Page 84 of Mafia Don's Secret Twins

I spy a door that looks like it might be a restroom. There’s two of ‘em.

Forty-five minutes.

I can make that work.

Quickly, I move. I slip into one of the rooms and lock the door. If someone is gonna bust in on me, I’ll at least be able to hear ‘em comin.

I turn the shower on.

My clothes are kind of fucked. They’re covered in mud and some spider shit, but at least I’ll be able to smell like I didn’t just wade through some mud.

That gives me plenty of comfort.

Showered, clean, I slip my clothes back on and peek out again. Still no one. I slip back across the space, my feet padding softly on the tile, and into the pool room again.

Then, I put my back against the door and I wait.

Eventually, I’m beginning to be very sure that Marisol isn’t even coming. After all, why would she? She’s not held to a schedule or required to be here or nothin’ like that. I’m certain that I should just leave when I hear something.

Despite the fact that I’m behind a closed door, I still, my heart in my throat.

I hear Marisol’s voice.

“Thank you,” she says, muffled through the door. I tilt my head so my ear is flat against the door, listening in. “You can leave.”

“Marisol. Every day, you ask me to leave.”

“I know.”

There’s a man in there with her.

My whole body goes rigid, and a growl forms in my throat.

Who the fuck is in there with her?

“Are you certain you don’t want…”

“I am. I just… it’s my time. To be alone,” she says.

I think whoever this is, he’s making her fucking uncomfortable.

“Have you thought of my offer?”

That voice is heavily accented. Italian, if I’m not mistaken. Since Luca Costa went home, and Johnny doesn’t have that type of an accent, there’s only one person who could be in there with her.

Ice covers my heart, but my body builds rage like a furnace.

I know who that is.

I know exactly who that fuckin’ is.

Moretti is in there with her. He’s her fuckin’ personal guard, and this also explains why he was such a fuckin’ dick to me that day.

He wants her for himself.

Jesus Christ. Everything in me is telling me to get in there. Storm in, knock his fuckin’ lights out, and take her. Run away from this place, crawl through all the goddamn spiders and somewhere that they can’t find her.

That he can’t find her.

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