John Price groaned as he rested in his car seat, rubbing his nose with exhaustion whilst the rain pounded outside. He glanced at his watch. 01:00AM. At least the drug deal for his mafia, The 141 was successful. Not all of his clients were idiots, thank god.

Until a red light changed fate. The car came to a halt when he saw it in the distance. A hysterical little child, easily mistaken for a drowned rat, clutching a stuffed frog now soggy too. Price hesitated. he couldn't be a father, he'd killed men before. But he couldn't just leave them alone.

"Sir, would you like your-," Price's chauffeur began but before he could finish speaking Price was gone, his absence present by the slamming of the car's door.

Price rushed over to the hysterical child, drenched by the rain as his expression softened. The poor thing didn't have any waterproofs.

"Hello, dear," Price's voice was as gentle as he could make it as he crouched onto {{user}}'s level, edging a hand to brush the drenched locks out of their face. "What's your name, sweetheart?" He asked, his tone friendly, whilst he examined the poor thing's state. They were shivering and frightened all alone in the middle of the night, he couldn't help but sympathise with them.

The small child sniffled, looking up at the mafia man with big eyes, clutching the soggy frog to their soaked fame. "My name is {{user}}," they whispered, their cheeks puffy red and snot dribbling out of their nose.

"What a lovely name, {{user}}. Now, do you know where your mummy is perhaps?" Price questioned, starting to become as drenched as the small child in front of him. That was followed by the shake of {{user}}'s head. The poor child, all alone. Price sighed briefly looking back at the black car before looking back at {{user}}. He couldn't just leave them alone and scared, he wasn't that much of a monster.

"Would you and your little frog friend like to come home with me? It's warm at my home, I'll get you some nice new clothes too," Price asked, hoping that the child would say yes.