Randall's POVA sigh escaped my lips as my eyes fell on the portraits of my father hanging on the wall of my study.When I was younger, I used to stare at those portraits with pride, admiring everything about him — his strong jawline, his hands that barely fit into his shirt, that fire in his eyes and the confidence he wore like a crown.Years after his death, I still couldn't stop doing that. For some reason, I always felt his watchful eyes gazing at me through those portraits.But now, those pictures didn't inspire me. They haunted me.They reminded me that I was yet to fulfil the promise that I made to him at his grave.Justice.Retribution.Revenge.Juan opened the door and walked into my study, bringing me out of my train of thought.“Alpha,” he bowed, his voice cutting through the silence. “The Rogues have been captured. Our men have them tied up at the Pack Square,” he announced.I didn't even look at him. “Not now, Juan,” I muttered, waving him off. When he left, I downed the
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