Page 45 of Mafia Don's Secret Twins

I glare at him.

“I promise, it will be better if you breathe.”

“Fuck you,” I snap. “There’s no fucking way this could be better, Marco.”

He raises his eyebrows.

I feel the rage boiling inside of me, a lava flow of darkness that’s pounding at my skin. I want to stand and punch him in his smug fucking face.

If he can’t talk because his jaw is broken, then he can’t say stupid shit like…

“I understand that this is a lot. But it’s true.”

If I had claws, I’d rip into him with them, right now.

“The. Fuck. Are. You. Saying,” I manage to grit out from between my teeth. My jaws are clenched so hard that I’m pretty sure one of my teeth just cracked.

I could just rearrange Marco’s face…

“No one knows, except Mom and I,” he says quietly.

I freeze.

Marco takes my sudden stillness as a sign to continue. “Dad wasn’t mom’s first choice for a husband. Right before she was supposed to get married, she went on a vacation to Greece with Zia Priscilla, and she met someone there.”

“How. The fuck. Do you…”

He holds up a hand. “Let me finish. She met someone there. I don’t think it started out as anything but a friend to talk to. She married dad. Then, after I was born, she ran away for a while.”

“What’s a while?”

Marco shrugs. “Long enough that she came back, and I had a baby brother before I was two years old.”

Oh.

“How the fuck do you know this?”

“Apparently you look like him,” Marco says softly. “She wrote about it in her journals. I read them all, after she died. I was cleaning out their stuff and I found every single one, and I read them.”

Jesus fucking Christ. The amount of pain in Marco’s expression makes my chest ache. “Fuck, Marco,” I spit.

“She thinks Dad probably knew, but never said anything.”

“And she just… wrote this down.”

Marco shrugs. “Mom liked to journal.”

“What the fuck else did she write about?”

His face drops, and his eyes look kind of hollow and distant. “You don’t want to know.”

I’m still so stunned, I have no fucking clue why we’re even discussing this.

Until I remember.

“How the hell is this supposed to help me get Marisol back?”

Marco nods. “There aren’t that many families who she would have known when she was there.”

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