Oliver (Owen)'s POV
"That isn't necessary, Nick," I said carefully, trying to mask the unease in my voice after Victoria told me about the welcome party her father had planned at their estate.
Nicklaus only gave a soft chuckle, the lines on his face deepening with the weight of all they'd been through. "It is, Owen. Trust me—my wife's already halfway through the preparations. She's been longing to do something like this for months. How can I possibly tell her no?"
I studied him for a moment—his posture a little straighter than before, his voice steadier. But I could still see it in his eyes: the scars of Zenith's fall, the ache of all that was lost.
"I understand," I said with a slow nod. "It's just… a celebration feels strange after everything."
