His [Book #1]

Chapter 17

Tristan's POV
It's been three days and she hasn't eaten, nor said a word. She's done nothing but lounge around in my bed all day.

Which in the beginning I was fine with, but now her depressive state is starting to take a toll on her responsibility as a mother.

My mother and sister have been the ones carrying for Mateo, which I have been very grateful for because I don't know a damn thing about babies.

Not to mention my lack of knowledge on how to be a father, as my own father never really taught me. He nurtured his Mafia more than he did me.

To him, I was simply a project. A project he at times abused whenever an ounce of liquor was in his system.

When he was sober I can honestly say that he was the perfect father. Kind, affectionate, and above all he showed me a kind of love that only a parent could give.

If he had abstained from picking up the bottle every chance he got, then I might've considered having him in my son's life.

When I first found out I was a father, to a son no less, I broke down in tears. I'm not an emotional man. In fact, very few things have the capacity to move me to tears.

But to learn that I had fathered a child, who for five months had no idea I even existed felt like someone had ripped my heart out of my chest and stomped on it repeatedly.

Which I find ironic considering I never wanted children. Children are a nightmare. They are ankle biting spawns from the deepest depths of hell.

At least that's what I thought until I saw my son for the first time. Looking at him made me tear up because all I saw was me.

An infant who just like me only saw innocence and knew no evil. An infant who unconditionally loved the mother who gave him life. An infant who made for the best hugs and could brighten your mood with merely a look of those youthful round eyes.

Just the thought alone brought tears to my eyes. I started to laugh amazed by the amount of wet fluid flowing from my eyes. No matter how hard I wiped, the tears just kept coming.

"Uh, my apologies boss, but your father would like to speak with you."

Speaking of the devil...

Sniffling, I quickly wiped the tears from my eyes and looked up at Angel, eyeing the phone in his hand. "Tell him I am busy."

"But sir-"

I simply glared, Angel no longer able to finish his sentence as fear flashed in his eyes. Gulping, he nodded and scurried out of my office to give my drunken bastard of a father my message.

I was in no mood to make conversation with the man who continues to leave my mother for months on end, so he can wet his dick. God knows what kind of diseases the old man picked up during his time in Venice.

Reaching into my desk drawer to grab a cigar, I retrieve my lighter from the inner pocket of my suit jacket just as my mother walks in.

"Are you seriously having a cigar while the mother of your child wilts away just a few doors down!?"

Proceeding to prep my Cigar, I place the head of the Cigar in between my parted lips before releasing a puff of smoke into the air.

Gently tapping the foot of my Cigar on the edge of the ash tray on my desk, I finally meet my mother's furious gaze.

"What more do you want from me, ma?"

"Excuse me?" Arching a filled in brow, she places her hands on her hips.

"I've given her everything. A roof over her head, a hot meal, and all the money and clothes she could ever want. For fucks sake, I gave her a child!"

Leaning back in my chair, I tilt my head back to blow more smoke in the air. "If it isn't her constantly complaining my ear off then it is you and Katya." Laughing, I lurch forward in my chair, my legs slightly spread apart. "What is it with you women never being satisfied?"

"Tristano Agostino Leone Lucci!" She's shouts in a motherly tone. "I raised you better than this. And I will not have you treating the women in your life, or any women for that matter with such disrespect!"

"So I'm not allowed, but pa is?" I counter, calling her out. "He treats you like shit! He continues to stick his dick in other women while you continue to play the oblivious housewife! Che cazzata(What bullshit)!"

She frowns. "This isn't about me and your father. This is about you! You claim you don't want to be like your father and yet, here you are acting just like him! You're just a hit away from becoming a damn near clone of him!"

"Guarda la tua fottuta bocca(Watch your fucking mouth)!" I snarl, baring my teeth in anger.

Rage overtakes me as I lunge across the office with my hand raised. The petrified look in my mother's eyes paralyzes me, the realization of having almost hit my mother causing me to leap back.

I fall to my knees, staring down at my hand in horror.

I almost hit my mother.

Maybe I am more like my father than I originally thought.

"Mi dispiace, mama(I'm sorry, mama). I... I didn't mean to-"

"Lo so, figlio mio(I know, my son)," she cuts in, her voice calm in an attempt to hide the fact that she is so clearly afraid of me. I hear the soft sound of footsteps, and then the feel of my mother's nurturing hands on my cheeks.

She lifts my head up so that I'm looking in her eyes. "You have to do better, Tristan. You can't keep lashing out like this. You are a father now. You have a family to think about."

I nodded, listening to her every word. She was right. If I continue doing this, then one day Sienna will run away with my son and I won't be able see either of them ever again.

This won't be like the last time she left me. This will be different. Because the next time she leaves me, I won't chase after her.

Which means this is my last chance to not only prove to my father wrong, but to prove to Sienna that I can be a father to our son.

I just have to do it the right way. And I will start by giving her the one thing she's wanted since the day I kidnapped her.

Her freedom.