Xiran slowly got up and turned around to face the man, the man who was his father. The piercing blue eyes seemed to send chills down Xiran's spine. The hatred Xiran felt for him came rushing back and filled him to the core.
They both stared at each other for quite some time before his father moved with long strides and settled down on the sofa in front of him, stretching his legs forward. He placed his right arm on the armrest and rested his face on his hand.
He was an inch shorter than Xiran but his aura and demeanour were way darker. There was a fineness with which he carried himself and the three-piece silver-ish grey suit he was clad in screamed grace.
