He was ruthless, taking out his anger on the kid.

The little boy's eyes filled with tears, and Lyndon, ice-cold, said, "Mr. Bates, your son's messed up because you didn't teach him right.

Reflect on yourself before laying a hand on him."

Elmore stopped and smiled. “My bad. Just a kid's spat. I shouldn't have pampered him. And I was overprotective. How about this? Take your kid to the hospital. I'll foot the bill, no matter how much.

And throw in whatever compensation you want."

Elmore was trying to buy his way out.

Lyndon scoffed, "Money isn't my issue."

"What do you want from me?" Elmore inquired, his voice tinged with embarrassment.

Lyndon replied coldly, “How about we settle this with a taste of your own medicine? Your son has left mine with a swollen face, so I suggest you slap yourself fifty times as a form of apology."

Let him slap himself? Fifty times no less! That would leave his face puffed up like a balloon.

Seeing the unyielding look in Lyndon's eyes, Elmore clenched his teeth and said with a strained smile, "Alright, I'm at fault here.

I'll take the punishment."

And with that, he started hitting himself.

Lyndon watched with a mocking smile. "Put some effort into it. What is this, a gentle pat?"

Elmore was at a loss for words. He realized that unless he appeased Lyndon now, there would be no end to this.

Resigned, he started to slap himself harder.

Lyndon drew Sheldon closer, settling him on his shoulder, and placed headphones over his ears.

"Listen to the music."

As the boy nestled against him, absorbing the soothing tunes and gazing into Lyndon's tender eyes, a sense of being cherished washed over him, lighting up his face.

After the fiftieth slap, Elmore's mouth was bleeding, his cheeks puffed and bruised.