A few days ago, Alex found himself lost in thought, his mind weighed down by an unsettling premonition.
With a cigarette perched between his lips, he exhaled a slow stream of smoke, his gaze fixed on the distance as he pondered the situation at hand.
He had always been certain that Tryson would achieve the greatness he had long envisioned for him.
And yet, for reasons he couldn't quite explain, an unshakable feeling of unease crept into his heart.
Something told him that, in some cruel twist of fate, Tryson was heading toward his own downfall.
Alex had always wanted the best for his son.
From the moment Tryson's mother first told him she was pregnant, he had vowed to ensure the boy's future would be nothing short of extraordinary.
He had only one goal—one unwavering ambition: the child who would be born under his name would accomplish the things he himself had failed to achieve.
