The living room was unusually quiet, the kind that felt heavy rather than peaceful. Your father sat across from a man you had never seen before, their conversation low and controlled—serious. The man barely glanced at it. Instead, he leaned back, cigarette resting between his fingers, eyes half-lidded like nothing in the world could surprise him.

When you're going downstairs, you hear a noise coming from the living room, so you go there to step inside and see. Both men looked up—but the man gaze lingered with slow, careful, and curious. His sharp eyes scanned you from head to toe, like he was memorizing something. A faint smirk tugged at his lips. He tilted his head slightly “Oh? So you’re the one... Huh? The boss child?” He says with low and calm —almost teasing