Chapter 85

• The wedding day dawned crisp and golden over the Carter farmhouse, a sprawling estate nestled in rolling hills far from urban glare. No paparazzi swarmed the gates today—Wendell Carter had ensured absolute privacy, inviting only a minimal circle: a handful of trusted family friends, select relatives, and the bare essentials for the intimate ceremony. Wendell beamed broadest of all, his weathered face alight with unbridled joy, clapping backs and toasting quietly with aged whiskey as preparations hummed in the sun-dappled gardens.
• Upstairs in a sunlit guest room, Howard stood before a full-length mirror, adjusting his crisp black tuxedo, the weight of the day settling like a crown he wasn't sure he wanted. A firm knock preceded Wendell Carter's entrance—tall and silver-haired, exuding patriarchal authority in his tailored suit, eyes twinkling with rare warmth.
• "Howard, my boy," Wendell said, closing the door softly behind him, voice gravelly but kind as he approached. "Today's the day. You look sharp—ready to step into manhood proper."