Page 64 of Mafia Don's Secret Twins

Johnny grins.

What the fuck is he doing here?

“You are here because of one thing and one thing only. You are to compete for my daughter’s hand in marriage,” he says, sinking back into his chair.

Slowly, we all follow suit. Costa and Spinoli switch so they’re no longer sitting next to each other, and Johnny joins my right hand side.

“Stupid move,” I mutter out of the corner of my mouth.

“Marco says hi,” he murmurs back.

Oh for the love of the fucking baby Jesus. “I don’t need a babysitter,” I hiss.

“I’m not a babysitter. I’m backup,” he sighs.

Fucking Marco.

“Shut up,” Benicio snaps.

Johnny goes still.

Stewing, Benicio glares at us. “I have been blessed with many things in life. But I have never been blessed with a son and heir,” he finally says.

That is a load of shit. Benicio has plenty of bastard sons.

For reasons that none of us can fathom, he won’t pick one of them to inherit his crumbling empire.

Well.

I suppose that’s the answer. He’s flat broke, so instead of offering his cartel to one of them, he needs money. A cash infusion that he’s going to get by auctioning Marisol off to the highest bidder. A man that’s sitting in this room. A man that, he assumes, will come with the financials of their own organization.

That makes me fuckin’ nervous.

If Benicio digs too deep, he’ll not only realize that my connection to the Drakos family is tenuous at best, but that there’s no financial reward there. Any resources that they might have had are not going to go to me.

I’m a bastard, in their eyes.

And I’m no one for the De Lucas either.

I swallow the bitterness on my throat. None of that matters now.

Right now, the only thing that matters is Marisol.

If I can get her out of here, then nothing else will fucking matter.

There’s two ways that this ends. First, I steal her from under their noses. Given the rather impressive security along the way, which has increased by about a hundred percent since the last time I was here, I’m not so sure I can do that anymore.

The second option?

Win.

And she’s fucking mine, fair and square. There won’t be shit that Souza can do about it.

But, it also means that I have towin.

Benicio looks around the room. “You are all here because you represent organizations that need my connections. I am here because my precious daughter, who is my only heir, means more to me than life itself. I will not allow her to just go with anyone. The man who marries my daughter must be worthy. He must prove himself to me and her, and there will be a series of trials. Each one is designed to show off how well you will do as my son, and how effectively you can assume my business.”

Great.

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