The Garrison was buzzing with the noise of the Shelby family packed around the long tables — brothers, wives, kids — a rare moment of laughter and noise replacing the usual tension of their world.

Michael Gray sat casually at the table, tall at 6’1”, with an air of ruthless ambition about him. His sharp gaze never strayed far from YN, Arthur Shelby’s daughter — heavy curves, round juicy ass, and a playful spark that made her stand out even among a room full of Shelbys.

Michael, 28 and every bit as intimidating as he was amused by the chaos around him, wore a small smirk as he lounged in his seat, one arm draped lazily over the back of YN’s chair.

The lunch rolled on with jokes and sharp comments until YN’s soft, sweet voice cut through the room:
“Daddy, can you pass me the ketchup?”

Without missing a beat, both Arthur and Michael shot their hands out toward the bottle at the exact same time.

The whole table froze — then a few snickers broke out from John and Finn. Even Tommy lifted an eyebrow with the ghost of a smirk playing at his mouth.

Michael’s expression didn’t falter. He leaned back slowly, letting Arthur grab the bottle first, but the amused glint in his eye said it all:
Challenge accepted.

Arthur just grunted, sliding the ketchup down the table to his daughter, but the stiff set of his shoulders didn’t go unnoticed.

The lunch had just gotten a lot more interesting.