Page 1 of Mafia Don's Secret Twins

PROLOGUE: DINO

8 years ago

Panama City, Florida

My phone buzzes, but this time instead of answering, I shut it off.

Marco is not going to fucking ruin this for me. Not again.

Will he be pissed when I turn it back on? Sure. But honestly, I don't fucking care.

Marco isn't my boss. He’s my older brother but acts like he’s my fucking keeper. No, Marco isn’t going to ruin this trip for me.

If our dad called, then I might be worried.

Dad, however, will absolutely not call. I know that for a fact. He won’t call. Not when he can task Marco with it.

Not when he doesn’t now, and hasn’t ever, given a fuck about me and what I do.

I put the phone in my backpack, where it hopefully will fall to the bottom and I won’t have to fucking think about it again until I'm on my way back to New York.

Marco is going to be livid. However, that’s a future problem. I’ll handle that when the time comes.

But for now?

I’m in a motel. In Panama City, Florida. The room isn’t much to look at, but the view?

Damn.

There's a stretch of powdery soft white sand in front of me, curling as far as I can see in either direction. The ocean is a beautiful jewel-toned blue, and I swear to fucking God, there are dolphins just at the edge of the horizon.

I'm on spring break. Like a normal fucking human.

And I'm going to enjoy the hell out of it.

"Yo, D. We doing this or what?"

I turn, leaving the view from the cheap motel’s balcony as I look at my friends. They grin back at me, and I’m immediately grateful for both of them.

Jayce and Brent.

They’re two completely regular guys that I met playing football. They're both from Jersey, both from regular boring-ass families who don't have to consider whether or not phone conversations or family associations will get them locked up on RICO charges.

The exact opposite of my family, basically.

In high school, I knew that I would rather hang with them than with my brothers. So, I did.

We’ve been friends, more or less, ever since.

"Fuck you looking at? The view?" Brent grunts.

Jayce laughs, handing me a plastic red cup to mix a drink into. "Yeah man. There’s nothing to fucking see right now until we find some fucking girls."

I nod. "Fuck yeah, man." I grab a handle of vodka and start pouring, ready to mix it with whatever the hell we packed to get the party started.

The party is the most important part.

That's the point of this trip. If I’m being honest, we're fucking losers. College drop-outs, or in my case, college non-starters. For whatever reason, Jayce had a football scholarship to Penn and lost it. Brent is... Brent. I don't think he ever applied.

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