Chapter 11 - A FULL TABLE
One year later.
The chandelier in the private dining room of the Sterling Court Hotel caught the light like pieces of broken ice. Thirty polished mahogany chairs surrounded the long table.
This time, every single chair was filled.
Vance sat at the far end, arguing good-naturedly with a group of legitimate port managers. Loyal men who had proven their worth sat alongside them, raising glasses of expensive wine. The atmosphere was loud, warm, and intensely alive.
At the head of the table sat Rowan Hale. He wore a sharp navy suit, looking relaxed and younger than his thirty-nine years. To his right sat Elara, wearing a stunning evening gown, her hand resting gently over his on the armrest of his chair.
Suddenly, the heavy doors opened. Mia ran in, wearing a brand new, bright yellow dress. She carried a massive bouquet of white orchids—purchased legally this time—and ran straight to Rowan, throwing her arms around his neck.
"Happy birthday, Dad!" she beamed.
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Rowan Hale, the man they once called the Frost, smiled warmly. He looked at the cake, glowing with thirty-nine candles, and then at the faces of his true family. He didn't need to hear a sound that came from absence anymore; his life was finally full.
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