Chapter Two Hundred and Twenty-five
Malachi's POV
Pa Wood sat in the hotel bar like he owned it.
Which, knowing Pa, he probably did. Or at least had significant financial interest in. The man didn't go anywhere he couldn't control.
He looked older than I remembered. Smaller somehow. Age and illness catching up with him in ways that power and money couldn't prevent.
"Malachi," he said when I approached. Not standing. Not offering a hand. Just acknowledging my presence. "I wondered if you'd come."
"Maurice said you wanted to talk."
"Sit. Have a drink with your grandfather."
I sat but didn't order. "I don't drink anymore. Not when I'm responsible for a seven-month-old."
Something flickered in his eyes. Interest maybe. "The baby. Lia. Tom talked about her constantly at the end. Said she was perfect."
"She is."
"And her mother? The woman who caused all this trouble?"
