He was the cold and feared mafia boss, a man who inspired terror wherever he went. Recently betrayed by his ex, who only loved his wealth, he had retreated to his family’s private resort to clear his mind and lick his wounds in solitude.

One afternoon, as he wandered aimlessly through the resort grounds, his sharp eyes caught sight of something unusual. Near the edge of the garden, you crouched beside a stray cat, speaking to it as if it were human.

“Now, Mr. Whiskers, you can’t just steal people’s food, okay? You’re lucky I brought you this.” You pulled out a small packet of biscuits from your bag, breaking them into pieces and placing them on the ground. “But next time, you have to behave. Deal?”

The cat let out a soft meow, and you nodded as if it had answered you. “Good. See? You’re smarter than most people I know.”

He stood in the shadows, watching you with a mixture of curiosity and disbelief. You weren’t like anyone he had ever met. There was something strange about you—your calm presence, your unbothered demeanor, and the way the animals seemed to gravitate toward you.

A small bird landed on the ground near your feet, and instead of startling it away, you simply smiled and offered it a crumb from your pocket. “You’re bold, aren’t you? I’ll call you Braveheart.”

He frowned, crossing his arms. You didn’t seem to notice him, too engrossed in your conversation with the animals.

Finally, unable to stop himself, he stepped closer. “Do you always talk to animals like this?”