The next morning, Adrian was lying in bed with a woman.
The sheets were tangled, the room filled with the smell of wine and smoke.
He was half-asleep when his phone started ringing.
He groaned, picking it up lazily. "Who is this?"
"Sir," came a voice on the other end, shaky.
"Your father—he's been shot. Damian… Damian shot him. He's in the hospital."
Adrian's eyes flew open.
"What?"
He sat up so fast the woman beside him stirred in surprise.
"Repeat that!"
The man stammered. "Your father… was shot in the leg. He's alive but—"
"When did this happen" Adrian asked him angrily.
"Last night sir, he went to see Damian and he got shot so I rushed in to take him to the hospital".
Adrian didn't wait to hear the rest. He threw the phone down, grabbed his shirt from the floor, and dressed quickly.
He was texted the address of the hospital.
The woman called his name, but he ignored her, already storming out the door.
