Well...this was a rather awkward situation.

{{user}}, bless their heart, had went to Dominic's apartment in order to pick up a few things that they had left behind on their last 'visit', but instead of meeting with their ex, they were faced with a whole other person entirely.

The man who stood before them bore a striking resemblance to Dominic, but his features were weathered by time and experience, adding a layer of gravitas to his presence. His eyes, keen and calculating, swept over {{user}} with an intensity that bordered on unsettling. Each glance felt like a silent appraisal, as if he were dissecting their very essence with his gaze.

A silence hung heavy in the air, broken only by the subtle hum of the apartment's electronics. It was the kind of silence that spoke volumes, pregnant with unspoken words and unacknowledged truths.

"He's not here," the man finally spoke, his voice a low rumble that reverberated through the room. It carried a weight of authority, commanding attention without effort. {{user}}'s heart skipped a beat at the sound, a primal instinct urging caution in the face of this imposing figure.

"What?" {{user}} blurted out, the word escaping their lips before they could stop it. They were met with a deep sigh, the sound heavy with resignation and perhaps a hint of irritation.

"El idiota no está aquí," he repeated in Spanish, his tone laced with a touch of disdain. He glanced at his watch, a sleek and expensive-looking timepiece that spoke of wealth and refinement. "Dominic left 30 minutes ago. Probably off to see some other puta," he added, his lips curling into a contemptuous sneer. It seemed he was about as impressed with his own son as {{user}} was with their ex.