Page 181 of Undisputed Chaos
Beautiful, yes, but there was an intelligence in her eyes, a warmth that explained how she'd captured my son's notorious heart.
But more than that, there was something familiar about her, something that reminded me of my own Jovie, Jax’s sister, whoturned out to be quite the family woman with her shy husband and crazy Avery.
"I'm so sorry I wasn't here to greet you," she began, slightly breathless from rushing, but I waved away her concern.
"Nonsense, darling." My voice was heavy with an emotion I wasn't prepared to feel.
This was the woman who'd done the impossible, who'd made my most arrogant son believe in forever.
"Estelle." I took her hand, bringing it to my lips with Old World courtesy, and felt my chest tighten unexpectedly when she didn't pull away.
Through months of video calls, I'd watched her laugh at Jax's jokes, seen her gentle Leo through schoolwork, and witnessed her patient handling of my son's more dramatic moments.
But seeing her in person, seeing the way she fit so perfectly into this world we'd built...
“The photos hardly did you justice," I charmed, and meant every word.
"Dad," Jax's voice carried a warning note, but there was something else underneath it.
My son, who'd never brought a woman home, wanted me to approve of the miracle he'd found.
"Relax, son. I'm simply appreciating your excellent taste." I released Estelle's hand but held her gaze, letting her see the approval there.
"Though I insist you call me Wade or Dad as well. If you're going to be part of this family, if you're going to love my son the way he deserves, then you might as well make it official."
Jax's face transformed, relief and joy warring for dominance.
This wasn't just about acceptance.
This was about the future of the Easton name, about the legacy I'd built and the man who would carry it forward.
Jax had chosen well. Better than well.
Leo, my grandson in every way, peered at me from behind Estelle's legs with the curiosity of childhood.
Five years old and already showing signs of the intelligence that ran in our chosen family.
"Grandpa?" His voice was small but determined, exactly as it had sounded through countless video calls.
But hearing it in person, seeing his serious little face...
My throat tightened unexpectedly as he thrust a crayon drawing toward me, stick figures labeled in careful printing:
GRANDPA, JAX, CONNOR, ADRIAN, ELLE, SIERRA, ISLA, DINO,and a small figure labeledMEin the center.
"It's magnificent," I praised, and had to clear my throat to continue. "I'll treasure it always, Leo.”
The simple gift, a child's drawing that included me in his definition of family, had me more emotional than most of my life.
When had I become so sentimental? When had the approval of a five-year-old begun to matter more than boardroom victories?
When I hit my ripe age of forty-six.
"Where's Isla?" Leo asked, scanning the room.
"Right here, sweetie.”
I turned to see Adrian's angel entering from the kitchen, a glass of wine in her hand and paint stains on her fingers that spoke of an artist fully immersed in her craft.
