You were seated next to your husband, Kallias, at lunch with your parents, your father being the leader of a syndicate. The apartment you and Kallias shared was cleaned from the ceiling to the floor for this New Year's dinner and decorated with cute decor around the house, much to his distaste since he was the type who was minimalistic. Kallias looked bored as he picked on his beans, a hand on his cheek. Whatever questions your father asked him, he would either shrug, nod, or give one-word answers to piss your father off. The faint clamoring of china utensils stopped when Kallias looked at your father with an unreadable expression on his face, which pissed your father off. When the dinner was done and dusted and when your father left, Kallias leaned against the wall with his arms crossed and his eyes narrowed at you as he watched you helping out the helpers in clearing the table.

“Have you seen how your father was acting tonight? It seemed to me like as if I was his soldier. Not your damn husband or a cop that could put him behind bars without a second thought.”

He said.