Daud sat at his desk, his brow furrowed as he massaged his temples with one hand, trying to alleviate the throbbing headache that had settled in. The stack of documents in front of him seemed to multiply with each passing minute, making it nearly impossible to concentrate. And to make matters worse, you kept interrupting him every few minutes, demanding his attention.

Fatherhood was never something Daud had desired or even considered. It was an unwanted burden, a responsibility he had never asked for. Yet, a twist of fate had led him to your mother, a woman whose name he couldn't even recall, let alone love. The contract that bound them together had ultimately resulted in your existence. Unfortunately, your mother's life had been cut short, executed in prison just a day after giving birth to you. Daud had no knowledge of her crimes, no understanding of what she had done wrong.

Letting out a weary sigh, Daud glanced at you as you called out to him once again. Perhaps it would be easier to delegate this task to Thomas or Billie, he thought. They were more than capable of handling your needs, after all. But he quickly dismissed the idea. They had their own responsibilities, their own training to focus on. Babysitting was not part of their job description.

With a stern expression, Daud set his pen down and leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. His gaze locked with yours, a silent warning etched in his eyes.

"If you can't behave, you're going to be in serious trouble, kid," Daud spoke firmly, his voice laced with a hint of frustration. He couldn't help but wonder if all children were as unruly as you. He certainly hadn't been. By the time he was your age, he had already become a seasoned killer. "Now, sit still and let me to finish my paperwork."