His Beautiful Target

Ella's POV

I smoothed my white blouse as I headed downstairs, my folder tucked beneath my arm with everything I needed for my first day of work.

I should have been excited. After four years of sleepless nights, endless papers, and examinations, I had finally earned my degree in Business Economics. I thought graduating meant my future was finally mine to decide.

Apparently, Marcus Ravengard had other plans.

I had never intended to work for the Ravengard Group. I wanted to build my career somewhere else and prove that my achievements came from my own abilities, not because I lived under Marcus Ravengard's roof.

Unfortunately, Marcus had already made his decision.

"You'll start your career at Ravengard Group."

I tried to argue, but he insisted there was no better place to begin than the country's largest business empire. Once Marcus Ravengard made up his mind, changing it was nearly impossible.

I sighed as I reached the bottom of the staircase. My gaze drifted toward the enormous portrait above the marble fireplace, and just like always, I couldn't help smiling.

Miles Ravengard, Marcus's eldest son and the future CEO of the Ravengard Group.

The mysterious man I had heard countless stories about but had never met.

In the portrait, Miles wore a perfectly tailored black suit, his charcoal gray eyes intense and his expression composed. Even in a painting, he carried the confidence of a man born to lead, yet there was something distant and unreachable about him.

When I first came to the mansion seven years ago, I thought the portrait belonged to one of Marcus's ancestors. Then Margarette told me it was her eldest brother, and my curiosity about Miles began.

Everyone seemed to admire him. The staff respected him, the executives praised his business instincts, and his siblings constantly bragged about him. Even Marcus, who rarely praised anyone, spoke of his eldest son with unmistakable pride.

Sometimes I wondered whether anyone could truly live up to such expectations.

"You're staring at that portrait again."

I smiled before turning around.

"I knew it was only a matter of time before you caught me."

Margarette walked toward me with an amused grin, a cup of coffee in one hand and her car keys dangling from the other.

"You've been standing there for almost five minutes."

"I have not."

"You have." She pointed toward the grandfather clock in the corner. "I walked into the foyer, answered a phone call, finished my coffee, and you're still looking at my brother."

I laughed, shaking my head.

"You're exaggerating."

"Am I?" She raised an eyebrow. "Then tell me honestly... what is it about that portrait that's so fascinating?"

I glanced back at it for a brief moment before shrugging.

"I don't know."

"You don't know?"

"I guess..." I smiled sheepishly. "I'm just curious."

"Curious about my brother?"

"I've never even met him."

"That has never stopped you from looking at him every single morning."

I let out an embarrassed laugh.

"You make me sound like a stalker."

"I didn't say that."

"You were thinking it."

Margarette laughed, linking her arm through mine as we headed toward the main door.

"I just think it's funny. You've lived in this house for seven years, and somehow you've developed a tiny little crush on someone you've never even met."

"I do not have a crush on your brother."

"Oh?"

"I don't."

"Then why do you always defend yourself before I even accuse you?"

I opened my mouth to answer, but nothing came out.

She burst into laughter. "I knew it."

I could only sigh in defeat.

Perhaps I was curious. Or maybe after seven years of seeing his portrait every morning, I had simply begun wondering what kind of man Miles Ravengard truly was.

"Ready?" Margarette asked, jingling her car keys as she stood by the front door.

I nodded and adjusted the strap of my bag. "Ready."

We left the mansion together and walked toward her car parked in the circular driveway. The morning air was pleasantly cool, carrying the scent of freshly cut grass from the gardens.

Although I knew how to drive, I rarely brought out the sedan Marcus had given me on my eighteenth birthday. It was a beautiful car, elegant enough to turn heads wherever it went, but I never truly felt comfortable calling it mine.

Most days, I preferred commuting.

I liked riding the bus or taking the train, blending in with everyone else instead of drawing attention to myself. Besides, every time I looked at the car, I couldn't help feeling guilty.

Marcus had already done more than enough for me.

After my father was murdered seven years ago, he welcomed me into his home without hesitation. He gave me a roof over my head, treated me like family, and made sure I received the best education money could buy.

From senior high school to college, he enrolled me in the country's most prestigious private schools, never allowing me to worry about tuition or anything else.

Compared to everything he had already given me, accepting an expensive car felt like asking for too much.

Today was different, though.

Since it was my first day at the Ravengard Group, Margarette insisted on driving me herself.

"I still think you should start using your own car," she said as we pulled out of the mansion gates.

I smiled and looked out the window.

"You know I prefer commuting."

"No," she corrected with a laugh. "You prefer pretending you're not living in one of the biggest mansions in the country."

"I just don't like standing out."

"You've been saying that since senior high school."

"And it's still true."

She only shook her head before focusing on the road.

For several minutes, we drove in comfortable silence as the quiet hillside gradually gave way to the busy city streets. I rested my head against the window, watching the city come to life while trying to calm my excitement and nerves.

"You know..." Margarette suddenly spoke, a teasing smile appearing on her face.

"Hmm?"

"I have good news."

I turned to look at her.

"What is it?"

"You won't have to keep wondering what my brother looks like in person."

I blinked.

"What do you mean?"

She grinned.

"Miles is coming home tomorrow."

I stared at her in disbelief.

"He is?"

She nodded. "Dad called last night. My brother finally finished everything overseas, and he'll be back tomorrow."

I didn't realize my mouth had fallen open until Margarette laughed.

"Oh, look at you."

"What?"

"Your face is completely red."

I immediately looked away and touched my warm cheeks.

"I was just surprised."

"Mhmm." She tried to hide her smile but failed miserably. "Whatever helps you sleep at night."

I let out an embarrassed sigh. "I've never even met him."

"I know." She chuckled. "But just a heads-up..."

I glanced at her curiously.

"My brother is even more handsome in person than he is in that portrait."

I laughed. "You're obviously biased."

"I am his sister," she admitted proudly. "But I'm also telling the truth."

She paused for a moment before adding with a playful grin, "And don't be heartbroken when you see women flirting with him every five minutes."

My eyebrows shot up.

"What?"

"It happens everywhere." She shrugged as though it were the most normal thing in the world. "Restaurants, business events, airports, even coffee shops. Women always find excuses to talk to him."

I couldn't help laughing. "That sounds exhausting."

"For him, maybe." She glanced at me briefly before smirking. "For you... we'll see."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means if you already spend five minutes every morning staring at his portrait, I'm afraid you might completely forget how to breathe once you see him in person."

"Oh, please."

"I'm serious."

"I don't have a crush on your brother."

"You keep saying that."

"Because it's true."

"Then why are you blushing again?"

I quickly turned toward the window, hoping she wouldn't notice the heat creeping back into my cheeks.

Unfortunately, Margarette's laughter echoed throughout the car, making my face burn even more. I had no idea whether she was exaggerating or not.

But one thing was certain.

Tomorrow, the Ravengard heir would return home. After seven years of seeing his portrait and hearing countless stories about him, I would finally meet the mysterious man I had spent so long wondering about.

I should have been nervous, but instead, I was excited. After years of wondering about Miles Ravengard, I was finally going to meet him, completely unaware that he would become everything I had ever dreamed of and everything I should have feared.