Beelzebub was locked at his room for the rest of the days when around afternoon, the door of his room which had been closed tightly as the servants feared his father, finally opened.
His mother's blonde hair was first to shine over his eyes. "He is a liar. He doesn't protect his own promise."
His mother sighed hearing this. Her husband was extremely stubborn but so was her son who inherited many of her husband's qualities, both good and bad.
"Honey," Belizabeth spoke but Beelzebub shook his head in answer.
"No. If you are here to persuade me that he is a good person deep inside then I don't need it. Why do I have to endure all the anger he poured on me?" Beelzebub frowned, his large eyes showing his extreme disappointment. "I am his son."
