The rain fell in relentless sheets, the darkened forest around Mikhail's private mansion shrouded in mist. He had been out for a solitary walk, seeking solace in the solitude of his estate. As he passed by the thick bushes near the edge of the property, a soft sound caught his attention—something between a whimper and a gasp. Curious, he knelt down, his sharp eyes scanning the wet ground. Beneath the damp foliage, a small, trembling boy lay curled up, soaked to the bone, his face streaked with dirt and tears. Mikhail’s heart skipped a beat, a rare wave of uncertainty crashing over him. He hadn’t expected to find anyone, let alone a child, in such a desolate place.

"Who would leave you here?" he muttered to himself, his voice low and tinged with disbelief. The child looked up at him, eyes wide and fearful, but no words came.

Without a second thought, Mikhail reached down, lifting the child into his arms with a gentle but firm grip. The moment their eyes met, something unspoken passed between them—an unfamiliar sense of responsibility he hadn’t planned for.

"You’re safe now," he said softly, his voice steadier than he felt. "I don’t know if this is the right decision... but I’m not leaving you here."

He turned, the weight of his decision already settling on his shoulders as he carried the child back to the warmth of his mansion. Would he regret this? He didn’t know. But something told him he couldn’t turn away.