Mafia Don’s Secret Twins: EPILOGUE

Six months later

I’m going to kill that motherfucker.

I slam the door to my office open, the wood shaking as it cracks against the frame. With all the emotions raging through me, I can’t hardly hold myself upright.

The light breeze smells like lemons and lavender.

It’s fucking nice.

I can hear laughter out by the pool, and I know where he is.

My feet stomp on the teak floor around the pool deck. Nico and Marisol are watching the girls play in the pool. I can see Marisol’s mom, napping on her own chair under an umbrella.

My target, though, is my fucking cousin.

“Nico!” I bark

He turns from where he’s laid out, lounging in one of the chairs. “Yes, cousin?”

“Did you order fucking French wine for your goddamn bar?”

“Language,” Marisol sings gently.

I flare my nostrils. “Did you order freaking French wine for your bar?” I repeat softer.

The girls are still playing in the pool, clearly completely oblivious to the fact that I’m standing on the deck about to rip my cousin in half.

“French wine is for a higher-paying client,” Nico says, the smile curling across his lips.

Fucker. “You don’t have higher-playing clients.”

“But I want them.”

“Your bar was on the ‘Best Budget Travel’ for college student’s list. Your clients are university students from London, who are using their parents’ pin money to f…fund their vacations where they can fu… chase after anything that moves,” I seethe.

Fucking language. Editing my words is hard.

“Dino,” Marisol says softly. I release a breath as her hands drift over my shoulders, and I shudder into her touch. “Come hang out with us. You’ve been working all day.”

“It’s noon,” I grunt.

“And you woke up at four-fifteen this morning.”

I feel guilty about that, because when I woke up at four-fifteen, I woke Marisol up too.

“Sorry,” I mutter.

She leans in and presses a kiss to my cheek. “It was a really nice way to wake up,” she whispers.

Nico coughs something out in Greek, and I glare at him. “Don’t you have some fucking French wine to peddle to European teenagers?”

“The bar doesn’t open until…”

“Beat it,” I bark.

Nico rolls his eyes, but stands. He gives Marisol a kiss on the cheek before giving me a rude gesture.

I watch him go, my eyes narrow.

“Give him some credit, my love. He’s trying his best.”

“He isn’t doing shit,” I mutter. “He flirts with women who are barely legal.”

Marisol makes a sound and gently tugs my hand down, so we’re sitting on the lounge chair together. “A week ago I went down to bring him some dinner, and he was kicking out a group of men who were harassing a girl. He beat the hell out of them, without calling you for help. I think he’s doing his best,” she smiles.

That makes me feel a little better.

“Still doesn’t give him the excuse to bill me for a fuckin’ million dollars of French wine,” I grunt.

Marisol sighs and stretches out, facing the pool. I lean with her, pulling her against my chest.

“He’ll sell the wine. You know he will.”

I don’t respond to that.

In the six months since we’ve moved to Greece, I’ll admit that Nico has made some fairly decent progress on all of this shit. All of his investments in the bar so far have been approved, and he’s even to the point where he could, in theory, make an actual profit this year.

Considering that we had to renovate so much of this shithole to even get it to a place where we could entertain some fucking tourists, he better turn that shit around very, very quickly.

“You’re both doing great, my love,” she murmurs.

Yeah.

“I don’t feel like I am,” I say.

The girls shriek in the pool, and it startles Marisol’s mom awake. She yawns and waves at us, then heads down to sit next to the girls.

I nod at her. “Your mom seems happy.”

“She just likes the villa,” Marisol snorts.

I don’t think it’s the villa.

Greece is an adventure. Different than we thought it would be, but I don’t fucking hate it, that’s for sure.

Without my brothers and sister around all the time, I can finally fuckin’ breathe.

And, I can do something that I’ve never tried to do before.

I can be my fuckin’ self.

I’m not bad at it either.

Since coming to Greece, I’ve forcibly retired four unhelpful uncles, and supported two more with coming into the business. Nico, for all his flaws, has actually been fuckin’ helpful with that. He’s not part of the family business in that sense, but I appreciate that he hasn’t left me high and dry, exactly.

But he is ordering millions of dollars of French wine.

Having connections with Elio and Marco is, unfortunately, pretty fuckin’ helpful. I see Sal and Gia every now and then, but Marco…

He’s Marco.

He fuckin’ appears when he wants something, or when he has something to say. Then, he goes on his mysterious fuckin’ way, and I can’t exactly say that I’m in a place where we’re going to do game nights or shit like that.

But right now it’s… peaceful.

My attention returns to where Marisol is tucked against my side. She sighs, and I lean so I can whisper in her ear. “We won’t be able to fit together on this much longer.”

Marisol laughs, and my hand slides around over her belly.

“Someday, we’ll have a kid that isn’t a complete surprise,” she sighs.

I kiss her neck. “It’s kind of fun this way though, right?”

“You can say that when you’re the one hauling around your giant babies,” she murmurs.

I smile.

Yeah.

I should enjoy the peace while I can.

I know that I’m not going to be a dad like Elio. Or Sal. Or anyone, really. But all I need to do is be the dad that loves the girls.

That loves our new baby.

And if I swear a little too much? Fuck it.

I love them enough to make up for it.

My phone buzzes, throwing off the peace that I’m so happy with.

“What,” I bark into it.

Iason, one of the uncles that I’ve tasked with security, is on the line. “Boss. You’re gonna want to come to the front door.”

My eyes narrow. “Why?”

“Someone’s here. Says it’s for your wife?”

Fucking.

Hell.

Five minutes later, the man stands in front of both Marisol and me.

I have a gun in my lap. Iason stands behind him with a pistol cocked at his side.

But looking at the guy in front of us…

A fucking heavy breeze could knock him out.

“What do you want?” I snarl.

The man winces.

Marisol gives me a look. “How can we help you, Mr.…”

“Rodriguez. I’m your father’s attorney,” he says quietly.

Marisol freezes.

“Say that again?” I rasp.

Looking for all the world like he’s about to get fucking dental work done, the man takes off his glasses and cleans them on his shirt. “I’m Benicio Souza’s attorney.”

“My father had an attorney?” Marisol asks, kind of dazed.

He nods. “Of course. He was a businessman, wasn’t he?”

“Well.. Yeah.. and… a criminal,” Marisol blurts.

The lawyer shrugs. “I specialize in very nuanced clientele.”

“That’s one way to fuckin’ say it,’ I mutter.

The man gives me a look, then turns back to Marisol. “I’m here to read your father’s will.”

She blinks. “What?”

“Your father had a considerable estate. It’s been six months since he passed, which you have my condolences for, by the way. I know how hard it can be to lose a parent who is so devoted,” he murmurs.

Marisol and I exchange a look.

“Get to the fuckin’ point, asshole,” I snarl.

Mr. Rodriguez gives me a look that’s usually only reserved for vermin, but continues. “Like I said. Your father’s estate has passed the legal six-month period, which it needed to hold steady for during that time to settle any of his outstanding debts.”

Fuck.

My mind races. If he’s trying to keep us on the hook for all of Benicio’s shit, I’m sure there’s a way out of it. Unless Marisol, as his last surviving child, is the one who has to hold all of the debt…

“Debt?” Marisol says.

The lawyer tilts his head. “Well. Those have been resolved, you see, during the six-month period that the estate was held in escrow. So debt was a part of that process, yes.”

Marisol droops a little. “He had a bunch of those, didn’t he?”

The lawyer frowns. “I’m not certain what you mean, madam. But I assure you that your father’s estate was in a very healthy place. It’s why I’m here today.”

It takes me a second to process what the small, drab man says.

Somehow, he takes the silence as some kind of an indication of our acceptance. He bends down, pulling a sheaf of papers out of his briefcase.

Both Iason and I jump, and the lawyer sighs again when he straightens.

“Not every problem can be solved with a gun, you know,” he mutters, giving us a reproachful glance.

Fuck him.

The papers go on the desk, and he clears his throat. “You, Dino Drakos, and Iason Drakos, are willing to witness this will?”

I nod.

He sighs. “I, Benicio Souza, of sound mind and health, and of my own free will, do give the following assets upon my death…” he starts to read.

The words coming out of this guy’s mouth are impossible.

Im-fucking-possible.

I don’t know how long we listen for, but by the time he’s done, my jaw is on the floor and I’m not sure that anything is real anymore.

Rodriguez looks up. “Do you have any questions?”

Beside me, Marisol takes a deep, deep breath.

“Let me make sure I understand. My father was not broke at all. I thought that he needed to marry me off in order to make sure that he could pay people off. But you’re saying that wasn’t true?”

Rodriguez chuckles. “Well, while your father may have had certain cash flow constrictions, he certainly had assets that made up for it. I would say that his overall business had been in a more… reduced capacity, but his plan to train an heir is one that wasn’t poorly constructed at all.”

“And that plan to train an heir… it wasn’t about giving the organization to my potential husband?” Marisol says softly.

Rodriguez shakes his head. “I can’t see how that would make sense, given that he left the entire…business, as it were, to you.”

That’s the part that I can’t fuckin’ wrap my mind around.

If what the lawyer said is right, there was never any reason for him to find someone to take over for him. Benicio Souza wasn’t looking for a son.

He was doing something else.

But Marisol was his heir.

The whole time.

“When did he write this?” Marisol demands.

“Ten years ago. We revised it recently, as is pertinent, of course, but I assure you he chose you, and only you, as his heir,” Rodriguez looks at Marisol, a smile on his lips. “You, Ms. Souza, are the only inheritor of his estate.”

“Drakos,” she murmurs. “Marisol Drakos.”

“Ah. Well. It should be noted that the business in its entirety has been given to you, Mrs. Drakos. Your husband may provide input, and you may, of course, choose to make business decisions for the two of you that may be pertinent to the business, but the organization… it’s yours.”

Marisol blinks.

The lawyer leans down to pick up his papers, then stops. “Oh. Before I forget, your father did leave you with this,” he hands Marisol an envelope.

She takes it, tucking it in her hands.

Rodriguez bows. “Well. I’ll be off then. You’ll be contacted by all the necessary accountants as we go.”

With that, he leaves.

Stunned, I look at Marisol. “So. Um. What the fuck?”

She glances down at the letter. “I think I need a minute, love,” she whispers.

I want to be with her. But I know that she’s not going to be able to focus on me and the letter at the same time.

I squeeze her hand.

“I’ll be ready when you are.”

Marisol

My eyes go over the letter again.

And again.

And again.

I’ve already read it a million times. For hours, actually. I know that my mom got the girls inside and fed, and that Dino put them to bed.

But all I can do is sit at the side of the pool.

Looking at the letter.

It’s so dark that I can’t read it again.

I have no idea what to do with this information.

“I know I said I’d wait,” Dino says quietly from behind me. “But I’m worried you need to eat, baby.”

I lean back, smiling at him. “I’m okay. I promise.”

“You wanna talk?”

I pat the seat, and Dino comes to sit with me.

“What does it say?” he looks at the letter.

I don’t know how to explain this.

So I take a deep breath, my eyes drifting over the letter.

“He wasn’t broke, Dino. He wanted to find someone for me to fall in love with. It’s kind of fucked up, but he was worried about me. He wanted someone to marry me so that I’d be safe, and taken care of, so that I wouldn’t have to physically fight the world when I got to the business, but he wanted me to take everything over.”

“What about loved?” He asks.

I shrug. “I think he wanted that too, but I’m still not sure he knew what it meant. I mean, the love of his life was my mom, and she shot him in the chest with a shotgun, remember?”

“Yeah, promise me you’ll tell me before you shoot me, love,” Dino murmurs.

I laugh softly. “I don’t think it will get to that point.”

He sighs. “Are you okay?”

I don’t know.

“I just found out that my father was a monster who loved me in a really, really fucked up way. I’m the heir to a criminal organization worth millions. I’m also six months pregnant, so I’m pretty sure my brain is going to explode,” I murmur.

Dino kisses my neck. “That’s a lot.”

“It’s a lot!” I say.

“But you know what? If there’s anyone in the world who can handle all that shit, baby… it’s you,” he whispers.

I turn. “You think so?”

Dino smiles. “I know so.”

“Shoot,” I whisper.

Dino holds me close, I sigh into his arms.

This is a mess.

But as I lean back, my father’s letter in my hands, my world re-forming around me, I realize something.

I can do this.

I have everything I ever wanted. Dino. The girls. My mom. All safe. I have everything I dreamed of.

But now?

I look down at the letter, and smile.

Maybe there are some new dreams.

And with Dino, with my family?

Maybe it’s time to see what other joys the future holds for me.

I’ve never really thought that another life is possible for me.

However…

I’m ready for the adventure.