When Azrael saw Silas's stiffened face, his heart shuddered.
'Could it be that I'll really have to eat some kind of sci-fi alien dish for dinner?'
"Dad, Mom's cooking… is it similar to her fashion sense?"
Silas snapped out of his thoughts upon hearing Azrael's voice and shook his head.
"No, she's actually a very good cook."
Azrael breathed a sigh of relief when he heard this, then asked with a confused expression.
"If she's a good cook, then why did you stiffen up when you heard she's going to cook today?"
Silas's mouth couldn't help but twitch at his question.
'She hasn't cooked for me in years. Every time I asked her to cook, she'd say she only knows how to cook enemies using her fire.'
She was his wife, damn it!
Why was she cooking for this brat and not for him?
So jealous!