The General's Daughter: The Mission

Lara met his gaze.

For a moment, the hum of the helicopter felt louder.

”I understand,” she repeated gently, ”that when someone matters to you... you make space for them.”

Her tone wasn’t bitter. It wasn’t sarcastic. If anything, it was too calm.

Ares’ eyes darkened slightly.

Beside him, Scarlet’s grip on her tablet tightened just enough for her knuckles to pale.

Lara didn’t seem to notice either of them.

Her voice softened, drifting somewhere far away.

”It’s only natural,” she said quietly. ”When someone truly matters to you... you don’t wait for an excuse. You make one.”

The statement was simple. Almost abstract.

Even Ares couldn’t fully grasp what she meant.

Yet the way she said it — calm, certain, untouched by insecurity — made something in his chest constrict.

Because she wasn’t looking at him.

She was looking beyond him.

Past the cabin. Past the present.

As if she were seeing someone else entirely.

Someone who no longer existed here — but still lived vividly in her memory.

That expression. He had seen it before. The distant tenderness. The aching familiarity.

It was the same look she wore when she had woken from that dream... whispering another man’s name into the dark.

Ares’ breathing grew heavier, subtle but sharp.

”Is that what you think this is?” he asked, his voice lowered, controlled.

Scarlet’s head snapped toward him.

Lara blinked, as if pulled back from wherever she had wandered. Then she smiled — polite, composed.

”Isn’t it?”

There it was. Her voice did not sound like an accusation or jealousy. Just acceptance.

And somehow, that unsettled Ares far more than anger would have.

He closed the laptop slowly.

”Be careful,” he said. ”You’re making assumptions.”

Lara tilted her head.

”And you’re not?”

The helicopter dipped slightly as it adjusted altitude.

Shay looked at Lara, then at Ares. She blinked innocently.

Scarlet suddenly spoke, her tone light but edged.

”Miss Larissa seems to be unhappy with my presence.”

It was meant to provoke.

Lara turned to her calmly.

”Why should I be? You are here for Shay and not for something else, right?”

The words landed clean. Scarlet went still. Ares’ jaw tightened.

Because for the first time—

He wasn’t sure who Lara was thinking.

Was it him? Or Scarlet?

Or someone from a life she had never fully explained?

And that uncertainty unsettled him more than anything else.

The air shifted after that.

Ares didn’t respond to Lara’s last remark.

He simply reopened his laptop. But he wasn’t reading.

His jaw had set.

His focus had sharpened — not on the reports, but on her.

Lara leaned back into her seat, unaware — or perhaps pretending to be unaware — of the weight of his gaze.

Scarlet resumed typing, though her fingers struck the screen a little harder than before.

Shay had returned to drawing doodles. She was unusually quiet beside her.

That was what caught Lara’s attention.

The little girl was normally chatty around her—eager, affectionate, bursting with thoughts. But today she stared down at her sketch pad, pencil moving absently across the page.

”Sweetie, what’s wrong?” Lara asked softly, leaning closer.

Shay didn’t look up.

”You didn’t say goodnight last night,” she murmured.

The words were small. But they carried weight.

Lara’s heart tightened.

”I’m sorry,” she said gently. ”I was at your Grandma Maddie’s house. I stayed there.”

Shay nodded once.

Then she continued doodling.

Lara watched her for a moment. The way her little brows knitted together. The way she pressed too hard with the pencil.

”Can I draw something for you?” Lara asked.

Shay paused.

Then she handed over the sketch pad and a pink pencil case filled with neatly arranged pencils—different diameters, HB grades carefully sorted like tiny soldiers.

”What do you want me to draw?” Lara asked.

Shay finally looked at her.

”Anything is fine. As long as it’s your drawing, I will love it, Mommy.”

Mommy.

The word pierced something deep inside Lara.

For a fleeting second, another little voice echoed in her memory.

Althea.

Her own daughter in her past life, saying the same thing with bright eyes and unshakable trust.

Lara inhaled quietly.

”All right then,” she said.

The helicopter hummed steadily around them as she began to sketch.

Her hand moved with quiet confidence—fluid, precise. Muscle memory from years of training was revealed in every stroke.

Shay leaned closer, almost climbing into her lap, watching in awe as lines transformed into form.

Fifteen minutes later, Lara turned the sketch pad around.

A little warrior princess looked back at them.

The resemblance was undeniable. Shay’s delicate features, but stronger. Fiercer. A tiny crown rested on her head. A short sword hung at her waist. Her stance was brave, chin lifted defiantly as if she owned kingdoms.

Shay gasped.

Her earlier gloom vanished instantly.

”Mommy, you are so awesome!”

She scrambled up, holding the sketch pad high.

”Daddy, look! It’s me! I’m a warrior princess!”

Ares finally lifted his gaze from the laptop.

For a moment, the sharp CEO disappeared, replaced by a father.

His eyes moved over the drawing. It lacked intricate detailing—there hadn’t been enough time—but the proportions were flawless. The energy was alive.

His gaze shifted to Lara. Brief. Assessing.

Then back to the sketch.

Just how many more secrets did this woman have?

On his side, Scarlet’s fingers stilled on her tablet.

She looked at the drawing. Then at Shay’s glowing face. Then at Lara.

A bitter taste rose in her throat.

She couldn’t draw.

She couldn’t evoke that kind of effortless warmth.

And worse—

She couldn’t command Ares’s quiet attention the way Lara just had.

Outside the oval windows, the city stretched beneath them like a chessboard.

Inside the helicopter, the real game had already begun.

Then—

Ares closed his laptop again. This time, deliberately.

He stood.

The movement drew attention instantly. Even the siblings in the back glanced forward.

He crossed the small cabin in two strides and stopped beside Lara.

Too close.

Close enough that the faint scent of his cologne — dark cedar, patchouli, and something sharper — wrapped around her.

”Give it to me,” he said calmly.

Lara looked up. ”What?”