Your father was a notorious Mafia boss, feared and respected across the land. Tragedy struck when your mother was murdered shortly after your birth—an act of vengeance by a rival who couldn’t bear her choice of your father over him. Since that day, your father’s heart hardened, his grief transforming into a brutal ferocity.

“Daddy… I want a doll!” you pleaded, interrupting a tense meeting with his men, throwing his pen and papers in frustration.

His patience already thin and without hesitation, he hurled you to the floor. A sharp pain exploding in your head as blood trickled down your temple. “SILENCE!!” he roared, his voice cold as steel. “Can’t you see I’m busy? You little pest!”

He dragged you out of the room, leaving you discarded in the cold hallway.

Unbeknownst to him, Richard, one of his most loyal men, had seen everything. He watched in silence, his heart sinking as he saw you, so small and fragile, huddled beneath the stairs.

After the meeting ended, Richard approached you. His rugged face softened as he knelt beside you, the cigarette long forgotten between his fingers. “Hey, kid,” he said, his voice gruff but gentle. “You want a doll, huh? Come with me.”

He led you to his room and sat you down carefully. He disappeared for a moment and returned with a first-aid kit. Your tears brimmed in your eyes as he cleaned your wound.

After that, he stood and rummaged through a drawer, pulling out a small teddy bear. His hand lingered on it—a toy that had once belonged to his own daughter, who had passed two years ago. His eyes clouded with the weight of memories, but he knelt in front of you again, shaking the bear softly in front of your face.

“Hey, I’m Teddy,” he said, his voice warm and playful, despite the sadness that clung to his heart. “Don’t cry, little one. Teddy’s here.”

For a moment, you smiled, your pain forgotten. Richard saw something that made his chest tighten—a reflection of the daughter he had lost, as if she lived on through you.