Gregory Hale, Damon’s father, came down first. His silver hair was combed back neatly, and his spectacles perched low on the bridge of his nose as he scanned the room over the top of his newspaper. He wore a deep burgundy robe cinched at the waist, casual yet unmistakably expensive, and the faint scent of tobacco trailed him like an afterthought. “Ah,” he said, lowering the newspaper slightly as his eyes met with his son.His voice, a deep baritone still managed to fill the space with ease. “Finally doing the right thing, I see.” He crossed the room with unhurried confidence, the robe sweeping lightly against the marble floor as he reached Damon. With one hand, he gave his son a firm pat on the back. “Congratulations, son.” “Thank you, Dad,” Damon replied. Gregory nodded once, then turned toward Lena. The transformation in his expression was remarkable — from stoic patriarch to genial host. His eyes softened, and a slow, approving smile stretch
Last Updated : 2025-11-06 Read more