CHAPTER 197: CONNECTION!!

Miles’s voice cracked with disbelief.

"My grandfather...?"

Nolan watched him closely. The shock on Miles’s face was not the expression of a man hiding secrets. It was a man discovering that the past he never knew was larger than he imagined.

Miles pulled in a long breath, steady but strained. He looked as though old wounds were reopening in places he had never known he carried scars.

When he finally spoke again, his tone softened.

"Nolan, I can see you are not just angry. You are hurting. And I understand the pain of losing someone you love..."

His voice carried a quiet ache.

"I lost my father when I was five. Murdered. I lost my family for seventeen years. I do not know where my grandfather is... I do not even know if he is alive."

Nolan lowered his head.

Miles leaned slightly closer.

"So please, tell me everything. What are you trying to kill me for?"

Nolan’s breath trembled, but slowly, the pills steadied him. His fingers stopped shaking.

"Take your time," Miles said gently. "Slow breath. Sit comfortably. If you say you want no harm to me or my family, I will help you. But you must tell me the truth."

Nolan stared at this young man who should have been celebrating success and peace, not sitting in a dim safehouse, interrogating a trembling assassin.

He felt ashamed... ashamed of what he had attempted today.

He whispered,

"If I tell you everything... will you let me go?"

Miles nodded.

"Of course. But you must assure me you are not a danger to my family again."

Nolan looked into his eyes and saw sincerity, not threat.

"Okay... I will tell you."

The door opened. A Sterling security agent placed a small flask of tea on the table and quietly left.

Miles poured two cups. One for Nolan, one for himself.

He took the first sip.

"Drink. It will calm your mind."

Nolan drank. Warmth settled into him, easing the jagged edges of panic.

Then he spoke.

"My father, Basil Jefferson... he got tangled with a group of thieves. They called themselves the treasure hunters."

Miles’s eyes sharpened instantly.

"So it is all connected..."

Nolan nodded miserably.

"It started when they came to Silverline City. They told my father about a treasure. Something unimaginable. He trusted them. Helped them. And after that... he realised they were not treasure hunters at all. They were robbers. Criminals. But by then he had already committed crimes helping them. He said he only did it to protect me and my mother. If the people in Silverline knew... he would lose everything. Their trust, his reputation... everything."

Miles listened quietly, absorbing every word.

Nolan continued,

"Then one day they heard about a treasure worth a fortune. Something endless. Something that could make their families rich for generations."

He swallowed hard.

"They targeted your grandfather. Timothy Sterling."

Miles stiffened.

"My father refused to betray him. Your grandfather was his benefactor. My grandfather died when I was a baby... and I heard it was Timothy Sterling who helped my father rise. So when he found out about the treasure... he warned your grandfather."

Miles felt the world shift beneath him.

Nolan’s voice lowered into a shiver.

"And somehow... a man named Flinch found out."

Miles’s eyes narrowed sharply.

"Alistair Flinch...?"

Nolan’s voice trembled as though each memory tore open a wound that had never healed.

"Yes... yes, him," he whispered. "He attacked our farmhouse. And my... my mother died in that attack."

His eyes closed, and for a moment his breath shook so sharply that Miles thought he might break apart entirely. The silence in the room grew thick, almost suffocating.

Miles leaned forward just slightly.

"My grandfather," he asked quietly. "Is he alive?"

Nolan opened his eyes, hollow and dim.

"I don’t know. The day I lost my mother... that was the last day I ever saw him. Alistair Flinch died the same day. My mother was murdered, but it was declared an accident. That day still haunts me. It took everything from me."

He swallowed hard, fingers gripping the cup so tight his knuckles whitened.

"My father sent me abroad after that. Far away. I grew up wanting revenge. I didn’t want the treasure hunters to ever succeed. But then I heard they were disbanded after Flinch died. So I tried to track them down. I tried for years... but I had nothing. No resources. No reach. I was just a grieving boy pretending to be a hunter."

Miles listened without interrupting. Nolan looked like a man collapsing inward under the weight of truths he had held too long.

"Then a few days ago... I found out my father was in London for a meeting. I found out about Sterling Enterprises too. And I heard about you... from one of my father’s men. So I came back to the country. I thought if you die, the treasure dies with you. The hunters lose their hope forever."

Nolan shut his eyes.

"I was stupid. I don’t know what came over me."

His voice cracked apart like dry wood.

"I am sorry, Miles. I saw your family in the restaurant and suddenly I panicked. My behaviour caught attention, and the secret service found me. No matter what... I would have been caught. It was a foolish move. I forgot about my own wife and children. I did not think. I did not stop. I just... acted."

Miles watched him in silence, seeing not a killer but a man drowning in guilt, grief, and desperation. A man who had gone too far chasing shadows.

After a long pause, Miles spoke quietly.

"I understand. And I will let you go. But you will answer one more question."

Nolan nodded quickly. "Ask me."

"Chestor Sterling. Do you know about him?"

Nolan hesitated. "I heard he was captured. I don’t know where he is now."

Miles pressed on.

"What was his role in all of this?"

Nolan lifted his head slowly.

"Let me ask you something, Miles. You know about the rest of your family in Citadel, right?"

"Yes. I found out a month ago."

"Then think about this. Why do you think only your grandfather was targeted? Why do you think only you are being targeted? Why not the rest of the Sterling family?"

Miles felt his stomach tighten.

The implication was clear.

"So Chestor was involved," Miles said, voice low.

Nolan nodded, guilt flickering through him.

"He was the one who connected with the treasure hunters in the first place. He sold your grandfather out. And from what I heard, he was also involved in my greatfather’s death as well"

Miles exhaled slowly, a long, heavy breath filled with the weight.Miles stood quietly for a moment, watching Nolan’s trembling posture slowly settle, the man’s panic fading into shame. The silence felt heavy, but not hostile. It was the silence of a man who had finally stopped running.

Miles’s voice softened, yet carried an authority that left no space for argument.

"Nolan, you may leave now. I will not stop you any further. I know you made a mistake. But if I ever find out even the smallest hint of hostility toward me or my family, remember this is the last time I am letting you go. Next time... not even your father will be able to save you."

Nolan swallowed, nodding rapidly.

Miles continued, his tone colder but strangely reassuring.

"And leave the rest of the treasure hunters to me. No more treasure hunters will hurt our families. Your dream of ending them... that is my responsibility now."

Nolan’s eyes widened. "What are you going to do?"

"You don’t need to know that," Miles replied, turning away toward the dim window. "Go home. Relax. I will let you know when it is time to celebrate."

For the first time since entering the room, Nolan’s shoulders loosened. He believed every word Miles said. Somehow, being in the presence of this young man eased something inside him, as if the years of fear and guilt finally had a path to end.

"Thank you, Miles," Nolan said at last, voice soft, almost breaking. "I am sorry for today. I tried to kill you... but you spared me. You are a good man. Thank you so much. I promise I won’t repeat this mistake again."

Miles nodded.

"Alright. You may go. Your weapons stay here."

Nolan nodded quickly. "Okay. Thank you."

Miles signalled a nearby agent.

"Escort him to his stay. Make his travel arrangements for the morning."

"Yes boss."

The agent guided Nolan out. When the door shut, the room felt larger again, empty yet buzzing with the leftover tension.

Miles exhaled and turned to his own men.

"Call the team. Clean up. We are moving out. Make sure no evidence remains. This is a secret service safe house."

The agents dispersed instantly, moving with efficient silence.

Miles pulled out his phone and dialed Monica.

The moment the call connected, Monica’s voice carried its usual mix of irritation and amusement.

"You remember me finally. Tell me what you need."

Miles chuckled lightly.

"Can I not call my cousin just to know how she is?"

"Come on, tell me what it is."

Miles leaned back against the wall, exhaustion tugging at his voice.

"Nolan Jefferson. Son of Basil Jefferson. He is here in Star Harbor. He is leaving tomorrow. I need eyes on him. All day. Every day. Anything suspicious, you tell me."

Monica gasped lightly.

"Woah, woah. How did you even find him?"

"He came to me," Miles said dryly. "To kill me."

"What?"

"It’s a long story. I am exhausted. I will brief you in the morning."

"Did you fight? Is he hurt?"

"No."

"Alright. I will arrange eyes on him. What else?"

Miles closed his eyes for a moment.

"Treasure hunters are coming for me. We have to set up a trap."

Monica’s voice sharpened.

"I am already working on the plan."

Miles nodded to himself.

"Alright then. Good night, Monica."

"Good night, boss, take care."

The call ended, leaving Miles alone with the quiet hum of the safehouse lights and the distant movements of his team clearing the room.