For a second, Veer’s father froze, utterly stunned, his grip on the at tightening until the veins in his forearm bulged. Then, slowly, his hand began to tremble.
"You... you..." His finger shot out, quivering as it pointed directly at Kaya, his voice rising with fury that made the walls seem smaller. "What the hell did you do to my son?!"
As his father’s furious shout echoed through the house, Kaya didn’t so much as flinch. Instead, she tilted her head slightly and rolled her eyes, as if his voice was nothing more than an irritating buzz in her ears.
Veer’s father froze mid-rage, staring at her in disbelief—no one had ever dared to dismiss him like that.
Veer, however, only turned his cold gaze on his father and snapped, his tone sharp as a blade, "Glorious voice, father BUT! Can’t you see that my wife is eating?"
His father whipped his head toward him, stunned beyond reason. For a mont, he looked at his son as though he were staring at a complete fool. "Veer... are you out of your mind?" he thundered. Then, shifting his glare back to Kaya, his voice dropped into venom. "And you—shaless woman—you’re still eating?!"
Kaya, who had just taken her last bite, calmly set her chopsticks down. Lifting her gaze, she t him with a disgusted look, a silent dismissal that cut sharper than words. Without saying a thing, she rose from her seat and walked toward her room, her steps slow, deliberate, and heavy with indifference.
Veer’s father’s face turned red with fury, his entire body trembling. It felt like the ground itself was quaking with his wrath. In all his life, no one—not a single soul—had ever disrespected him like this. And yet this slip of a woman had just walked away as though he were nothing.
And then his eyes fell on his son.
He opened his mouth to complain again—but the words died in his throat. His gaze froze, and his whole body shuddered as though struck by lightning. For a mont, he thought his eyes were deceiving him. But no... it was real.
Veer—his son, the very boy he had raised in his palm, the child he had protected like a precious jewel, never allowing him to lift even a finger—was now bent over the table.
His son was cleaning.
Cleaning the scraps, the greasy bones of the at that wretched woman had eaten. Collecting the chewed bits of food she had spat out as though they were nothing more than filth.
His chest tightened. He actually clutched his heart, gasping. It was unbelievable. Unforgivable. The son he had raised with pride... reduced to this.
When Veer finished collecting the bowls, he stacked them neatly aside on the table. Then, with a faint frown, he turned to his father and spoke in an irritated tone.
"Dad, do you not even know the manners of knocking? How can you just enter like this?"
His father froze, utterly bewildered. This—this was the sa son who used to barge into his house without a word. The sa son who once mocked him, saying, "Dad, are you crazy? Who even knocks on the door?"
And now... that sa son was lecturing him about manners?
Veer’s father walked forward, setting the at down heavily, his hand trembling as he pointed at him. His voice cracked, full of disbelief.
"Veer, I do not understand you. You have hundreds of girls—girls more beautiful, plump, sweet-voiced—any type you like, you could have them! So why... why are you still stuck with this wrench?"
Veer’s amber eyes darkened, the warmth in them swallowed by sothing sharp and dangerous. His jaw tightened, and when he spoke, his voice was low, rough, almost a growl.
"Dad," he said slowly, every syllable thick with warning, "mind. your. words."
Veer’s father’s brown eyes darkened, his jaw tight as he stared back at his son. His voice ca low, teeth gritted faintly.
"Veer, are you threatening ?"
Veer shook his head slowly, though his amber eyes burned hotter, darker.
"No, Dad. I’m not threatening you. I’m warning you. Watch your tone whenever you talk about my sweetheart."
That word—sweetheart—seed to ignite the father’s fury further. He gave a bitter laugh, almost a cough, and then jabbed a finger toward Kaya, his words cutting like glass.
"Oh? Did I say anything wrong? Look at her! This woman just stays in the house, eats your food, enjoys your roof, and what does she give back? No respect. No gratitude. And you—" he sneered, "—you call her sweetheart? Wife? Tell then, did she even agree to marry you? What, huh?"
Veer’s jaw tightened, and for a mont he seed to bite back the storm rising in his chest. His tone was louder now, but steady.
"Dad, she has the right. If she wants, she will. If she doesn’t, she won’t. She doesn’t need to be my wife to stand by . She is enough, just as she is."
The words struck like betrayal. His father coughed out a harsh laugh, shaking his head.
"Ha! And here I thought I raised a son. I’ve never heard such cowardice in my life. Spineless! A bastard of a son who bows to a woman like this!"
That was the spark. Veer’s fury erupted; his wings tore out from his back in a violent spread, feathers shaking as his voice thundered.
"Dad!"
In the next instant, the older man’s wings burst forth too, dark and commanding, filling the space as he glared into his son’s face. His voice was sharp, goading, full of venom.
"What? Did I say anything wrong?"
Suddenly—
BAM!
Kaya’s door flew open, slamming against the wall with such force that the walls seed to tremble. Both father and son froze, their wings still unfurled, as their heads snapped toward her.
Kaya stood there, gaze blazing.
"Lower your voices."
The command fell like ice water over them. Instinctively, Veer’s shoulders dropped, his wings folding back in. It was as though a switch had been flipped inside him.
"Okay, Wifey," he muttered, almost sheepishly.
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