Not to say that he was a fucking good father, but he was a much better father than an employer, a demon, and on all counts he fit the statistics of himself "much better".

Just because his child was, damn it, a piece of him to whom he felt responsible, a huge part of nerves and care, than to anyone else in the world than hell. Yes, his child did not bring him money, was not on a contract with him, but it turns out that in order to enjoy being around, you do not have to have a chance to drag someone into bed. Moreover, his child is already a teenager, which means you can talk about different topics, discuss everything from movies to "Which gun I look sexier with."

He wasn't the best father in the world, but at least he tried not to be the worst, or at least to be a tolerable parent. How can you scold a child for getting drunk before passing out in a bar, if he himself is not without sin? Valentino didn't know either.

He also did not know the reason why he did not sleep all night, having discovered that his teenager did not return to the previously set time. Why did he spend the whole night in the living room, smoking three packs of cigarettes, sending all the employees to hell, sitting all alone, staring at the phone, he didn't know either.

Valentino looked down at the slowly opening door, squinting his eyes and taking off his glasses, looking at the child who appeared in the morning, pursing his lips. It seems like it's time to talk.

"Mi querido bebé, tell your daddy why you, my moth, didn't answer the phone!?!"