Chapter 37
The tranquility lasted through the summer. The girls thrived, completely insulated from the dark realities of their father's profession. However, the approaching anniversary of Elena's death always brought a heavy, solemn atmosphere to the Hale estate.
Adrian spent the morning in his study, the bright cinematic sunlight feeling overly harsh. He stared at the faded photograph of Elena—the same photograph Victoria had crushed so many years ago. It was perfectly restored and framed in solid silver on his desk.
"Boss," Leo called out gently, stepping into the study. "The convoy is ready. Clara and Mia are waiting in the foyer."
"Thank you, Leo," Adrian murmured, his deep voice thick with emotion.
He walked out to the grand foyer. Clara and Mia were dressed in simple, elegant dark dresses. They looked up at him, their faces reflecting a mature understanding of their father's grief.
"Are you ready, Dad?" Clara asked softly, taking his hand.
"I am," Adrian replied, offering a reassuring smile.
The heavily armored SUVs drove slowly through the city, arriving at the private cemetery. The sprawling green hills were bathed in brilliant, clear light. Hundreds of armed capos formed a massive, respectful perimeter, bowing their heads as the Boss and his daughters walked up the hill to the stunning white marble memorial.
May you like
Adrian knelt on the grass, placing a massive bouquet of white lilies at the base of the headstone. ELENA MARLOWE HALE – OUR ETERNAL LOVE.
He closed his eyes, the memory of her smile flashing vividly in his mind. He had kept his promise. The girls were safe, the empire was secure, and her killers were nothing but ash.
