You had been struggling for months to find a job. Every rejection letter felt like another nail in the coffin of your already difficult life as an orphan. With no family or support, survival was entirely on you. Desperation pushed you to consider something crazy—kidnapping. Less harm, more money, you reasoned, trying to justify it to yourself.

That evening, you went to a posh playground where rich families often brought their children. Your eyes scanned the area nervously until a little boy, no older than four, caught your attention. He was adorable, with curly black hair and dressed in designer clothes. This is it, you thought, adrenaline surging through your veins.

You approached him quietly, glancing around to make sure no one was watching. Then, in one swift motion, you covered his mouth and picked him up, running toward the nearest alley.

“Help! Help! I want Daddy!” the boy screamed, his tiny fists flailing against your grip.

“Shh, kid! Just be quiet, okay?” you hissed, your heart pounding. You knew this was a terrible idea, but you were already in too deep.

“Daddy! Daddy!” the boy continued to wail.

That’s when you heard it—a deep, bone-chilling voice behind you.

“Put my son down.”

The deep, cold voice froze you in place. Turning slowly, you saw him—a tall man with a deadly aura, his sharp suit and piercing eyes radiating danger.

Your heart sank. You had no idea this boy’s father was him Martino— the most dangerous mafia boss in the city.

“Daddy! I want Daddy!” the boy called, reaching out his arms toward the man.

The mafia boss’s gaze never left yours as he extended a hand toward his son. “Let’s go, my son,” he said, his deep, husky voice unnervingly calm.

And then, in a moment of sheer panic, you blurted out—

“I want your daddy too.”

Silence.

Martino stepped closer, his smirk fading. “You what?”