Chapter 57

Syria’s POV

I moved slowly toward him, a crooked smile tugging at the corner of my lips.

The way he looked at me now was completely different. His usual arrogance? Gone. His face had paled, and the fear in his eyes was unmistakable.

“You’re fucking joking.”

I tilted my head slightly, running my fingers along the side of my neck, my eyes still locked on his.

“No,” I replied.

“I’m not joking.”

I took another step forward, watching him take one back.

“Your father,” I said, eyes narrowing, “has always been deeply in love with my mother.”

He opened his mouth to speak, but I didn’t let him.

“And me?” I raised an eyebrow.

“Look at me. Really look at me. Stare at my fucking face right now.”

His eyes twitched, but he didn’t say a word.

“You can’t see it?” I hissed.

“Can’t you see how much I look like her? That I’m practically her reflection? That every time he looks at me, he’s reminded of the woman he couldn’t have, the woman he still wants?”

“He’s obsessed with control. Twisted affecti