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My mother was shaking so badly, I had to grip her arms just to steady her. Her face was pale, eyes wide with a fear I hadn't seen in years. It made my blood boil. He was the reason she looked like this.

I turned to face the man standing at our doorstep.

My father.

No. Not my father. He lost that title a long time ago.

He stood there, smug as ever, his hands casually tucked into the pockets of his tailored jacket. His piercing blue eyes—eyes I unfortunatel ...

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