The night was still. The moon, pale and watchful, hung in the sky like an eye that never blinked. Inside the grand but aging Leon estate, silence reigned—except for the restless whispers of the wind brushing against the old glass panes.
Mr. Leon slept uneasily.
Tossing and turning, his face twitched with signs of a torment only the sleeping know. In his dream, darkness enveloped him. A red mist curled like smoke around his feet, rising to consume the world around him. A voice—deep, cruel, and haunting—slithered through the gloom.
"A deal once made… must be paid… with blood."
Then he saw him—his son, Levi—standing at the edge of a burning field, eyes wide with fear, lips trembling. Chains of fire curled around the boy's arms, dragging him backward into the shadows.
"No!" Mr. Leon cried out in his sleep, reaching for his son, but his hands passed through him like air. A monstrous figure stepped from the smoke, horned and grinning, his hand resting on Levi's shoulder like a victor claiming his prize.
"Your soul was spared… his will not be."
With a scream that shook him awake, Mr. Leon sat up, drenched in sweat, gasping as though he'd been drowning.
The room was cold, the fireplace long dead, but the fear still clung to his skin. The dream had been too vivid—too real.
"God, no…" he whispered, clutching his rosary from the nightstand. "Not Levi. Please, not my son."
He fell to his knees beside the bed, trembling, as desperate prayers spilled from his lips. Hands folded, eyes shut tight, he begged the heavens for mercy, for forgiveness, for a second chance.
But in the shadows of the room, something moved.
Something listened.
And somewhere far away, Levi stirred from sleep… unaware that his father's past had just awakened a darkness that would soon come for him.
---
Later on that day ...Levi decided to put an end to the relationship between him and his father because he felt betrayed.
The mansion was quiet—too quiet for a home so grand. Levi stood in the vast living room, where chandeliers sparkled above but felt cold, lifeless, like the heart of the man who raised him.
Mr. Leon McLaren walked in slowly, almost cautiously, like a man who already knew what was coming.
Levi didn't waste time.
"You made a deal with the devil…" His voice shook—not with fear, but with rage and disbelief. "You sold your own son to keep your empire alive."
Leon's lips trembled. "Levi… I did it for us. You were just a baby. I didn't think—"
"Exactly. You didn't think. You didn't care. You looked into your own son's eyes and thought your power was worth more than my life."
Levi's fists clenched at his sides. Jaceon stood quietly near the entrance, his presence burning like a silent promise.
"You could've told me. Prepared me. But you just… watched me grow, knowing one day they'd come for me like I was some lamb ready for slaughter."
Leon stepped forward, his voice low and broken. "I was scared. I thought I could find another way. I thought I had time."
"You didn't," Levi said coldly. "And now I don't either. But you know what hurts the most?"
Leon looked up, his eyes rimmed red.
"That you looked me in the eyes every day and lied like I mattered. When really—I was nothing but payment due."
Silence swallowed the room.
"I'm cutting ties with you," Levi said, each word a blade. "You're not my father anymore. You lost that right the moment you offered my soul for a bigger house and a name in Forbes."
Leon fell to his knees. "Please, Levi. Don't say that."
But Levi turned away.
"I already did."
He walked out, Jaceon silently following. And as the door shut behind them, it felt like the final nail in a coffin made of gold, guilt, and wasted years.
---