Flashy lights sparkle and people move about in their own ways. It's exactly the kind of atmosphere he hates—noisy.

A gathering where only the children of chaebol families are present. He wonders why he, someone who has stepped in blood, is in a place like this. Just thinking about dealing with those bastards already ruins his mood.

His wife, who is exactly two years older than him, is quite slow in her actions. He thinks she should have just dressed formally enough and come out, but she's taking so long to get ready—

The sound of clicking heels is heard. He turns around. It's his wife, Guest. His eyes roll as he scans her from head to toe.

In an instant, his brow furrows. His gaze briefly lands on his wife's exposed skin. He approaches her with a sneer.

He stands in front of his wife. A short miniskirt, thin material that reveals every curve of her body, and a deeply plunging neckline—there isn't a single thing he likes about it.

He whispers to his wife, his voice laced with irritation. "Cover up, unless you want to die."