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Chapter 3

The garden had finally fallen quiet.

Only a few strands of warm lights remained glowing among the trees, casting little pools of gold over the empty tables and scattered

ribbons left behind by the celebration. The laughter of classmates and friends had faded into the night, replaced by the soft rustling

of leaves and the distant hum of crickets.

It was almost midnight.

Therese stood near the garden gate, watching as the last of the guests disappeared down the driveway. Her eighteenth birthday had

come to an end.

But someone was still there.

Vermont.

He stood a few steps away, hands tucked into his pockets, wearing the most exaggerated expression of disappointment she had ever

seen.

Therese knew exactly why.

"You look miserable." She teased.

"I am miserable."

She raised an eyebrow.

"Why?"

Vermont sighed dramatically.

"Because I still haven't received my birthday kiss."

Therese tried not to laugh.

"You'll get it tomorrow."

His expression immediately changed.

"Tomorrow?"

"Yes." She nodded toward him. "At our favorite picnic spot."

Vermont stared at her for a moment before placing a hand over his heart.

"You're making me wait another whole day?"

"You've waited this long."

"That is cruel."

Therese laughed softly.

"You'll survive."

He shook his head, pretending to be heartbroken.

Then, before she could react, Vermont stepped closer.

"Fine." He murmured.

He leaned down and pressed a quick, innocent kiss against her forehead.

Therese froze.

Her eyes widened.

Then she glared at him.

"Vermont!"

He was already backing away, laughing.

"Goodnight!"

"Come back here!"

But Vermont only grinned and ran down the path before she could catch him.

He turned around while still walking backward, his smile bright beneath the fading garden lights.

"Goodnight, Therese!"

She crossed her arms.

"You are impossible!"

He laughed.

"And I'm excited for tomorrow!"

Therese shook her head, trying desperately to hide the smile threatening to betray her.

The memory faded slowly, like an old photograph disappearing beneath the weight of time.

Vermont remained silent in the back seat, his eyes fixed on the passing city lights. For a moment, he was no longer the ruthless man

the world knew him to be.

He was eighteen again.

Young.

Carefree.

In love.

Then-

"Sir Vermont?"

Sheila's voice pulled him back to reality.

He blinked, his expression hardening as the memories vanished.

"We're here, sir."

The car had already stopped in front of the hotel.

Vermont glanced through the window. The towering building stood illuminated against the night sky, its glass façade reflecting the

city lights. Somewhere above them, on the rooftop helipad, their Airbus was waiting to take them back to Moscow.

He exhaled slowly.

The past was over.

He opened the door and stepped out.

Without another word, he straightened his coat and walked toward the hotel entrance, his footsteps steady and purposeful.

Sheila hurried after him.

"Sir, we're having dinner first with the team before we fly out."

Vermont didn't stop walking.

He gave a brief nod.

"Fine."

They walked straight into the hotel's restaurant, where the rest of the team was already waiting.

The atmosphere was warm and lively.

Plates of food filled the long table, glasses clinked together, and conversations flowed easily around the room. The team had clearly

been looking forward to the meal after a long day.

They laughed, exchanged stories, and teased one another as they ate.

Vermont, however, remained quiet.

He sat at the head of the table, eating only occasionally while listening to the conversations around him. His expression was

unreadable, his eyes distant.

The dinner eventually came to an end.

Afterward, the team made their way to the rooftop helipad, where the Airbus was waiting beneath the night sky.

As Vermont stepped inside the Airbus, he immediately headed toward his private quarters.

The aircraft was unlike an ordinary passenger plane. It had been designed according to Vermont's own specifications, with three

private rooms and fifty passenger seats. He used it for personal affairs, private meetings, and business trips that required complete

discretion.

He entered his room and closed the door behind him.

The moment he was alone, he threw himself onto the bed.

He stared at the ceiling for a while, his mind still trapped somewhere between the present and the memories of twenty years ago.

Then he reached for the intercom beside the bed.

"Bring me a bottle of whiskey."

His voice was low and tired.

A few moments later, the intercom crackled.

"Yes, sir."

Vermont released the button and closed his eyes.

It wasn't long before a soft knock came from the door.

His assistant entered carrying a bottle of whiskey and a glass.

"Your whiskey, sir."

Vermont opened his eyes and sat up.

He took the bottle without a word.

His assistant quietly left the room, closing the door behind him.

Once again, Vermont was alone.

He poured himself a drink and slowly leaned back against the headboard.

Vermont slowly raised the glass to his lips.

But before he could take a sip, another memory surfaced.

Therese.

He remembered seeing her earlier, speaking gently with the residents.

Even after all these years, her beauty had not faded.

If anything, time had only made her more ethereal.

Her face was still as beautiful as he remembered.

Her eyes still carried that same gentle glimmer-the very same eyes that had once looked at him with laughter, affection, and youthful

innocence.

And her voice...

It lingered in his mind.

Soft.

Warm.

Familiar.

He could still hear her speaking to the residents as though she were standing right there beside him.

For a moment, Vermont closed his eyes.

The voice echoed through his thoughts, slipping past the walls he had built around himself for two decades.

He took another drink.

But the whiskey couldn't silence it.

It only made the memory sharper.

The sound of Therese's voice slowly faded into the distance, replaced by the gentle hum of the aircraft carrying him through the

night.

Vermont set the glass down beside him.

He closed his eyes.

And before long, he fell asleep.

One week passed.

Vermont was in his office, reviewing the latest design of a new sniper rifle. Several blueprints and technical documents were spread

across his desk as he examined every detail with a critical eye.

The door suddenly opened.

Vermont looked up.

Shannon stood in the doorway.

His recent ex-wife was a successful model, known for her striking beauty and fierce personality. Even now, she carried herself with

the confidence of someone who refused to be intimidated.

She walked straight toward his desk.

Vermont's expression hardened.

"What is it?"

Shannon stopped in front of him, her jaw tight.

"My period is late."

Vermont's brows furrowed.

"How late?"

She folded her arms across her chest, her voice sharp and unwavering.

"Several weeks."

Vermont stared at her.

He leaned back slowly in his chair.

"And?"

Shannon's eyes narrowed.

"And I think I'm pregnant."

For a moment, Vermont said nothing.

Then a doubtful look crossed his face.

"Pregnant?"

The word came out almost like he couldn't believe it.

Shannon crossed her arms.

"Yes, Vermont. Pregnant."

He stared at her, his expression growing colder.

"That's ridiculous. "

Shannon's expression hardened at his dismissal

She stepped closer to his desk, her eyes burning with anger.

"You f****d me so many times before we got divorced, and now you're doubting me?"

Vermont's jaw tightened.

He looked at her coldly, clearly irritated by her accusation.

"I'm doubting your assumption, Shannon."

She let out a bitter laugh.

"My period is weeks late, Vermont. What exactly am I supposed to assume?"

He said nothing.

Shannon crossed her arms, refusing to back down.

"You can't just dismiss this because you never wanted a child."

He stared at her for a long moment, his expression cold and disgusted.

"If it's mine, then get rid of it."

Shannon froze.

Vermont's voice remained frighteningly calm.

"I never wanted a child, Shannon. You know that."

Her eyes widened with disbelief.

"You're telling me to abort your own child?"

Vermont looked back at the blueprints on his desk, as though the matter were nothing more than an unpleasant interruption.

"I'm telling you what I want."

Shannon stared at him, anger flashing across her face.

"You're unbelievable."

Vermont didn't answer.

He glanced at the clock on the wall before looking back at Shannon.

"I'm busy, Shannon. I don't have time for this."

Shannon stared at him in disbelief.

Vermont leaned back in his chair, his voice becoming colder.

"I already fulfilled my part of the divorce."

He paused.

"I gave you one hundred million. The settlement is done. Everything between us is finished."

Shannon's face tightened.

Vermont looked at her as though he had already said everything that needed to be said.

"Whatever happens now is no longer my concern."

His eyes returned to the documents on his desk.

It was a clear dismissal.

He didn't want another conversation.

He didn't want another argument.

Most of all, he didn't want to see her again.

Shannon's hand was already on the doorknob when anger finally overtook her.

She turned around.

"You bastard!"

Vermont slowly lifted his eyes from the blueprint.

Shannon's voice rose, sharp and furious.

"Now I understand why all your wives left you!"

Vermont's expression hardened.

"Watch your mouth, Shannon."

But she didn't stop.

"They divorced you because you're evil!"

Her voice echoed through the office.

"I know what happened with them. Every time one of your wives suspected she was pregnant, you told them the same thing-

get rid of it!"

Vermont's jaw tightened.

Shannon stepped closer, her eyes filled with anger.

"How many women have you treated like they're nothing? How many times have you told them that your own child wasn't

wanted?"

He stared at her coldly.

"Enough!"

"No!" Shannon shouted. "You don't get to silence me this time!"

The office fell silent.

Vermont's expression was unreadable, but his eyes had turned dangerously cold.

Shannon shook her head bitterly.

"Maybe that's why you're alone, Vermont. You have money, power, companies, everything you could possibly want-but you

can't keep a single person beside you."

She wiped away the anger in her eyes and turned toward the door.

"And if I am pregnant, this time you don't get to decide everything for me."

She walked out, slamming the door behind her.

There's a long silence. Then, a soft knock came at the door.

Before Vermont could respond, his secretary, Alex Forel, stepped inside.

Alex carried a tablet in one hand, his expression professional and composed.

"Sir, I just wanted to remind you about your dinner meeting tonight."

Vermont barely looked up from the documents on his desk.

"With whom?"

Alex glanced at his tablet.

"Abram Anderson, sir. The Head of the Department of Civil Defense."

Vermont finally lifted his eyes.

"The procurement meeting?"

"Yes, sir. They will be discussing the procurement of firearms, magazines, and ammunition."

Vermont leaned back in his chair.

"What time?"

"Eight o'clock tonight. The restaurant has already been arranged."

Vermont gave a brief nod.

"Make sure everything is prepared."

"Yes, sir."

Alex was about to leave when something on Vermont's desk caught his attention.

He stopped and looked closer.

A rosary lay beside the documents.

Alex raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, sir, is that a rosary?"

Vermont glanced at it.

He simply nodded.

Alex looked at him with mild surprise.

"I thought you were strictly atheist."

Vermont picked up the rosary between his fingers, his expression unreadable.

"It's just a lucky charm."

Alex stared at him for a moment, clearly unconvinced.

Vermont placed the rosary back on his drawer. His eyes lingered on it for a moment longer than necessary.

I wonder what she is doing right now.

Alex was already at the door, one hand resting on the handle, when Vermont's voice stopped him.

"Alex."

He turned. "Yes, sir?"

"Before you leave, gather some information about a nun."

Alex blinked.

"A nun?"

Vermont didn't look up from the documents on his desk. "Yes."

For a moment, Alex simply stared at his employer.

Was the nun suspicious? A criminal? Perhaps some kind of poser? Because, as far as Alex knew, Vermont had never shown the

slightest interest in anything religious.

He slowly raised an eyebrow.

"Sir... is there something I should know? Is she involved in something illegal?"

Vermont finally lifted his eyes from the papers, giving him a cold, unimpressed look.

"Just do your job, Alex."

"Yes, sir. What's the name of the nun?"

Vermont paused for a moment before answering.

"Therese Marshal."

Alex immediately pulled out his tablet and began searching. After a few taps, an image appeared on the screen. He glanced at it, then

looked back at Vermont.

"Is this the nun, sir?"

Vermont's eyes briefly shifted toward the tablet.

"Yes."

Alex studied the image for another second.

Then, without thinking, he blurted out, "Damn. She's gorgeous."

The pen in Vermont's hand suddenly flew across the room.

Thud.

It struck Alex squarely in the shoulder.

"Ouch!"

Alex caught the pen and looked at his boss.

Vermont stared back at him with a murderous expression.

Alex immediately straightened.

"Sorry, sir."

Vermont said nothing.