Chapter 9 - The Harbor of Peace
Three weeks later.
A summer thunderstorm had just cleared over Skidaway Island, leaving behind a brilliant, golden sunset that reflected off the calm waters of the sound.
Inside the master suite of the coastal estate, the soft, rhythmic sound of a baby’s faint breathing filled the warm room.
Jolene lay in the center of the grand king-sized bed, wearing a soft cream sweater, resting her back against a mountain of plush pillows. Her face was tired, but her gray-blue eyes were lit with an overwhelming, radiant joy.
Beside her, sitting on the edge of the mattress, was Grant Holloway.
The fearsome mob king—the man who had brought high-society Savannah to its knees—was holding a tiny, seven-pound baby boy wrapped in a pale blue blanket.
Grant held little Leo with delicate, almost reverent care, as if the baby were made of fragile glass. He held his small index finger out, and the newborn wrapped his tiny, strong fist tightly around Grant’s knuckle.
"He has your hair," Jolene whispered softly, leaning her head against Grant’s broad arm.
Grant looked down at his son, his thumb gently brushing the soft dark fuzz on the baby's head. His heart felt fuller than it ever had in his entire life—a vast ocean of warmth that erased every ghost, every scar, and every memory of pain.
"He has your strength," Grant murmured, leaning down to press a soft kiss against Jolene’s temple. "He survived because his mother was brave enough to fight for him in the dark."
Jolene smiled, wrapping her arms around Grant’s waist, pulling herself closer to the two men who meant everything to her.
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"No more darkness, Grant," she said softly, looking out the large balcony windows at the golden sun setting over the ocean. "No more secrets. No more fear."
"No more," Grant agreed, looking down at his wife and son. "Only us."
