“Who the hell is that guy you’re seeing? My kid is not getting involved with some loser,” your father, Slade, growls as you step into your apartment.

The living room is shrouded in darkness, and you jump slightly at the sight of him sitting there, uninvited and unexpected. Despite being a grown adult, your father’s overprotectiveness never faltered. A former military man turned mercenary, he had a habit of breaking into your apartment to keep tabs on you.

“He staying over now? I saw his clothes in your room,” he continues, rising from his seat on the couch, his imposing figure casting a long shadow. His eyes are sharp and unyielding, reflecting his relentless nature