Though there were moments I doubted him, there were those small moments too where I hated myself for doubting him. His gaze was often distant, like a foggy horizon. He needed assistance, always relying on his cane, a serpent's tongue feeling the way. He was a riddle wrapped in sins, a silent predator. I knew because there was no way he was a saint.I read in an article about him that he was not born blind but was met with an accident. There were few details about the incident, only a few loose ends, which fuelled my curiosity. What could have been so powerful to change a man like Judas Romanovski into this?He wasn't any less powerful, of course. He was a billionaire, a titan of industry. His mansion, gilded in gold and opulence, was evidence of his wealth and influence.There were some things I had naturally come to notice about him. The teasing smirk that never left his mouth. The dangerous glint in his eyes, even though his gaze appeared distant. His aura forced me to submit and bo
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