Chapter 99 PROUD FAMILY.

Chapter 99 PROUD FAMILY.
DANTE.
They all held their breath, waiting as the MC continued. I was so sure about her winning so I relaxed. Being able to spot success was one great trait I had as a businessman.
"This author racked over six hundred million sales on light reading apps and two hundred million in paperback sales within two months of release—"
Cinnamon grabbed her sister's other hand.
"—I am honored to present this award to Khole Wealth, known to her readers and to literature—" the MC smiled, "—as Lana Steele."
The room went wild with cheers.
Khole didn't move for exactly two seconds.
Then she was on her feet and I was on mine, Oliver grabbing my lapel in sleepy confusion. She threw her arms around me first, which surprised me enough that I almost stepped back, and then she turned to Cinnamon and they held each other, tears of happiness streaming down their faces.
"You did it!" Cinnamon kept saying, her voice rising higher each time. "You did it, you did it—"
I put Oliver on my hip and put my free hand on Khole's back and said nothing because there was nothing to say that the moment wasn't already saying better.
Tate was on his feet, clapping with unrestrained enthusiasm.
The table around us was noise and light and motion and Khole was crying and laughing in the same breath. Someone came from the left, guiding her toward the stage and I gave her a gentle push between the shoulder blades because she'd stopped moving and was looking back at us.
"Go," I said.
She nodded and followed.
The spotlight followed her up the stairs of the stage.
She crossed the stage with carefulness, not rushing or shrinking through it. She walked toward it fully, chin up, spine straightened.
As soon as she reached the middle, a gentleman in gray suit placed the award in her hands and stepped back.
Khole looked down at it with disbelief and a bright smile. When she finally looked up, her eyes found our table first.
The MC gently tapped her shoulder making her turn to face him. With a smile, he handed her a mic and mouthed appreciation speech.
I couldn't be more proud of my baby sister-in-law. I knew I was overly right about the potential she carried. I'm glad I didn't let us sleep on that because that would've been another dimmed talent.
She cleared her throat.
"I prepared a speech." She held up a small card with her free hand. The room laughed softly. "I'm going to mostly ignore it."
The laughter grew and her shoulders loosened.
"I want to start by saying something that I mean with everything in me—" she paused, steadying herself, "—I almost didn't let this happen. Not the award. The writing. The sharing of it. I wrote for years in private, in the dark, convinced that the stories in my head were for me alone and that the world wouldn't know what to do with them. I nearly kept it that way."
The murmuring decreased, all concentration on what she was saying.
"My sister married a man who, frankly, I was ready not to like."
Laughter rippled through the room.
I smirked, remembering how she made sure I was constantly on my toes and not messing up what I had with Cinnamon.
"I'm being honest." She smiled toward our table and her eyes found me. "Dante Moretti walked into our family and I watched him carefully. I waited for the mistakes. I looked for the fine print." She exhaled. "There wasn't any. There was just a man who loved my sister the way she deserved to be loved, and who looked at our family and saw people worth showing up for." Her voice became somewhat sad. "When he found out what I wrote and read it, he talked to me about it. That changed everything."
The spotlight sat quiet on the stage.
"He opened doors I couldn’t reach yet and never once made me feel small for needing them opened, which is its own kind of grace." She looked at me directly. "Dante. I don't have the words. So I'll just say God knew exactly what He was doing when He sent you to us. Especially—" her face fell, "— especially knowing what was coming, that we were about to lose our mother who would hold us through the wreckage." She wiped a lone tear. "Thank you for being that. For all of us."
Cinnamon's hand tightened in mine under the table.
I looked at the tablecloth overwhelmed with happiness.
"To mama Moretti, you adopted us without being asked. You just decided. We're blessed to have a mother figure despite ours being gone."
She looked toward the edge of the room.
"Dove." She tapped on the microphone "My sister-in-law who is also not in this room tonight, which we will be discussing at length—" the room laughed, and I did too, "—I love you. Risa, you own my heart. Tate, thank you for being a motivating headache that pushed me to submit this specific book. Now that I'm rich, I'll buy you your favourite matcha."
She looked back at the room.
"To anyone sitting somewhere tonight with something inside them that they haven't shown the world — a story, a song, a building they want to design, a business they haven't started, I need you to hear this from someone who spent years being that person." She lifted the award slightly. "The world will not come looking for you. But it will receive you when you decide you're ready to be received. That's the deal. You do the work. You show up. You survive the years when nothing is happening and no one is clapping." Her eyes swept the room. "And then one night, in a room like this one, the world will say your name. And it will mean it."
Momentarily, every thing in the room became still.
With a slow ripple that rose in succession, genuine emotions of people echoed throughout the space, from floor to ceiling. I found myself standing without even realizing it, with Oliver on my hip, clapping with my free hand like a fool, but I didn’t mind because Khole was up on that stage holding a number one bestseller award, tears streaming down her face, and she deserved every moment of it.
"This award—" she said, when the room finally let her speak again, "—belongs to my parents. Who are together again now, in whatever place good people go. Who gave me language before I knew what to do with it. Who read to me before I could read myself." She looked up to the ceiling briefly. "I hope you can see this. I hope it's even half as loud where you are as it is in here."
She lowered her head.
"And to every single reader who found Lana Steele in the dark when they needed her, you are the reason this award exists. Not me. You. Thank you for finding me."
She walked off that stage to a room that had no interest in sitting back down as cheers rained.
She returned to us still trembling, holding the award in both hands. Her eyes were puffy, and her smile was huge. Cinnamon pulled her in for a swishy hug along with Risa. I waited my turn, shifting Oliver to my other hip. When Khole reached me, she grabbed the front of my jacket with her free hand and said softly, just for me, "Thank you. I truly mean it. Thank you."
"You did the work," I said. "I just moved some furniture."
She laughed and shook her head.
"Now that you're a millionaire," I said, louder, releasing her, "I expect to be thoroughly and aggressively spoiled."
She pulled back and looked at me with great composure. "Gladly, Dante. Name your price."
"Starting with that first edition. Signed. Framed. On my office wall."
"Done." She pointed at me. "And you're getting the sequel before anyone else."
"I knew investing in you would pay off."
She shoved my arm and Cinnamon shoved my other arm and I laughed and Oliver, woken fully by the noise now, looked around at all of us with enormous sleepy eyes and said, with great authority.
"Was that Aunty Khole?"
"That was Aunty Khole," Tate confirmed, gently swatting Khloe's shoulder.
"Did she win?"
"She won." He ruffled Oliver's hair in a playful manner.
He nodded slowly, processing this. Then: "Can we have cake now?"
We all laughed. Such a proud family.

An hour later, the after-party was still in full swing around us.
Oliver had lost the battle with sleep sometime between the champagne toast and the second round of speeches, and was now entirely unconscious against my shoulder, one small fist gripping my lapel, completely unaware of and unbothered by the hundreds of people making noise around him. His weight was warm and solid.
Cinnamon was beside me, her heels long since removed and held in one hand, her other hand finding mine. She had her head tipped slightly toward my shoulder and she was watching the room.
Someone had taken photos. Multiple people. I had seen the phones going up throughout the evening, us at the table, me with Oliver, Cinnamon laughing at Risa's joke. I usually had opinions about cameras at events.
Tonight I didn't.
Let them look and see exactly this, my son asleep on my chest, my wife's hand in mine, Risa have her second flute of champagne while conversing with Tate, Khole across the room holding her award and probably making someone else cry. This was us. We had earned the right to let it be visible.
I bent and pressed my lips to the top of Cinnamon's head.
She smiled without looking up. "Ready?"
"Mm." I shifted Oliver's weight. "Let's say goodnight."
We waved at Risa and Tate, signalling them that we were leaving. Easily, we found Khole in a cluster of people who all wanted something from her, photos, conversations, business cards presented with barely concealed hope, and she spotted us over someone's shoulder and immediately extracted herself.
She kissed Oliver's sleeping head first.
Then she hugged Cinnamon for a long time, the two of them saying things I wasn't meant to hear, and I looked away and gave them the moment because some things between sisters had nothing to do with me.
"Tate will wait behind with Risa to make sure you get to the hotel," I told Khole when it was my turn. "Make sure you rest. Don't stay out until three."
"I'm a bestselling author," she said primly. "I'll stay out as late as I like."
"Oliver's birthday is Saturday," Cinnamon reminded. "Atlanta to Birmingham, four-hour drive, and if you are hungover in my car—"
"I will be fine." She pointed at me. "Make sure he doesn't get you lost."
"I don't get lost," I said. "I take alternate routes."
Khole kissed my cheek. "Goodnight, Dante."
"Goodnight, Lana Steele."
She rolled her eyes but secretly loved it. And judging by the way she held that award, she wasn’t letting it go tonight.