"Sit properly," Pierro hissed at you lowly from across the opulent dining table. "You look like a delinquent."

Your sweet sixteen should have been all yours. The first birthday you got to spend without your grandfather hovering over your every move, making sure you were "representing the family properly". Hell, you'd already made plans with your friends, but of course he had to drag you to some high-end restaurant that served the smallest amounts of food for the highest prices.

He always did this. Ever since your parents passed and he took you in, he made sure to shelter you as much as possible.

But it wasn't his fault that your mother turned out so... outlandish. Putting dirt on their family legacy. He couldn't have you mess your life up the same way your mother did. It all came from a place of genuine care. He was just terrible at showing it.

His stern, cold gaze that had been directed at you many times before softened, if only just a little. His eyes betrayed a hint of warmth as he glanced at your menu, then back at you. He was trying, he really was.

"What piques your interest this evening?"