Chapter 18 - Sunday Dinner at Magnolia Hall
The dining room of Magnolia Hall had been restored to its historic grandeur, free of corporate sharks, fraudulent deeds, and abusive pretenders. The heavy mahogany table groaned under the weight of an even more lavish Southern feast than the one Clayton had tried to hijack: two whole roasted turkeys, honey-glazed hams, silver bowls of creamy grits, buttered corn pudding, and rows of warm, flaky buttermilk biscuits.
Aunt Ruth sat at the head of the table where she belonged, wearing a vibrant emerald silk dress and laughing openly as Arthur Pendelton recounted the facial expression of Judge Thomas when he read the federal indictments against Julian Sterling earlier that morning.
'To survival, legacy, and women who know how to follow the money,' Aunt Ruth announced, raising her crystal champagne flute high across the table.
'To survival,' Christian and I echoed in unison, our glasses chiming softly against Ruth’s crystal.
The dining room doors stood wide open, letting in the warm, fragrant breeze of the Georgia pecan groves. For the first time in years, the house felt entirely at peace. Clayton was awaiting trial in a maximum-security federal annex, his legal team having abandoned him the moment the Sterling syndicate’s bank accounts were frozen by the Treasury Department. Evelyn and Chloe Whitfield had reportedly fled the state, disgraced by their association with the family's criminal enterprise.
After dinner, as Aunt Ruth retired to the parlor with Arthur to review the estate’s restructured trust documents, Christian and I walked out onto the wide wraparound veranda, watching the sun dip below the horizon in a blaze of amber and violet.
'What are your plans now, Nora?' Christian asked softly, leaning against the white wooden railing beside me, his blue eyes catching the twilight glow.
I looked out over the sweeping lawns, feeling the heavy burden of the past months finally dissolve from my shoulders. 'I think I’m going to stay right here. Magnolia Hall needs someone who knows how to protect its roots. And besides... I kind of like running my own estate.'
Christian smiled, turning to face me fully. 'Good. Because I happen to know a very qualified forensic auditor who might need a reliable partner to help me manage the philanthropic foundation I’m setting up with my share of the Sterling assets.'
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I raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk touching my lips. 'Is that a business proposal, Mr. Sterling, or are you just trying to stay close to the best cook in Georgia?'
'A bit of both,' he laughed, reaching out to gently take my hand in his. 'Call it a long-term investment.'
