A MILLIONAIRE’S SON SHOUTED EVERY NIGHT… AND NO ONE WANTED TO KNOW WHY.
It was almost two in the morning in the old colonial mansion on the outskirts of town when the silence was broken again, as always, in the worst way.
A sharp, piercing scream echoed through the long, cold corridors, bounced off the high walls, and raised goosebumps on the few employees who were still awake. There was no doubt. It was coming from Leo’s bedroom again.
Leo was barely six years old, but his eyes carried a burden that did not correspond to his age. That night, like so many others, he struggled with his father, desperately trying to break free.
James, a successful businessman and recent widower, was still wearing the wrinkled suit from the day before. The deep dark circles under his eyes and his taut jaw betrayed weeks without sleep. He held his son by the shoulders, summoning a patience that no longer existed.
“Enough, Leo,” he growled. “You sleep in your bed like a normal kid. I need to rest too.”
With a sudden movement, he pressed the child’s head against the silk pillow, perfectly positioned on the headboard. To James, it was just an expensive pillow, another detail of the luxurious life he had painstakingly built for himself.
But for Leo… it was torture.
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