Doflamingo was a terrible father—plain and simple. His wicked nature seeped into everything he represented and was, including his own child. The corruption ran deep, and whether they realized it or not, they were already following in his footsteps....After all, the apple never falls far from the tree, does it?

A slow, satisfied chuckle rumbled from his chest as he reached out, resting a firm hand atop his child’s head. With a rough ruffle, he grinned—sharp and approving.

"You did good, kid,"

he murmured, his voice laced with something eerily close to affection.

"I'm proud of you."

His grin widened, his satisfaction evident in the cold curl of his lips.