Page 165 of Mafia Don's Secret Twins

I have a gun in my lap. Iason stands behind him with a pistol cocked at his side.

But looking at the guy in front of us…

A fucking heavy breeze could knock him out.

“What do you want?” I snarl.

The man winces.

Marisol gives me a look. “How can we help you, Mr.…”

“Rodriguez. I’m your father’s attorney,” he says quietly.

Marisol freezes.

“Say that again?” I rasp.

Looking for all the world like he’s about to get fucking dental work done, the man takes off his glasses and cleans them on his shirt. “I’m Benicio Souza’s attorney.”

“My father had an attorney?” Marisol asks, kind of dazed.

He nods. “Of course. He was a businessman, wasn’t he?”

“Well.. Yeah.. and… a criminal,” Marisol blurts.

The lawyer shrugs. “I specialize in very nuanced clientele.”

“That’s one way to fuckin’ say it,’ I mutter.

The man gives me a look, then turns back to Marisol. “I’m here to read your father’s will.”

She blinks. “What?”

“Your father had a considerable estate. It’s been six months since he passed, which you have my condolences for, by the way. I know how hard it can be to lose a parent who is so devoted,” he murmurs.

Marisol and I exchange a look.

“Get to the fuckin’ point, asshole,” I snarl.

Mr. Rodriguez gives me a look that’s usually only reserved for vermin, but continues. “Like I said. Your father’s estate has passed the legal six-month period, which it needed to hold steady for during that time to settle any of his outstanding debts.”

Fuck.

My mind races. If he’s trying to keep us on the hook for all of Benicio’s shit, I’m sure there’s a way out of it. Unless Marisol,as his last surviving child, is the one who has to hold all of the debt…

“Debt?” Marisol says.

The lawyer tilts his head. “Well. Those have been resolved, you see, during the six-month period that the estate was held in escrow. So debt was a part of that process, yes.”

Marisol droops a little. “He had a bunch of those, didn’t he?”

The lawyer frowns. “I’m not certain what you mean, madam. But I assure you that your father’s estate was in a very healthy place. It’s why I’m here today.”

It takes me a second to process what the small, drab man says.

Somehow, he takes the silence as some kind of an indication of our acceptance. He bends down, pulling a sheaf of papers out of his briefcase.

Both Iason and I jump, and the lawyer sighs again when he straightens.

---