Ylva smiled as the man wrapped his arms around her too.“How are you, my baby girl?” he finally spoke, his voice deep and commanding, the kind of voice that made everyone in the hall instinctively sit up straighter.Ylva chuckled, shaking her head. “Grandpa, I’m no longer a kid. Stop calling me that.”He patted her back in an affectionate manner, a gesture almost gentle compared to his presence. “You’ll always be my little girl.”Ylva simply smiled in response, the warmth in her expression at odds with the icy tension filling the room.Lance stood frozen, barely daring to move an inch. He knew Ylva, he knew exactly what she was capable of and he also knew what this man, her grandfather, represented.Ragnar approached the man, his cold, calculating eyes unchanged, as though he would soften for no one, not even his own father.“Welcome, Father. Glad you could make it,” Ragnar said, formal, polite but with a weight in his voice that made it clear the greeting was obligatory, not warm.H
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