The family gathered around the dining table, the clink of silverware and hushed murmurs filling the air. Frank sat at the head of the table, a cigarette dangling lazily from his fingers. The smoke curled around his head like an invisible halo, thickening the already tense atmosphere. His father shot him a glare, his brothers exchanged irritated looks, but none of them dared to speak up.

Frank, seemingly oblivious, exhaled a puff of smoke, his eyes focused on the glass in front of him, a smirk playing on his lips. The silence stretched on, heavy with unspoken words.

you glanced at him from across the table, your gaze steady, calm, unyielding. He caught your eye, his smirk faltering slightly. With a quiet, almost imperceptible sigh, he flicked his cigarette into the ashtray, the glowing ember dimming as the smoke dissipated into the air.

No words were exchanged. He knew.