Page 22 of Mafia Don's Secret Twins

Fuck that.

I grunt and push back. She stares at me, wide-eyed, her chest rising and falling as her nostrils flare.

“Don’t move,” I grunt.

With that, I walk out and slam the door behind me.

I storm upstairs. Gia and Caterina are sitting at the kitchen table. Judging by the amount of food and the silence, they managed to cut the party short. There’s no longer a crowd of people floating around, and while I have no idea where the kids are, I assume they’ve put everyone either to bed or locked them up as well.

I can’t talk to the twins yet.

I…

I don’t even know if they know I’m their father.

The thought makes my stomach twist with anxiety. Instead of uncovering why I feel so sick at the thought of meeting my own children, I square my feet and look at the women sitting at the kitchen table

“Where’s Elio?” I bark.

Gia frowns at me. “He’s at the front gate, checking on the guards…”

The rest of the sentence doesn’t matter to me. I turn and spin, marching down toward the gate house.

The air is warm, unseasonably so, but that’s fine with me. It echoes the heat I feel from the hatred in my heart.

Marisol can’t marry someone else.

It’s been years. I never really thought that there was a future for us, sure, but she never so much as looked at another man. When I rediscovered her a few years ago, I was so fucking happy that she didn’t have a boyfriend or a husband.

I’ve been watching her ever since.

She hasn’t so much as gone on a date. Hell, I don’t think she’s even glanced at another man.

So for her to get married?

It’s not fucking happening.

She can’t marry you, idiot.

The thought nearly stops me in my tracks.

I’m not good enough for Marisol. I know that, beyond a shadow of a doubt.

But at the very least, I can make sure she doesn’t marry anyone else.

The gate house is full of people. I step inside, quietly filing in behind Sal.

Elio’s speaking.

“There are round-the-clock patrols. Do not let a single person enter this area who is not approved. No one goes in or out,” he says to the crowd. “We are on total lockdown. Nobody will come into this place of ours without our knowledge, and no one will leave. Do not underestimate the threat before us. Andrei Moretti has been trained as an assassin since he had his feet beneath him as a baby. Benicio Souza… I do not need to tell you what a threat he is,” Elio says calmly to the gathered crowd. “He will stop at nothing to get what he wants. Until Marisol can leave, and feels able to, we will ensure that our family, our people, and our organization remain safe. This is not our battle,” he says to the crowd.

Anger flares in me. Not our battle?

Marisol is mine. The twinsare mine.

Here again, the difference between us stands. When it is Elio’s family at risk, it’s all hands on deck.

But when it’s mine?

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