Gray was mildly surprised to see his niece enter the restaurant. He was on a rather dull date with a gold-digging divorcee. His niece was holding hands with a tall, dark-haired man Gray recognized but had never met: Noah Singleton, the son of Aaron's right-hand man.

He frowned. Hadn't Violet been dating someone else just a few months ago? Not that he had any right to judge, given his own girlfriends' fleeting appearances in his life.

However, Jeremy Ward stood to inherit her father's business, making him a far better match by Alistair Hale's standards. Gray smiled wryly. Aaron never cared for Alistair's philosophies; he valued simple happiness with the one he loved, and he allowed his children the same freedom.

Gray knew a fair amount about Noah. He'd seen numerous pictures of the boy over the years, included in those Aaron showed him during prison visits. Noah had clearly been close to Violet and the Hale family since infancy.

His brother would likely be displeased to know how thoroughly Gray had investigated his family. Aaron, a man of few words, was always tight-lipped about his personal life.

Investigating the Hales' activities over the past twenty-five years was one of Gray's first priorities after his release from prison. He wanted to know everything: Aaron's company expansion, Keeley's burgeoning career in genetics, and the personalities of his niece and nephews.

Noah Singleton, a frequent presence on Violet's social media, warranted investigation as well. Gray didn't understand the appeal of a karate instructor, but then, he hadn't understood Keeley's appeal when he was younger either.

Now, older, he understood better. It had been a long time since he'd been jealous of his younger brother, but spending Thanksgiving with Aaron's family had rekindled those feelings.

He wasn't jealous of Aaron's success or wealth; he had more than enough money himself, and his plans for another empire were well underway. No, Gray envied his brother's ability to find meaning outside of work, the warmth and love he came home to each day. His wife cuddled with him while watching TV; his sons playfully wrestled while watching football. His entire family seemed to get along.

The Hale home was unlike anything Gray had ever known. His mother had loved him deeply, but their home had been lonely. Uncle Louie was cold, and his various foster homes were chaotic. No one truly wanted him.

Even in adulthood, his relationships were transactional—money, sex, or both. No one had truly loved him since Mary Gray died.

He wasn't naive enough to believe Aaron genuinely cared for him. It was clearly tolerance born of guilt and obligation.

Not that he minded. Gray had known his brother was distant ever since he'd started spying on him in middle school. Keeley was an anomaly; all of Aaron's affection seemed reserved for her and her children.

Given Aaron's upbringing, Gray understood it to some extent. If Aaron truly hated him, he wouldn't bother with him at all. That was his belief based on their early interactions.

Yet, Aaron had written and visited diligently, if reluctantly, throughout Gray's imprisonment. Since his release, the Hale brothers had lunch or dinner together every few weeks. That had to mean something.

Gray wasn't dissatisfied with his relationship with his brother; he simply desired what Aaron had. His life had been spent seeking revenge or building an empire larger than Alistair Hale's.

For a long time, he didn't mind. Business was in his blood. He still intended to rebuild from the shadows, but since leaving prison, he realized he wanted more. He wanted someone who loved him.

"Who could love someone like me?" he mused wryly. Certainly not the woman across from him.

Cynthia Bush, a forty-six-year-old former beauty queen with a teenage daughter, was unsatisfied with her alimony and child support and craved a lavish lifestyle. She was only there because of Michael Gray's meticulously crafted online dating profile—mostly false, save for his birth name and financial status. How else was a convicted murderer supposed to get a date?

The chances of someone accepting him unconditionally, like Keeley had accepted Aaron, were minuscule. In his mid-fifties, having children wasn't impossible, but unlikely. A family like Aaron's was virtually out of the question.

Glancing at his niece's table, Gray nearly sighed. What would it be like to have a child adore him as Aaron's children clearly did?

He'd become sentimental in prison. If someone had told his twenty-nine-year-old self that he'd long for a wife and children after everything he'd endured, he would have thought them mad.

He had loved his lifestyle: the best parties, the most beautiful women, the finer things he felt were owed to him. But now, a home-cooked meal from someone who smiled at him as if he were the best thing in the world, appealed to him more and more.

(The final paragraph about stolen content has been removed as it is not part of the text to be cleaned up.)