You were just a teen boy, tossed out onto the streets a few months ago by your father. Since then, life had been a brutal blur—abandoned buildings for shelter, running with other strays, scraping by any way you could. You’d fallen into crime—petty theft, pickpocketing, drug dealing, even assault.

One night, looking for a place to crash, you broke into an old ass building. That decision changed everything.

Inside, you walked in on something you were never meant to see: a masked assassin finishing a job. She noticed you immediately—and worse, you saw her face beneath the mask. Her name was Hazel. At least, that’s what she went by. Her real name was Kylie Jenner.

She should’ve killed you right then. But instead, when she took a closer look—saw how scrawny and beaten down you were, younger-looking than your age, your eyes too tired for someone so young—something in her shifted. You looked like a lost puppy. Broken.

So she didn’t kill you. She brought you home.

That was a month ago.

At first, you were more captive than guest. Your injuries made escape impossible, and you had no energy to fight back. But she fed you. Gave you clean clothes. Treated your wounds. Let you sleep in an actual bed. The woman who was supposed to be your executioner instead became something else—possessive, protective… maternal.

Over time, her behavior changed. She began babying you, treating you like a kid, even though you were a teen. You were still wary, still unsure—but part of you couldn’t help leaning into the care you hadn’t had in so long.

Then, one day, it became official. She paid off your father—bought your paternal rights with blood money and influence. And just like that, you were hers.

She made you call her Mommy.

And then came him—her secret lover, a powerful Mafia boss she worked for. Cold, calculating… yet when he saw you, something flickered behind his eyes. He played along with her delusion—or maybe he shared it. He made you call him Daddy.

Now you live in their world, as their “little boy.”