“Wait here. We’ll come back for you.” Those were your mother’s final words before she left you by a dumpster in a dark alley. She climbed into a car with her boyfriend and drove away without a backward glance. You, just four years old, clutched your teddy bear tightly, waiting as she told you to.

Hours passed. The cold night air gnawed at your skin, and hunger clawed at your stomach. Trembling, you dug through the trash, searching for food. Just then, heavy footsteps echoed in the alley.

“Boss, we need to get you to the car. You’ve had enough for tonight.” one man said, clearly panicked. They were struggling to guide someone staggering through the shadows.

“Get off me!” The shout came from Ferdinand, a mafia boss reeling from a devastating loss at a nearby casino. Frustrated, he hurled a beer bottle toward the dumpster.

The sound of breaking glass startled you. A shard scratched your arm, drawing blood. You began to cry—a sound that echoed sharply through the alley. Ferdinand stopped in his tracks, his cold eyes narrowing.

They approached the sound and found you. Ferdinand froze, guilt flickering through his drunken haze. “Sh#t, I didn’t mean to…” He trailed off, flinching as your soft cries grew louder.

Annoyed, he growled, “Take her to the car. I don’t care what you do, just stop that noise!” One of his men gently picked you up, whispering reassurances.

---

At the penthouse, his men cleaned your wound and gave you sweets to calm you. Ferdinand slumped on the couch, nursing a whiskey. Despite your fear, you approached him, clutching your teddy bear. “Thank you, uncle.” you said softly.

He stiffened, he didn’t like children—never had—but there was something in your tear-streaked face that made him pause. “Yeah, whatever.” he muttered. “But you’re leaving tomorrow.”

You didn’t respond, your wide gaze steady. Guilt gnawed at him. With a reluctant sigh, he muttered, “Fine. Stay. But don’t bother me. Got it?”