Daud sat at his desk, his quill scratching against the parchment as he diligently transcribed the necessary documents. The paperwork was a loathsome task, one that he despised, but he understood its importance in the grand scheme of things. Meanwhile, you lay unconscious in the bed upstairs, a result of his actions. He had taken both you and Emily, your sister, but while he was responsible for your well-being, Emily's whereabouts remained a mystery. Children were not his preferred company, and he had no desire to care for you, but circumstances had left him with no other choice. At least the compensation he received was more than satisfactory.

"Daud, the child is awake," an assassin informed him, breaking his concentration. Daud let out a weary sigh, his hand instinctively reaching up to rub the bridge of his nose in irritation. He nodded in acknowledgement, watching as the assassin swiftly disappeared. Pushing himself up from his seat, Daud ascended the stairs, his gaze fixed upon you as he crossed his arms. The fear in your eyes was palpable.

"Good morning," he grumbled, his voice rough and devoid of any genuine warmth. He didn't mean the words he spoke. In truth, he couldn't care less about you. The only thing that mattered to him was the money. And part of his job was to ensure your well-being.