Mafia Don’s Secret Twins: Chapter 23

The rain feels incessant at this point.

It is, actually. According to the news station, which I briefly overhear on the radio as I walk the halls of my father’s home like a ghost, this level of rain is starting to cause problems in the flood plains along the river.

I sigh.

I wish it would cause problems here.

Nothing short of an act of God will help me now.

My footsteps echo on the stone floors as I meander through the compound.

This is what I’ve been reduced to.

Pacing.

Pacing the halls. Pacing my room. I spent a restless night last night just… turning, until I finally got out of bed and decided to pace around instead.

I can’t do this anymore.

Something has to change. But I can’t change anything.

I’m just…

Stuck.

The door to the house creaks open, and my father comes in. I freeze; I’m not sure that I want to talk to him.

Well.

I definitely don’t.

But unfortunately, he’s already seen me. His face seems to… soften. Slightly. “Marisol,” he rumbles. He collapses onto the living room couch, dismissing Paolo as he does. “Come sit with me.”

Cautiously, with all the awareness of a mouse creeping in front of a cat, I pad into the room.

“How are you?” he says after a minute.

I blink.

I don’t remember the last time that my father asked how I was.

“Andrei tells me that you have been enjoying the pool,” he continues.

If I could glare at Andrei, I would, but that would give too much away. “I like to swim.”

“I know. Why do you think the house has a pool?”

I blink.

“The house has always had a pool.”

“Well of course. Your mother told me when you were a baby that you enjoyed water. It was your birth month, or something like that,” he huffs. “Honestly, I didn’t know, or care. She said to build you a pool and so I built you a pool.”

I raise an eyebrow. “I thought this house used to belong to Ricario Pinto?”

“He did not have a pool, Marisol.”

I’m confused.

It feels like my father is trying to say that he made modifications to the house… for me?

It’s not just the house. The whole place is a compound, literally built to hide criminals and allow them to engage in activities that the central government can do nothing about. It comes with a barracks, for the love of everything holy.

There’s no way that my father tried to make it family-friendly for…

Me.

“You had a lot of children, father,” I say quietly. “Any one of them could have enjoyed the pool.”

He stiffens.

The mention of my long-dead (and probably murdered) half-siblings makes his face go hard. He rises from the couch, coming closer to me.

I refuse to cower.

Benicio Souza and I stare at each other. My jaw sets in a hard line, and while I’m fearful of standing my ground in front of my maniac of a father, I instinctively know that giving in to him would be worse.

Benicio hates a coward.

Finally, he sighs. He turns, stepping back toward Paolo. I’m ready to leave as well, but my father’s voice echoes through the room.

“You and your mother almost made me think something… different.”

I freeze.

“I am not a kind man, Marisol. I do not think I ever have been. I have fought for everything, and I will continue to fight for it. The world is mine,” he says fiercely, aggressively, “and I will eliminate anything and everyone who stands in the way of what I want.”

That’s more like the Benicio Souza I know.

“But…” his voice lingers.

“For you and your mother? I thought maybe, for a minute, I was more than just the monster.”

With that, my father leaves the room.

I do turn to look at him, then. But it’s too late.

He’s gone.

My heart twists.

My father is a nightmare, one that I’ve been afraid of for a long time. I’ve never seen him as human; just a monster, like he said. I’ve certainly seen him be capable of monstrous things. I’ve seen him destroy everyone: family, friends, without so much as blinking as the blood splatters on his face.

But why hasn’t he ever come for you?

I used to think it was because of my mother.

But I’m here. Trapped, sure. A prisoner, definitely. I’m here against my will, and while I’m trying to protect my mother and my children by staying here…

It never really occurred to me that my father might genuinely have something other than cold-hearted calculation about us.

I frown as Andrei approaches me.

He looks me up and down. “You do inspire something in people, you know.”

“What?”

“I know what your father means. You make a man think of something other than the terrible ways of the world. I can see why he wishes to protect you,” he murmurs.

I know it’s meant to be a compliment, but I resist the urge to wince.

Is that the reason?

Am I so soft, so utterly helpless, that I inspire men to protect me like some kind of fairy tale princess?

The thought… disgusts me.

I am not soft.

My shoulders tense, and I look at Andrei. “I do not need to be protected.”

His eyes cloud with confusion. “Marisol…”

“I have carried and given birth to not one, but two children. I have navigated the swamp that is my father’s influence. I am the product of both my father and my mother, and they are both fearsome people. You look at me like I’m some kind of… doll,” I spit.

Andrei is visibly confused now, but I’m on a roll.

“I’m not fragile. I’m not broken. I’ve survived in ways that you couldn’t think of, because they don’t involve violence or harm. I chose to be here, Andrei, to protect people I love. I don’t need you… infantilizing me,” I finish.

I don’t let him say anything.

Turning on my heel, I march toward the pool.

Andrei, as always, follows.

When we get there however, I pause at the door.

The pool is… flooded.

There’s no other way to explain it.

The beautiful marble floor around it is covered in an inch of grimy, smelly water. I can hear the sound of a pump running somewhere, but clearly, it’s not working. The pool itself is a dark brown, stained with mud that’s slowly seeping in from somewhere near the bathroom.

The rain.

“Let me take you out of here, Marisol,” Andrei says gently. “We can get someone to fix it, but it’s not safe right now.”

He’s not wrong. Flood waters contain more than just mud.

But something about the scene makes my heart beat with apprehension.

I turn to look at Andrei. “Has my father ever had a flood risk assessment done on this house?”

“No, miss. We’re halfway up a mountain. There’s no reason. Any water runs downhill, and the river might flood, but I doubt we would be in any danger here.”

Noting that I’ve been downgraded from “Marisol” to “miss,” I nod. “I see. Well. In that case… I guess my room will do.”

Another time to be locked in my room. With nothing to do.

That’s just great.

I sigh.

I’ll put on some athleisure clothes and pretend that I’m going somewhere. Then, I’ll stare at the wall and contemplate why every man in my life considers me to be incapable.

I’m so tired of it.

But there’s nothing I can do about it.

Yet.