Chapter 8 - The Safe Harbor
The ocean wind carried the clean, sharp smell of salt spray as the Holloway private helicopter touched down on the reinforced stern pad of the Valiant, a seventy-foot luxury expedition vessel cutting through the sapphire waters off the Georgia coastline.
Grant stepped out beneath the spinning rotors, ducking low against the downdraft, his eyes instantly searching the deck. Dr. Chen stood near the bridge companionway, offering a reassuring nod.
""She’s in the salon,"" Dr. Chen said over the fading roar of the turbines. ""She handled the evacuation remarkably well. Her blood pressure has actually dropped since we cleared the shoreline. She knows it’s over, Grant.""
Grant walked down the narrow teak stairs into the main salon. The room was bathed in soft afternoon sunlight filtering through wide panoramic windows. Jolene was sitting on an ivory sofa, wrapped in a plush cashmere throw, looking out at the endless horizon of open water. On the table beside her was a warm mug of broth and a plate of fresh fruit she had actually begun to eat.
When she heard his footsteps, she turned. For the first time in five months, the hunted, defensive look in her eyes was completely gone.
Grant didn't say a word. He crossed the cabin in three long strides, dropped to his knees before the couch, and buried his face against her hands. His broad shoulders, which had carried the burden of an empire and a bloody vendetta without bending, shuddered with a single, deep release of breath.
""It's finished,"" he murmured against her skin. ""Desmond is gone. Moretti’s distribution network has been dismantled by federal authorities based on the evidence we leaked this morning. There are no more threats. No more shadows. No one is chasing you.""
Jolene reached down, her slender fingers burying themselves into his thick dark hair, tilting his head up so she could look into his eyes. ""You gave up the Langford alliance. You gave up the harbor expansion. I heard Dr. Chen talking on the radio.""
""I gave up nothing that mattered,"" Grant answered fierce and low. He reached out, his hand resting flat against her round belly. Beneath his palm, a sudden, distinct kick pushed outward—firm, deliberate, and undeniably alive. Grant gasped, his eyes widening in pure wonder, his breath catching in his throat.
Jolene let out a soft, tearful laugh, placing her hand over his. ""He's been doing that all morning. Every time your name was mentioned over the radio, he kicked.""
""A boy?"" Grant whispered, looking up at her with an awe that no amount of wealth or power could ever purchase.
May you like
""A boy,"" she confirmed, wiping a tear from her cheek with her thumb. ""I was going to name him after your father. Christian. Because even when I thought I was alone in that awful room, remembering how your father stood for honor kept me from giving up.""
Grant leaned forward, pressing his forehead gently against hers. ""You will never be alone again. Not for a single second. Tomorrow, we dock in Charleston. A judge will meet us aboard. By noon, you will legally bear the Holloway name, and before our son takes his first breath, the world will know he belongs to an unbroken empire.""
