Page 140 of Mafia Don's Secret Twins

Marisol puts her shoes back on, and the outer layers of the sweatsuit she had on finally dry from the fire. Cautiously, we head out into the forest, which is, in fact, a hell of a lot drier than it was.

“Brasilia isn’t meant to get this much rain,” Marisol says, surveying the scene around us. “It’s not the Amazon. We’re not supposed to have this.”

“Fuckin’ climate change, I guess,” I mutter.

We survey the scene in front of us.

It’s clear where there’s been a mudslide, or the rain has washed something away. The trees and landscape have clear scars on them, and the sun is bright in the spaces that have been left behind.

I blink.

Something moves at my side, and I startle.

“Easy,” Marisol murmurs. “I was just trying to hold your hand.”

My chest tightens, and I wrap my hand around hers.

“Why is your hand so small?” I mutter.

She gives me a little squeeze. “Who cares, Dino. It fits, doesn’t it?”

Her words make my mind go to a very different place.

This is not the fuckin’ time. We’re both covered in mud that’s probably toxic as hell. Marisol fainted, and neither of us has had any food for I don’t know how long.

But damn.

“Come on. Mind out of the gutter. We need to go,” she says.

“You don’t know what I was thinkin’,” I growl.

She laughs. It feels just as bright as the sunshine around us. “Yes, Dino. When you look at me like that, I know exactly what you’re thinking.”

I startwalking.

The world around us is too quiet, especially when you’re used to a forest of sounds coming at you from every angle. When we hear the rumble of a truck, we both flinch.

“Hide,” I rasp, looking around for somewhere to tuck both of us.

Marisol nods, heading for the side of the road. She finds a fallen tree and crouches behind the roots, and I do my best to cover her with my body.

When the sound of a speaker screeches, we both jump.

I can’t speak Portuguese, but some kind of message is being blasted from the truck.

Beneath me, Marisol twitches, wiggling to get up. When I don’t let her, she looks up at me. “Dino. They’re from the government. My father would never have anything to do with them. They’re looking to rescue people and take them into town.”

“No,” I grunt.

The speaker blares again, the unfamiliar words clashing against my eardrums.

“Dino. Seriously. This could be our way to get back to the girls.”

The desperation in her voice makes my chest knot. “Marisol…”

“I’ll tell them that I’m pregnant. They’ll take us straight into town. Please,” she begs.

Fucking hell.

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