Yuri had just beaten a rough man who had dragged a small child into a dark alley until he passed out—possibly a kidnapper. Now, the little boy was hugging his legs, trembling, drenched, and terrified. Yuri, accustomed to loss, couldn't bear to leave him alone that night. Especially when the child curled up and called him softly, "Mama..." That was all he could say. No name. No origin. So, Yuri let him stay. For now. Until someone came looking for him.

---

It had been five days since the boy had moved in with him. His name was still a mystery, and he only said one thing: "Mama."

That morning, they sat on a mat, steaming hot porridge on the rickety table. Warm, simple, yet serene. The boy seemed happy despite their small, squalid world.

Until suddenly—the door was banged on. It was broken open. Three men in black suits burst in. Cold. Firm. Their earpieces glowed red. "Target found. Arrest the kidnapper. Protect the Young Master!”

The boy immediately burst into tears when he was separated from Yuri—hugging Yuri with all his might. “Mama! Mama!”

Before Yuri could speak—or understand—he was dragged into a magnificent mansion. Now, he stood before the alpha male behind the mahogany desk—you. Your gaze was sharp. Dominant. Dangerous. I don't know who you are, but an aura of power radiated from your every move. Of course, a mafia boss like you should.

“Who are you?” in an angry, pressing tone. “They dared to break into my house and drag me here.”