the window, with two dark leather chairs facing the city and a quiet coffee table set between them.
Miles walked to the window.
For a long moment, he simply stood there—hands in pockets—watching.
The Sterling name...Was once buried.
Now, it hovered above the skyline.
A quiet satisfaction settled in his chest. This was just the beginning.
His phone buzzed on the desk.A new number. Miles picked up without hesitation.
The voice on the other end was smooth, clear, and composed—with just a hint of crisp formality."Hello, boss."
Miles turned toward the window. "I’m in the cabin."
"I’m on the floor as well," she said. "Coming in now."
A gentle knock, followed by the soft click of the door opening.
A young woman entered—her posture straight, steps measured, but eyes alert. She wore a sharp, fitted navy-blue blazer over a pale blouse, matched with a pencil skirt and low heels. Her long dark hair was tied back in a sleek ponytail, and a thin pair of glasses rested on the bridge of her nose. She looked professional, efficient, and poised—yet beneath that calm confidence was the unmistakable air of someone aware of exactly who she was meeting.
She offered a respectful nod.
"My name is June," she said, her voice steady but warm. "Nice to finally meet you, boss."
Miles gestured to the chair across his desk. "Welcome, June. Have a seat."
She sat down, smooth and practiced, but Miles noticed the faintest trace of nervousness in her fingers—barely visible, but it was there. Monica must’ve told her everything.
He gave her a reassuring smile. "Ease up."
A small, almost embarrassed smile tugged at her lips.
"So," she began with a spark of her earlier confidence, "how are we getting started into business?"
Miles raised an eyebrow. "Already into business? Monica really did fill your head, huh?"
June straightened up. "It’s not like that, boss—"
"It’s fine." Miles chuckled. "But we’re starting Monday. I’ll hand you the action plan later. I know the moment I give it to you, you’ll dive in headfirst like Monica."
She blinked, caught. "Maybe."
"Don’t look at me like that," he said. "You just landed from a flight. How could I hand you a pile of work already? Let me not be a bad boss on day one."
June laughed, her nerves finally melting. "Okay, boss. Understood."
The air between them relaxed. They talked for a while—nothing official, just getting to know each other. June told him about Monica’s training, how she’d been at Reaper’s HQ for the last year.
Miles leaned back in his chair. "So how did Monica even find you?"
June’s smile turned nostalgic. "Boss... you might not remember."
She paused, voice softening.
"Back when I was in college, there was a terrorist incident. They held our class hostage." She looked up. "You came to our rescue."
Miles’s eyes narrowed slightly, remembering.
"I tried to find out who you were," she continued. "I asked around. But instead, I got intercepted by Miss Monica. She brought me in... gave me a job at Reaper, trained me from scratch. She said I’d be useful someday—as a backup."
Miles gave a quiet nod. "So that’s how it is..."
He looked at her again, and this time, the corner of his mouth curved upward.
"Well then, June," he said, "welcome to the frontlines."
Miles glanced at the time, noticing how quickly the day was moving. He looked across the desk at June, who was now standing after their conversation had eased into a casual rhythm.
"You had your lunch, right?" Miles asked, adjusting his sleeves slightly as he rose from his chair.
"Yes, boss," June replied with a polite smile. "Meals were included on the flight."
"Good," he nodded. "Your cabin’s right beside mine. Go have a look at your workstation and settle in a bit. Everything should be set up already. And don’t worry about accommodation—we’ve arranged a place for you to stay."
June blinked, surprised. "Already?"
Miles smiled slightly, walking with her to the door. "Yeah. Monica handled everything in advance. There’s a car waiting downstairs for you. Someone will hand over the keys to your apartment."
He paused before she could leave. "Let me know if you need anything else, alright?"
June turned and gave a small bow. "You’ve already done so much, boss. A proper cabin, a car, a house... and even a generous salary on top of it." She looked genuinely moved, her voice softening. "Thank you."
Miles leaned back casually against the doorframe. "Where’s your family, June?"
The question hung in the air for a beat too long. June looked away for the first time, her voice barely above a whisper. "Unfortunately... I don’t have one. I grew up in an orphanage. But Miss Monica... she’s like an elder sister to me. The only one I’ve ever had."
Miles’ eyes softened. "I’m sorry."He smiled gently. "Monica is like an older sister to me too, you know. Tough as nails but still..."
June chuckled quietly, her posture loosening just a bit more.
"Well, head on now. Check out your cabin. You’ve had a long flight. Go home after that and rest," Miles said. "The car’s waiting below. They’ll give you the keys."
As June nodded and headed out with a small wave, Miles returned to his desk, pulling out his phone.
He dialed. Elena answered within seconds.
"Hello, son," came her warm voice. "How’s it going?"
"Everything’s fine, Mom," Miles said. "I wanted to ask you something. Could you prepare dinner for one more person tonight?"
Elena laughed. "A request? Just tell me, sweetheart. I love cooking. Who’s the guest?"
"It’s my new assistant. She just arrived today," he replied.
"Then invite her over properly," Elena said brightly. "I already want to meet her."
Miles smiled. "Thanks, Mom. She’ll be there."
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