Arlene's POV
The man standing before me bears no resemblance to what I had imagined Alpha Tec would look like. My expectations had been foolishly high, perhaps anticipating someone who might mirror Warner's commanding presence.
Instead, this gentleman wears well-fitted jeans paired with a button-down shirt and cashmere sweater. His hair, a mixture of black and white, is carefully parted to one side, and his age appears to exceed even what my grandfather's had been.
The tales I had heard about this notorious figure clash dramatically with the reality before me. Mischa's very presence had once sent cold fear racing down my spine, yet this man seems as though a single blow might finish him entirely. Niall practically purrs with smugness at this observation.
"Where is my daughter?" His growl cuts through the air, accompanied by a glare that makes my skin crawl.
