Chapter 109

The scenery inside the private dining hall of

L’Empyrean

was beautiful. Bartholomew Blackwood and Leonard Castellano sat at the center of a long polished table. Leonard looked refined yet imposing while leaning back with a glass of wine in hand. His salt-and-pepper hair slicked neatly back and his deep-set eyes were sharp. But his smile was one of satisfaction. Seated beside him was his son, Ulysses Castellano who was young, well-groomed, and dressed in an immaculate tailored suit that accentuated his regal posture. He had the same hawk-like gaze as his father, though softened by youth. Still, there was a quiet arrogance to him.

“So,” Leonard said, swirling his wine lazily, “the deal is sealed then. You’ll have my support in the northern ports... and I’ll have your daughter.”

Bartholomew gave a curt nod, lifting his own glass. “Grace will make an excellent wife. Obedient, graceful, well-raised.”

Ulysses leaned back in his chair with one arm resting acro