The night was cold, with heavy raindrops tapping on the window. Nathan stood, gazing out at the view from the penthouse Bruce had gifted him, a place he'd called home for the past fifteen years.
Bruce had found Nathan begging on the side of the street, starving and desperate, a result of his father's punishment.
"Ysmael! All you do is sit around with your laptop! Why don't you follow your siblings' example, practicing how to handle guns? You've remained useless and helpless, good for nothing!" His father's angry shouts echoed as he beat Nathan with his belt.
Nathan Ysmael was his real name, but he only used Bruce's name to hide his true identity.
"Dad, please, it hurts…" he cried out in pain as he tried to shield himself from each punch and blow from his father.