The General's Daughter: The Mission

They were almost at the gate when Shay stopped cold.

Lara followed her gaze and immediately understood why.

The drop-off lane was packed. Four cars had just pulled in back-to-back, commanding attention without trying—a stretched black limousine, two Bentleys, and a Rolls-Royce Phantom, glossy and oversized, its presence unmistakable, arrogant in its luxury. The engines purred softly, as if even the cars knew they belonged to a different world.

Four elegantly dressed women stepped forward, each holding a child by the hand. Their clothes were immaculate, their hair perfectly styled, laughter light and effortless as they chatted among themselves, utterly unbothered by the stares they drew. They looked like they had never been told no—and neither had their children.

Lara’s gaze drifted to the kids.

Every single pair of eyes was fixed on Shay.

Not with curiosity, but with that smug, knowing look kids get when they realize they have the upper hand. Lara’s stomach tightened as it clicked into place.

They were the four children who had bullied Sandro earlier.

Ethan caught Shay’s eyes and smirked, pulling exaggerated faces when he thought no one important was watching. Shay’s shoulders slumped. She dropped her gaze to the ground, studying her shoes like they suddenly mattered more than anything else.

Lara shot Ethan a hard look.

He tugged at his mother’s hand and leaned in, whispering something under his breath. The woman—tall, thin, and flawless in that cold, magazine-cover way—straightened immediately. Her eyes flicked to Lara, sweeping over her once with open disdain, like she’d already decided Lara didn’t belong here.

Lara didn’t look away.

The woman’s expression tightened, irritation flashing through her polished calm.

The air between them grew taut, stretched thin, then—

”Shay!”

The moment broke.

A chubby little girl burst out from behind them. Her shoes slapped loudly against the pavement as she ran, her round cheeks bouncing and her arms stretched out as wide as they could go, like she was trying to hug the whole world.

Shay gasped. She dropped Lara’s hand and ran too, laughing, her tiny feet moving as fast as they could carry her.

The two girls crashed into each other and wrapped their arms tight, squeezing and spinning and hopping up and down.

”Faye! I missed you soooo much!” Shay said, her voice squeaky and loud.

”I missed you MORE!” the chubby girl shouted back, hugging harder.

Lara smiled as she watched them wobble around together. So this is why Shay said she missed school, she thought.

After a moment, both girls stopped, breathing fast, their hair messy and their faces pink.

Shay leaned back and frowned, her bottom lip sticking out. ”Why aren’t you in class?” she asked. ”You’re supposed to sit next to me.”

The chubby girl crossed her arms and stomped her foot. ”My baby sister wanted to go to school,” she said seriously. ”Mom said I’m the big sister, so I gotta stay close and watch her.”

Shay’s eyes grew big. ”But she’s only four!” she said.

”I know!” Faye huffed.

Shay tilted her head, thinking very hard. ”And you already know all the lessons for kinder 1,” she said slowly. ”If you go to that class... won’t your brain get smaller?”

”But... but...” Faye sniffed, clutching the hem of her dress. ”Mommy said I gotta stay with Nell.”

Shay’s shoulders drooped as she looked up, eyes shiny. ”Then... then...” she hesitated, her voice getting small, ”we won’t be classmates anymore.”

Shay’s chest felt tight just saying it.

Faye shuffled her feet and stared at the floor. She spoke very softly, like she was talking to herself instead of Shay.

”We can... we can still play after school,” she said quickly, chin lifting with sudden confidence. ”I’ll bring my dolls. All of them.”

Before Shay could answer, a soft, lilting voice drifted over, sweet as sugar and just as cloying. ”Faye, there you are. It’s time to go home.”

Lara turned toward the sound. A fair-skinned little girl stood a few steps away, hair pulled back so neatly it looked untouched by wind or play. Her green eyes were bright and expectant, her expression delicate and pout-ready, like a porcelain doll that had learned how to complain. One look was enough for Lara to guess her father was Caucasian. Everything about the girl screamed careful breeding and indulgence.

She came over and reached out, tugging at Faye’s sleeve with impatient fingers.

”But, I still want to play with Shay,” she protested.

Without missing a beat, Nell stamped her foot. ”But I want to go home,” she shrieked, her voice sharp and piercing, meant to be heard—and obeyed.

A woman in a pink maid’s uniform hurried forward, her smile strained but respectful. ”Miss Faye, please,” she said gently. ”Let’s go home. You know what happens when Miss Nell gets upset. Your mother won’t be happy.”

Faye bit her lip and looked back at Shay. She didn’t say anything—just stared for a second longer, like she was trying to remember Shay’s face. Then she let herself be led away, following the girl and the nanny toward the car waiting at the farther end of the drop-off area.

Shay didn’t move. She stood very still and watched until the car rolled away and disappeared around the corner.

”She’s the only one who doesn’t make fun of me,” Shay whispered. Her voice wobbled. ”The only one who’s nice and defends me.”

Lara knelt beside her and brushed Shay’s hair back gently. ”Don’t worry, Sweetie,” she said softly. ”I’m here now. No one will bully you.”

It wasn’t just comfort. It was a promise.

Shay looked up suddenly, eyes wide and shining, like she’d just worked up the courage to ask the most important question in the world.

”Then...” she said carefully, fingers twisting into the hem of Lara’s sleeve, ”will you marry my Daddy and be my real mommy?”

Lara didn’t answer.

The light in Shay’s eyes slowly faded. Her smile slipped away, and the little dimples in her cheeks disappeared as she looked down at her shoes.

Beside them, Sarah sucked in a sharp breath.

Her gaze slid over Lara from head to toe, slow and assessing.

She is pretty.

Annoyingly pretty—clear skin, soft features... That natural kind of beauty that didn’t even look like it tried.

But so what?

She is an orphan, a country trash with no family, no connections. No class.

How could someone like her possibly deserve their boss?

Sarah’s jaw tightened. The insults crowded her throat, bitter and ready, but she swallowed them down.

It was not her place to talk. Not yet.

Lara crouched until she was eye level with Shay, her voice gentle.

”Shay... when people get married, they’re supposed to love each other. Your daddy and I..., we barely know each other. He doesn’t love me, and I don’t love him—”