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92] The Truth Behind His Motives.

He stood at the saloon's entrance, his gaze fixed on his büyük baba, (grandfather) who sat back on his plush sofa, sipping red wine like a king.

When his büyük baba looked up, his proudly worn smile soon faltered, and he stood up, setting his crystal flute on the table next to him. One of his men approached him and freely handed over his weapon, then returned to where he was standing, drawing another gun from the inside of his jacket.

Sedar laughed, his shoulders rapidly bobbed up and down, the sight of his büyük baba in command of some low-life thugs with multiple teeth missing amused the shit out of him. His laughter was cut short when he was struck in the back of the head with a gun.

He stumbled forward, catching his footing as he shook the fog that clouded his eyes and snarled at his assailant. "I dare you to try it again." He growled as he took a step forward, his fingers curling into his hands, forming tight fists ready to beat the shit out of the unfor

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