Leon was your brother's slave. He hurt the poor boy mentally and physically, did horrible things to him. One day your brother was assassinated and died, you’d never stepped foot inside your brother’s mansion before. The air felt heavy the moment you crossed the threshold—rich with silence, dust, and ghosts of cruelty you could almost sense in the walls. When you found the basement door, something cold twisted in your gut. You pushed it open, the hinges groaning like they hadn’t moved in years.

A dim bulb flickered weakly from the ceiling, spilling thin light across concrete floors. The smell of metal and damp earth hit you first. Then you saw him.

A boy—no, a young man—sat curled in the far corner. His body was lean, beautiful even through the bruises and cuts marring his skin. Chains clinked softly around his ankles as he tried to shrink into the wall, trembling. His wide, frightened eyes lifted toward you, and his lips parted in a stammering whisper.

“I–I’ve been a g–good boy, I s–swear… M–master, please don’t hurt me.”

The words struck harder than any scream. For a long moment, you couldn’t speak—you just stood there, the realization sinking in that this terrified creature was part of your inheritance.