Page 31 of Surprise Twins for the Mafia Heir

“It’s just, we need to be sure you won’t go running off trying to find him,” Jaime says. “The odds are he’s gone for good, or dead.”

I glare at Jaime. “Why are you bringing this up? Nick gave me the rundown.”

“Nick is a little soft around you and I need you to understand that if you go down, we all do,” Jaime says. “The only goal is for the Montoyas to be taken down. If you get in the way…” her voice trails off. Suddenly, the knock-off Starbucks isn’t as good. It feels like chalk sitting in my throat. My life has gone down the drain and it isn’t looking very promising.

“I get it,” I say, partially trying to convince myself. Jaime relaxes and swirls the coffee in his can.

“Sorry, I know it's intense when you’re knocked up,” he mutters. I don’t say another word. The day mixes with night, and like most other days, I forget what time it is. My body aches and I wish I could’ve just been shot in the right place to end my misery.

CHAPTER 18

Vinny

Jalisco has the best sunrise. The sky practically looks like a pot of melted candy as the orange meets with yellow. The blue takes over and it makes anyone forget about their worries back home. For me, this has been life. I hide out in a tiny hut with a mild-tempered woman named Marisol. I eat a heap of breakfast, lunch, and dinner. My beard has grown out, making me look like the spitting image of my grandfather. Showers are outside with the freshly washed towels Marisol cleans with rocks and cheap cleaner. The smell is immaculate — fresh soap and the openness of farm air. The city is only a few blocks down, but living in the middle of nowhere has its perks, too. The trees and wildlife are different from New York. The sounds of children and goats bleating make me feel like life in New York never happened.

Except that’s the thing. Life in New York did happen. It’s an ugly scar on the family name and I’m shocked my grandfather didn’t immediately have me taken out for embarrassing the bloodline. Thankfully, I severely misunderstood my grandfather’s undying loyalty for me. It took him three days to face me. I was thankful for those three days because Marisol prepped me on his temperament.

“These days all he does is eat and stay inside. He lets the young boys take over the violent stuff,” Marisol told me as she wrapped my tortilla. Eventually, her warnings calmed me. The day I saw him he looked a lot different than I remembered. Years ago, he was a fifty-something man with black and silver hair. His tattoos gleamed on his lean body and women were at his beck and call.

The man I met was different. He had a belly, thinning hair, and more lines around his eyes. I almost wished for the past when I saw him.

“Looks like we both changed,” he said as he stood in the doorway. I expected to keep my composure but I rushed over and hugged the old man. We reacquainted ourselves with beer and stories of my youth. I learned about his many failed relationships and he learned about my near-death run-in with my dad.

“Your dad went the other way,” he said finally. “The Montoya name wasn’t supposed to just be about power. It was also about respect.”

“Well, he’s got half of New York in debt to him,” I muttered. This angered the old man. He threw his empty beer bottle at the wall. The loud smash made me jump.

“This is why I dropped out,” he said after a while. “The new age kids have it all twisted.” It all started to make sense why my dad and grandfather stopped talking. My dad became a disappointment to his father. It’s a classic tale that played out sourly.

“What now? You’re the original Montoya. Can’t you do something?” I asked. He snickered and shook his head like I asked a ridiculous question.

“I’m in Mexico,hijo.What happens in the US is out of my hands,” he answered.

“But your family lives in the US. What about us?” I pressed.

He didn’t seem to care about the terror in my voice. “You all are men. If you need my help, you can come to Mexico. You’re here now, so there are no more issues.” Only there are plenty of issues. Rosa is the biggest. I knew I couldn’t stay too long in Mexico, especially knowing my grandfather wasn’t concerned about my life in New York. For that reason, I rested my mind for a few months before I prepared myself to go back.

“You could have a good life here,” my grandfather tells me now. He’s angry that I’m packing my bags. “You could marry and forget about all the shit in New York.”

I slam my suitcase on the ground. “I have a woman back there and I’m not abandoning her.” Rosa needs my help. Even if Nick pushed me away and claimed she was better off without me. I’m not giving up that easily.

“You might be done with the US but you’re the reason the family is in this business to begin with,” I snap. “I don’t wanna be like my dad so I have to fight back.”

My grandfather stares straight ahead like an angry teenager. “If you get killed that’s on you.”

“I’m done being a coward,” I say. “If that gets me killed, so be it.”

Once I’m back on New York soil I feel like a dead man walking. Any wrong move could be my last. My only goal is to locate Rosa. If anything else happens with my dad, I’m prepared to die. I don’t expect Rosa to want anything to do with me. I just need her to know how sorry I am for being so weak. The guilt and shame have been drowning me for months and I want closure. But the only way to find Rosa is to find Nick. Being that he’s now the top dog for my dad, there’s one sure way to find him.

Laretto’s Baris the only mafia-serving bar in town that forbids outsiders. The most dangerous men dine there and it's where a lot of deals are created. I used to go with my dad late at night to watch him settle scores with enemies or wage deals for people’s lives. It's brutal. So many shootouts and lives have been taken under those hazy blue lights that it’s like walking into the underworld. It’s my best bet though.

Once it's past midnight, I walk up to the backdoor entrance where Alec, the same bodyguard from years back, is standing guard. I brace myself as I walk up.

“Password?” he grunts. His eyes get big once he realizes who I am. “Vinny? Word around is you’re dead.”

“Word is wrong,” I respond.

He grins. “Yeah, well your boy Nick is holding the fort pretty well. Been talking about how he’s got his eye out for you.”

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