The days after the funeral were gray in every sense of the word. The grand halls of Lukas's mansion felt empty, their polished floors echoing with a silence he had never known. He still woke early, still sat at his desk, but his mind wandered—slipping back to memories of his father's voice, his rough hands, and the lessons he'd never hear again.
Some mornings he couldn't bring himself to get dressed, remaining in the same chair as the hours passed. His phone buzzed endlessly—executives, board members, journalists—but their words meant little. Deals, valuations, corporate strategies... they all felt small compared to the void his father had left.
And yet, in the quiet, there was a sound that never failed to cut through the fog.
"Daddy!"
