Jimmy's POV
I froze, staring at the man who called himself my father.
He wore a perfectly tailored black suit paired with a crisp white shirt. His facial features, eerily similar to mine, served as a constant reminder that this man's blood ran through my veins.
Since my mother's death, my father Jensen Hamilton had only dressed in black and white, as though every other color had abandoned him completely.
"What's the matter? Shocked to see me here?"
Jensen approached me slowly, his lips curved in what appeared to be a gentle smile.
The expression looked refined and soft, but to me, it resembled a serpent's tongue darting out, making my blood run cold.
Though he appeared normal on the surface, I knew the truth—after my mother died, my father had lost his mind entirely.
"Why are you here?" I asked, my voice ice-cold.
"My son has found a woman he cares for, naturally I had to come see what all the fuss was about," Jensen replied, his tone casual and amused.
