Chapter 230 A Girl

Chapter 230 A Girl
Rowan

Three Months Later

I couldn’t stop staring at my wife. Honestly, I wasn’t even trying anymore.

The party buzzed all around me, laughter, chatter, the soft clinking of glasses, as people moved through the backyard of our home. But no matter where I looked, my gaze kept drifting back to Violet.

She stood near one of the outdoor tables, laughing at something Camille had just said, her head thrown back in pure joy. In her hands was a paper plate piled impossibly high with food, far more than any reasonable person should attempt to balance. Then again, she was pregnant. Apparently, reasonable didn’t apply anymore.

My eyes dropped instinctively to her stomach, rounded delicately beneath the fabric of her dress. Three months. Just three months. And already, she had begun to show, not in a way strangers might notice, but enough for me to see. Enough that every time she rested a hand there or absentmindedly rubbed her belly while talking, something tight and fierce clenched in my chest.

I couldn’t explain it. I didn’t want to. All I knew was that every day, without fail, she became more beautiful. More mine. More everything I never thought I deserved.

Her laughter rang out again, clear and light, carrying across the yard. God, I loved that sound. Three months ago, she wouldn’t have dared laugh like that, not openly, not freely, not without glancing over her shoulder, waiting for the next disaster to strike.

But now? She looked happy. Really happy.

And maybe that was my favorite part.

The fear was gone. The doubt. The woman standing there wasn’t afraid of Hargrove, or Marcus, or the future. Not even motherhood.

She looked like she was finally living.

And I was lucky enough to witness it.

“You’re staring again,” Theo’s voice broke through my thoughts.

I glanced over to find him standing beside me, drink in hand.

I shrugged. “She’s my wife.”

Theo smirked. “You’re creepy.”

“She’s carrying my child.”

“Still creepy.”

I smiled, shaking my head. Theo rolled his eyes before glancing toward Camille, who had just returned from what I was fairly certain was her seventh bathroom trip of the afternoon. Maybe her eighth. At this point, no one was keeping count.

Camille waddled over to Violet and plopped dramatically into a chair. “Oh my God.”

Violet laughed. “Again?”

“Again.”

Theo sighed. “You literally just went."

“There’s a child sitting directly on my bladder,” Camille shot back.

“That’s fair.”

“Thank you.”

She grabbed a spring roll from Violet’s plate, then another, then immediately reached for the crab rangoon.

Violet smacked her hand. “Get your own.”

“I’m carrying a girl.”

“That doesn’t make my food your food.”

“It absolutely does.”

I laughed quietly into my drink, savoring the moment.

The entire backyard had been transformed for the party. String lights hung overhead despite the afternoon sun, casting a warm glow that would only become more magical after dusk. Large tables stood beneath white canopies, and the usual pink and blue decorations were nowhere to be found, replaced instead by vibrant purples and greens. It had taken Violet exactly three days to decide she hated normal gender reveal themes. Naturally.

The food tables stretched nearly the entire length of the patio. Because my wife had casually mentioned she wanted Chinese food, I’d ordered enough to feed an army, three different restaurants, dozens of trays piled high.

Lo mein. Fried rice. Orange chicken. Sesame chicken. Egg rolls. Spring rolls. Crab rangoon. Sweet and sour chicken. Beef and broccoli. Mongolian beef.

At least five different desserts.

The smile on Violet’s face when the food arrived had been worth every single dollar. She was currently working her way through a second plate, and that made me ridiculously happy.

My attention drifted across the yard.

Avery stood near one of the tables, deep in conversation with several employees from the rehabilitation project. She looked healthier, stronger, though not completely healed. Maybe she never would be. But she was trying, and that mattered more than anything.

Nearby, Devin laughed with a group of contractors, looking almost completely recovered. The bruises and pain were mostly gone, leaving only the occasional stiffness to remind him of what he’d been through. Otherwise, you’d never know he’d nearly died.

Life moved forward. For all of us.

A movement beside me pulled my attention away.

Agent Bennett appeared or maybe just Bennett now. She wasn’t technically working today, but the way she carried herself, I wasn’t convinced she knew how to stop being an FBI agent.

She smiled slightly. “Congratulations.”

I raised my glass. “Thanks.”

Her expression shifted just enough that I felt the familiar chill of impending bad news.

“What?”

Bennett smirked. “Relax.”

“I don’t like that smile.”

“Neither does anyone else.”

I sighed. “What’s going on?”

She glanced around the yard, then leaned in slightly closer. “I have some good news and some bad news.”

Of course she did.

I took a slow sip of champagne. “Start with the bad.”

“Hargrove.”

The name alone twisted my gut.

Bennett’s smile widened, and that was never a good sign. “Hargrove was assaulted at the correctional facility this morning.”

I stared at her, waiting.

She shrugged. “Multiple stab wounds.”

My eyebrow lifted. “Is she alive?”

“For now.” The answer was cold, clinical, final. “Doctors don’t expect her to survive the week.”

Silence settled between us.

Then Bennett lifted her glass. “Take that information however you’d like.”

I stared at her, incredulous. “That’s your baby gift to me?”

Her grin grew wider. “You’re welcome.”

Before I could answer, she simply turned and walked away.

Typical.

I watched her cross the yard then pause. She stopped beside Devin, said something low, touched his shoulder, and leaned in closer than necessary.

Devin smiled... a real, genuine smile I hadn’t seen before.

I looked away quickly before they noticed me watching. Some things were better left alone.

A few feet away, Agent Locke flirted openly with one of my legal assistants. Poor woman had no idea what she was getting herself into.

I laughed quietly to myself.

Maybe everyone deserved a happy ending.

Eventually, Violet appeared at my side and slipped her hand into mine.

The contact instantly pulled my attention back where it belonged.

Her. Always her.

“You ready?”

I looked down at her.

She smiled, excited, nervous, beautiful.

“Not even remotely.”

She laughed softly. “Good.”

The crowd slowly gathered around the reveal board positioned near the center of the yard.
Nine balloons. Three rows. Three columns. Eight filled with white powder, one holding the answer.

Green darts rested in a basket beside me. Purple darts beside Violet.
Theo wrapped an arm around Camille while everyone found their places. Phones, cameras, video recorders all ready for the moment.

Violet squeezed my hand once before stepping forward.

I stepped beside her, heart hammering wildly. Ridiculous. I wasn’t afraid of anything except maybe finding out whether I was having a son or daughter.

Someone started counting.

Immediately, everyone joined. “Five!”

Cheers erupted.

“Four!”

Camille started crying. Again.

“Three!”

Theo looked exhausted.

“Two!”

Violet laughed.

“One!”

I threw first. The dart sailed across the yard.

Pop.

White powder exploded... nothing.

The crowd groaned dramatically.

Violet stepped forward next.

Her first dart hit another balloon. More white powder. More groans.

My second throw missed completely.

The crowd immediately began teasing me.

I ignored most of it.

Violet rolled her eyes, grabbed another dart. “Move over.”

I laughed. “Bossy.”

She smiled and threw.

The dart struck the upper corner balloon.

For a moment, nothing happened.

Then... A cloud of brilliant purple powder burst into the air.

The crowd erupted, screaming, cheering, clapping.

Camille sobbed openly.

Theo looked confused, emotional, then confused again.

And I just stood there, stunned.

Purple.

A girl.

My daughter.

I looked at Violet. She was crying. Of course she was.

I was about two seconds from joining her.

A daughter.

The realization settled deep in my chest, warm, overwhelming, perfect.

Three months ago, I thought my life had ended. My company collapsed. My enemies closing in. Everything I’d built was crumbling.

Now?

Now I stood in the backyard of our home, surrounded by family and friends, watching my wife laugh through tears as purple powder drifted in the afternoon light.

For the first time in my life, I realized I wasn’t building a company anymore.

I was building a family.

And somehow, that felt infinitely more important.