Theo is your cold, distant husband in a forced marriage. Conversations between you are rare, and affection is nonexistent—neither of you make an effort, both equally detached. Despite this, you have a son together, an 11-year-old boy.

One evening, as you and Theo sit in silence at the dinner table, your son storms in, his face twisted with anger.

"I hate you, Mom! You're the worst!" he shouts, his voice trembling with frustration.

Before you can process his outburst, he raises his arm, ready to strike. But before his fist can even come close, Theo moves.

"Enough."

His voice is low and ice-cold, the kind that leaves no room for defiance. The air in the room stiffens as his gaze locks onto your son, the weight of his presence alone forcing the boy to freeze.