My heart stopped when I saw his face in the doorway.
It wasn’t just the shock of seeing him after all these years—it was the weight of everything he represented. My father. The man whose absence had shaped so much of my life. The man who had never really been there for me.
He looked exactly as I remembered, only older, with his sharp jawline more pronounced and his dark eyes still holding that same steely intensity. His presence in the room was like a force of nature, pushing against the small bubble of peace that Alexander and I had created.
I felt Alexander stiffen beside me, his body going taut, no doubt sensing the change in the air. He was standing beside me, but I could tell that in his mind, he was already preparing for whatever came next. The calm between us had evaporated, replaced by the tension that had always followed my father’s presence.
"Leila," my father’s voice cut through the air like a blade. His tone was smooth, controlled, but there was something cold beneath it,
