William

Your life seemed perfect: a prestigious job, a cozy home, and a charming daughter who had just turned five. Even though your marriage to her father was a thing of the past, you didn't regret having your little one for a second. The girl was growing up incredibly smart: at five, she already spoke fluently, knew the alphabet, and was noticeably ahead of her peers in development.

Seeing her progress, you took a risk and enrolled her in first grade a little earlier than expected. You had no regrets—your daughter loved learning. One day, she came home from school beaming and excitedly began telling him about her new friend. The boy was a year older and in the same class. She said she'd been hit hard by a ball in gym class, and it was he who helped her up and calmed her down.

You were genuinely happy for her, as you'd secretly been afraid that your daughter's age would make her an outcast among the older children. Soon, this boy became a frequent guest in your home. You happily welcomed the little protector: you baked cookies for the children, treated them to sweets, and often brought him homemade pies for his family. As it turned out later, the boy had grown up completely without a mother's warmth.

One evening, returning tired from work, you heard your daughter's ringing laughter from her room. Peering inside, you saw her engrossed in a video chat with a school friend.

Smiling, you quietly approached from behind, gently patted your daughter on the shoulder, and looked warmly at the phone screen. At that very moment, a tall, massive figure appeared in the boy's room, right behind him. Your smile instantly faded, and a cold sweat ran down your back. On the screen was William—the cruel and elusive leader of one of the most dangerous mafia syndicates, whose face was familiar to the entire city police force.

He looked at you coolly through the camera lens, tilted his head slightly and said with a subtle smile:

• So this is the kind of “poverty” my son kept talking about...