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Celeste stood in the Den; her mind flashing back to all the events that had been held there. This was the last time she would walk through the doors as an owner. Three young women had made her, Derry, and Devons an offer that they couldn’t pass up.

They’d just hosted this year’s Ball of Sin. It had been quite the celebration as everyone knew they were selling the place. Celeste didn’t attend every Den event anymore, but she and Caleb had enjoyed this year’s night of decadent revelry.

She wondered if the balls would continue or if the new owners would go a different direction.

Celeste smiled, still amused that only ladies would now run the Den.

A few years ago, England passed an act that enabled women to own property and businesses independently.

When she became a partner decades ago, a trust had to be established to protect her share of the club. The world was certainly evolving.

She ran her hand along one of the card tables, sadness piercing her heart. Celeste would miss the place. Still, it was time to let it go. So far, none of her, Devons, or Derry’s children had expressed an interest in the club. It was fine; their dreams were different.

The club needed fresh leadership—so much was changing in London. The classes and sexes were mingling more than ever. Even the Den, for years now, had admitted both men and women. Celeste was excited to see how the club would evolve.

It would be equally strange and exciting to walk back in here as only an attendee.

Not that she imagined herself frequenting the club often.

She and Caleb wanted to spend more time in the country.

Celeste glanced at their sons and suspected they would be here all the time, now that she wasn’t the owner.

Caleb walked up behind her and pulled her to him. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

She nodded. “Our sons have no interest in it, and Derry and Devons wouldn’t give it up if they thought there was any chance they could pass it down.”

He kissed her neck. “Aren’t your business partners supposed to meet us here to say goodbye to the place?”

She turned in his arms and brushed her mouth across his. “They are always late.”

“At least it benefits me.”

Her husband deepened the kiss, and she allowed herself to fall against him.

“Your children are here. Can you not horrify us?” Thomas, their eighteen-year-old son, groaned.

His older brother, by a year, Alistair, laughed. “Let them kiss.”

Thomas, who was named after her father, made a disgusted face.

He looked so much like Lord Burrows. Her father had passed five years ago, but Celeste was glad she had some years with him.

When he’d revealed she was his daughter to society, it had been a bit of a scandal, but their friends had made sure she, Caleb, and the Burrows didn’t weather it alone.

Caleb smiled at their sons. “I’m allowed to kiss your mother as much as I want.”

Both boys grinned at that. Derry and Devons, along with their wives, walked onto the balcony that overlooked the grand room of the Den. “We are here already, waiting on the Havens as always.”

Laughter filtered out of the office, and Celeste assumed their grown children were also up there, ready to celebrate one last time.

“I’m guessing you came in the back way,” Celeste stated.

Devons winked and shrugged before motioning for them to join them upstairs.

Thomas and Alistair bounded up the elegant staircase.

Celeste paused halfway up and looked around the Den one more time, imagining all the card games, fights, love matches, and scandalous balls that had happened in the space.

“Are you ready, sweetheart?” Caleb said, holding his hand out to her.

Smiling, Celeste nodded, “Yes, I am. It’s time.”