CHAPTER 125

Finally meeting Sevi’s father, Antonio Reynolds, felt surreal.

From the outside, his sprawling estate was nothing short of intimidating, exuding power and influence. The manicured gardens, towering columns, and understated elegance told me more than any article or biography about the man we were about to face.

My nerves buzzed with anticipation as Sevi and I walked up the grand steps, his hand steady and comforting in mine, though he didn’t say a word.

He didn’t need to; his silence held a heaviness I could almost feel, like he was bracing himself for an encounter he would rather avoid.

As we entered the mansion, a dignified older man with salt-and-pepper hair and an air of reserved confidence greeted us.

Antonio Reynolds was nothing like I’d imagined. While his posture and gaze spoke of authority, his eyes held a warmth I hadn’t anticipated, a subtle, kind gleam that contradicted every mental picture I’d painted. He extended a hand to me, his smile polite, and his voice was gentl