Page 95 of Surprise Twins for the Mafia Prince
“You could have told her. That you were alive. Saved her so much pain. We had to leave. She lost her business?—”
He waves a hand through the air, dismissive, like I’m just background noise. Like none of it matters.
And that’s the moment it clicks.
He’s a monster.
How did I never know?
But I was still a kid when he “died.”
Maybe I never knew him at all. Not really.
Not the man standing in front of me now—wearing my father’s face like an ill-fitting mask.
“I don’t want to hear about it. I left that life behind.”
I left that life behind.
No. He disappeared. Let us think he was dead. Let us grieve him. Let ussuffer.
And now he says it like it means nothing. Like we were nothing.
The devastation is so sharp it feels like there must be a hole in my chest. I even press a hand there, just to be sure. But the wound isn’t physical—just emotional. And I’m not sure it’s one I’ll ever recover from.
“Why am I here?” I ask, my voice so quiet I barely recognize it.
I feel small. Diminished. Utterly betrayed.
“The Bratva wants you.”
I blink. I didn’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t that.
“What are you talking about? What do you know about the Bratva?”
“I work for them now.”
I go still.
“The money I stole from Lorenzo didn’t last forever, and I needed to find honest work.” He chuckles like he’s made a clever joke. My stomach flips like I’m strapped into a ride I can’t get off.
“I only found out recently you were back in Vegas. Living with Dario Andretti, of all people. I saw a picture of you two coming out of his building. It was on Kozlov’s desk.”
He snickers at my confused look.
“You don’t even know who that is, do you? God, you’re so clueless.”
“Stop,” I say, my heart bruising itself against my ribs with each cruel syllable from his mouth. “Just stop being like this.”
“Honey, I’vealwaysbeen like this. Sure, I played house for a while. Your mother wanted it. And I didn’t mind her, at least until she hit forty. When those tits started to sag, I started looking for a way out. Faking my death might’ve been a little dramatic, but I’m not gonna lie,it was fun.”
I might actually throw up, I’m that disgusted.
He’s not the hero I mourned. Not the father I remembered.
He’s just a man. A small, cruel, selfish man.
“Kozlov’s the Pakhan, the head of the Bratva. The Russians know how to reward loyalty. I’m getting twenty grand to hand you over. They want to hit Dario where it hurts, and I guessyou’reit.”
