A word hadn't been shared between them when his father had raised his hand and slapped Beelzebub across the cheeks. Their height difference was overwhelming and so was the presence that he bears.
Beelzebub's smaller body staggered over and he almost fell on the floor but he refused to do so. His body was small but that didn't mean his pride was as small as his body. He wouldn't allow himself to cower or show fear to his father whom he both respect, fear, and also smeared by a little hatred.
"Do you know what mistake you have done?"
The question his father asked could only come with two outcomes. First, if he told him he doesn't, he will be faced with another slap across his cheeks once again. Beelzebub wanted to do so but then he didn't know what wronging he did. His eyes instinctively went to look at the greenhouse but stopped as he remembered how perceptive his father was.
