Mafia Don’s Secret Twins: Chapter 12

Bernadino Drakos.

I still can’t believe it.

Is he under some kind of assumed name?

How did he get here?

Has that always been his name, and I just didn’t know it?

What is he supposed to be an heir to? He can’t say that he’s here for the De Lucas. He also can’t be here as a Rossi.

Drakos…

It sounds Greek. Is it Greek?

I’m sitting on my bed, staring at my hands. I’m still wearing the stupid evening dress. I have no idea where all of the… candidates are sleeping.

Or if they’re even here.

I don’t know what my father has planned for them. Knowing him, I’m very sure that it’s something brutal and unspeakable, but I can’t imagine that he’s going to kill them all right away.

Potentially.

The dress is beginning to dig into my sides. I shift, but I still don’t move to take it off.

Dino. Bernadino.

Drakos.

Do I even know him?

There’s a slight sound at my door. I freeze, then notice a small piece of paper shoved underneath.

This could be…

Well. Honestly, I have no idea what it could be.

I creep over to it and retrieve it.

Unfolding the paper, I blink twice reading the message.

Meet me in the garden.

There’s no additional information. Nothing that would signify who sent the note. I don’t know how to explain it, but the handwriting doesn’t look Slavic, so that rules out Pavlovic and Volkov. Costa’s English isn’t very good, and neither is the Frenchman’s, if Andretti’s information is accurate.

Leaving me with Johnny… or Dino.

I’ve never even seen his handwriting.

In a normal world, I’d know what his handwriting looks like. It would be on school forms for our girls. It would be all over everything that we do together, as a couple. Maybe he would have even written me a card or a note, something for our anniversary.

This is not normal.

I squeeze my eyes shut.

The note doesn’t say when I should meet this mysterious person in the garden. Only that I should.

How the hell do any of them even know about a garden anyway?

My father’s estate is… well. Closely guarded, to say the least. It’s not something that he advertises, especially because it would also advertise his weaknesses.

But someone knows he has a garden.

And someone wants me to meet them in it.

I would.

If I could get around my guard dog.

Cautiously, I open the door to my room and peer into the hallway. Andrei is nowhere to be seen, which feels…

Well.

Even if I can’t see him, I have no doubt that he’s there.

He might not be watching right outside of the door, but he wouldn’t be Andrei Moretti if he simply walked away from guarding me.

Shit.

Quickly, I duck back into my room. My heart is pounding in my chest.

If Dino is here, that means….

It means nothing.

I put a hand over my heart, trying to calm it down. There’s something in the jumping rhythm that’s making me feel almost sick.

I know why.

The strange fluttering in my chest, the way that I feel kind of… like I’m waiting on something.

I’m hopeful.

Dino came here, and now I’m hopeful.

Tears press against the edges of my eyes, and I put my head into my hands.

I feel so stupid for feeling hopeful like this.

Hope is a worthless emotion. Feeling it right now is just my traitorous body, or something like that. Dino and I don’t have a connection. We aren’t lovers, and we aren’t dating. We’re not married. There’s no rational reason why Dino would come, because there’s nothing for him to come after me for.

I need to stop hoping.

I need to address the realities.

Biting my lip, I sigh. “Okay Marisol. Let’s look at this from the beginning,” I whisper to myself.

The reality of the situation is that there are too many unknowns. I don’t know why Dino is here. It’s stupid of me to think that he might be here for me. That he might have come here to save me.

Given that I clearly don’t know him after all.

Bernadino Drakos.

His name, the one he gave, makes my stomach roll again.

If he is the heir to some long-lost mafia family, a Greek one at that, then…

There it is. Sure as a punch to the gut, the air puffs out of my lips softly at the realization.

Of course there’s no reason to be hopeful. I know exactly what is happening.

Dino didn’t come here for me.

He did come here for something. I’m part of that something, but I have no doubt he wants the same thing from me that all of these other men do.

He wants a piece of my father’s empire.

It makes sense. Dino’s a second son. He’s been his family’s black sheep, or so I understand, for quite some time. Dino never intended to come after me.

He’s coming after an empire.

The tears fall from my eyes. It was silly to think that Dino would try to come for me. Clearly, I told him everything that he needed to know about this competition, about my father.

About what was at stake for him.

He knows exactly why my father needs a new heir. He knows about the debt, and he knows my father’s greatest weakness. He might even be trying to use me, and our connection, as a way to get a leg up on the competition.

I look down at the note.

Hope.

What a stupid thing to feel right now.

I crumple it, and toss it aside. Instead of giving in to hope, I harden myself.

I need to do what’s best for me. I need to choose a life that I can give my daughters. What I need to do is not entertain thoughts of some random person in the garden.

I need a strategy. Moretti is the closest thing that I have to one.

So that’s what I’m going to do.

I’m not sure what happens to the little note. I turn, leaving it behind without looking back.

I definitely do not go to the gardens. I’m not going to go tonight, nor any other night.

When I climb into bed, I don’t think of the note.

Not once.

Or at least, that’s what I tell myself.

Without any more information from my father, I assume that my days should function as normal.

The following morning, I get dressed. I walk out to have breakfast like normal, and Andrei follows me into the small breakfast nook next to the kitchen.

Just like normal.

I sit down. There’s no one in here. No staff, no security. Nothing and no one, except Andrei and myself.

I turn to him. “Are we supposed to be somewhere?”

He shrugs.

Turning back to the empty table, I sigh, frustrated. “It would be helpful if my father wanted to clue us in to what’s happening today.”

“His choices don’t change what we are doing.”

I glance at Andrei after he says that. “What?”

Andrei looks down, an uncharacteristically nervous gesture. “I had thought that we might go to the beach while the… festivities begin.”

“The beach?” it’s not impossible. The beach is probably somewhere around an hour drive, less if we take the helicopter.

“The beach,” he confirms.

I…

I can’t leave Dino.

The thought is buoyed up by that stupid, asinine feeling of hope. Again.

How many times do I have to remind myself that there’s nothing there for me? That Dino isn’t here for anything other than the empire that I possess.

The empire that he wants.

The empire I gave him the keys to.

Except one, I guess.

Andrei is the safer choice. He will definitely be able to get me out of here, and he won’t mistreat me.

He’s already said so.

Dino hasn’t promised me any of that.

I open my mouth to say yes of course, I’d love to go to the beach with you, but there’s a moment’s worth of hesitation.

And it’s just long enough that the door to the small room next to the kitchen slams open.

“Marisol!” my father yells.

I cringe. “I’m right here.”

“Come,” he commands.

Both Andrei and I watch him go. I turn to Andrei with a rueful smile. “Rain check?”

He looks confused.

“It’s an English phrase. It means that we’ll have to reschedule our… beach day to another time.”

The word date had been on the tip of my tongue.

But this is not a date. It absolutely can’t be a date.

I don’t want to date him.

I can’t ‘date’ him, not in the conventional sense. I need him to protect me.

And that fact alone makes me so angry that I have to take a minute to breathe before I get up to follow my father.

I hate this.

I follow my father out the door that leads to the garden. The irony of this isn’t lost on me. For a split second, I wonder if whoever it is that sent the note knew about this… whatever’s going on.

It’s not possible. I didn’t even know what was happening in the garden until now.

However, there’s not really much time to think.

All six competitors are in the garden. There’s kind of a big space, marked with crushed stone and benches, that marks the entry into the winding pathways that the garden contains. In this space, they’re all gathered.

My father gives me a glare, and I walk over to him. He’s seated in a patio chair next to a small iron table, and gestures for me to have a seat. I do, but not before Andrei takes out the chair so that I can sit as well.

Once I scoot in, I can see Dino’s eyes are glued on Andrei.

The violence promised in them makes my skin pebble.

“Well, it is probably no secret that the… six of you,” my father sends a nasty glare toward Dino, “are here to show me that you are strong enough to have a place in my organization. Part of that, of course, is that you must actually be strong enough.”

Oh no.

I know where this is going.

I cast a look back at Andrei, whose face is completely impassive.

Turning back to the gathered contestants, I pick at the edges of my sundress.

This is not going to be good.

“One time, I was in the middle of the Venezuelan jungle. I had just been betrayed by my business partner, who attempted to expose me to the United States DEA. Instead of being arrested, I ran into the forest, convinced that I would be able to survive.”

Despite myself, I’m kind of interested. My father has not once told me anything about himself, and certainly nothing about his past.

He smirks. “In order to find my way home, I entered into a… fight club? I think that’s the word you would use. I knew that the only way to get back to my business and destroy my former business partner was to fight.”

Benicio pauses, and for one second his eyes linger on me. “I did have some help,” he murmurs. Then, his eyes shift back to the group, and he booms, “But that is not the point. You will not always have help.”

Interesting. Why did he look at me? I don’t have long to wonder, because he stands, raising his arms like he’s some kind of Cesar. “The first of three trials will be this. You will fight each other. There are no rules, except there are no weapons. The last man conscious will be the victor,” my father booms.

The contestants all shuffle. None of them seem to be intimidated or confused, but they do seem like they’re… ready

Or like they’re getting ready, anyway.

My father gives a broad, scathing grin. He turns to the group and says one word.

“Begin.”