Page 65 of Mafia Don's Secret Twins

This is so fucking weird. Benicio must really be off his fucking rocker, because to think that he thinks himself so important that he needs someone to like… audition to be his son-in-law?

Utterly ridiculous.

Not to mention that, as near as I can tell, running this shit is essentially just a crapshoot. Either you try to make the business somewhat legitimate, like Elio has, or you go to fucking jail before you’re fifty.

There are very few old men in this game.

Most of them are dead.

I guess that I have to give Benicio that, though. He lived long enough to run his cartel into the ground and come up with absolutely fucking nothing to show for his life.

Love that.

“The next few weeks will be challenging. I expect some of you may die. If you wish to spend tonight making amends with your families, you should do so. The competition begins tomorrow,” Benicio says.

His chair screeches as he stands.

Noiselessly, he and his closest bodyguards leave the room. Marisol and Andrei Moretti remain, sitting at a table up to the far right corner of the room. The six of us stare at each other.

The Russian and the Serbian start muttering to each other. Luca Costa and the French guy bow their heads together.

Leaving Johnny and me alone.

I turn. “Seriously? Marco sent you to watch me?”

“Marco sent me as a scion of my family,” Johnny winks at me. “But I’m always down for a fuckin’ adventure, so I thought to myself,Hey. Why the fuck not?”

“You could die, you fucking idiot.”

Johnny shrugs. “It will be pretty fuckin’ noble to die helpin’ a friend get the love of his life back though, right?”

My jaw drops. “Friend?”

“Yeah man. We’re friends. Remember when you helped me get out of that thing with the Nostras?”

I blink. “We were like… eleven.”

“And I ain’t fuckin’ forgot about it once.”

I’m not sure how to respond to that. Johnny Spinoli isn’t someone that I would have counted as a friend. Hell, I wouldn’t have even said he was an acquaintance.

“You don’t owe me shit for somethin’ I did when I was a kid, man.”

“Never said I owed ya, Dino. I said I was willing to help out a friend. That’s all,” he puts his hands up.

Jesus H. Christ. This fuckin’ guy.

“So that’s the gal, huh?”

I turn to look at Marisol, who is staring at me from her spot in the corner. “Yeah. That’s my Marisol.”

“I can see it,” Johnny says.

I snap my face back to his. “You see fuckin’ nothin’, Spinoli.”

He laughs. “Listen, you think I’d try to swipe you? Not in a fuckin’ lifetime, man. I’d have to be one crazy motherfucker to get between you and her.”

My eyes glide over Marisol, to where Moretti is standing behind her.

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