He Gave Me His Mistress’s Twins, So I Raised My Own Heirs in Secret

The same soldiers who'd been all smiles an hour earlier, hauling crates of wine into the estate for the celebration, turned on him in a single breath.

"You lay a finger on me and you'll regret it," my father warned, his voice sharp as a drawn blade.

One of them scoffed. "Why wouldn't we? Who do you think you are?"

They hesitated all the same, cowed by the old fire still burning in the eyes of a man who had once sat at the head of the Commission.

Then Gina, drunk on her own villainy, crossed the marble floor and slapped my father hard across the face.

He froze.

This was a man who had ruled the table of bosses in this city. Governors had kissed his ring. Senators had waited in his parlor. Now he'd been struck by the whore who'd stolen his blood and his name.

He was about to erupt, but I caught his arm and drew him back before the whole room drowned in blood.

"This is too much," someone whispered. "They put hands on the old Don himself?"

"How could they disgrace him like this? He's a man of honor. He built churches. He carried half the families in this neighborhood through the lean years. How dare they?"

"Adriana threw away everything for that gutter rat. Doesn't she know a woman can't undo that? A man can sire heirs into his seventies. A woman…?"

"If my daughter had done this," another muttered, "I'd have taught her a lesson she'd feel for a month."

"Vince and Gina. Filth, the both of them. And now they sit on the oldest fortune in the city?"

The room seethed. Fingers pointed. Voices climbed. Some cursed Vince's name. Some pitied me. But Vince stood untouched by any of it.

"Are we finished?" he asked the room.

Everyone went silent.

He turned back to me. "So, Adriana? Are you signing, or not? Hurry. We don't have all night to wait on you."

"Fine," I hissed. "I'll sign it."

I couldn't hold back a chuckle when I read the terms of the pact. It was almost insulting in its simplicity. It left me with a few thousand in laundered cash, barely enough to keep a roof over my head for a season. A clean exit. No holdings. No claim. Nothing.

I picked up the pen and signed my name in a few quick, bloodless strokes.

Vince snatched the papers and skimmed them, then let out a mocking laugh, straightening his too-heavy watch on his wrist as though checking that his stolen life still ran on time. "Good. Wonderful. Adriana, you're the finest benefactor a man could ask for. Thank you. Truly. For handing me a fortune five generations deep. My family will live off your generosity for generations more."

Gina, glowing with triumph, raised her glass and drained the champagne. "Honestly, Adriana, you're like my fairy godmother. I ought to toast you every year."

I smiled.

Good. Let's see how long that smile lasts.

Then it happened.

My father, still watching them bask in their victory, still watching the Family that had stood for a hundred years pass into the hands of a nobody from the sticks, coughed violently. His hand rose flat against his chest, and the long breath he let out came shredded and wet.

And then, he collapsed, blood on his lips.

"Dad!" I screamed, dropping to my knees beside him.

"Lorenzo, no. Don!" my mother cried, sinking down at his other side.

The relatives surged in around us. Someone tilted his head back. Someone tried to get water past his lips. Another pressed hard at the pulse in his wrist.

Panic tore through the room like gunfire.

I looked at him. The gray in his face. The tremor in his hands. His heart had always been the frailest thing about him. He'd nearly gone the day I took the forged decree of barrenness for Vince's sake, the day the Family was told the true bloodline would end with me. This might finish him for good.

Vince stood watching the chaos without so much as a blink. Then his eyes caught on a man moving in through the crowd to help. Tall. A sharply cut navy suit.

"Lorenzo Bellini?" Vince's eyes narrowed. "What the hell are you doing here? Don't tell me you've developed a taste for Adriana. She's hardly the flavor of the month anymore."

Lorenzo and Vince had come up from the same gutter. Same slum. Same empty pockets. Vince used to run his mouth at him back then, called him a hayseed, a nothing, a boy who'd never be made.

Lorenzo only offered a cool, polite smile. He slowly buttoned his suit jacket, a single deliberate motion, and did not bother to look at Vince at all.

My father came around, groaning faintly. Hands lifted him and carried him off to a quiet room to rest.

"Where are the twins?" someone asked.

"Collecting their acceptance letters, I think."

Just then the great doors of the estate swung open, and two teenagers in school uniforms walked in.

Evelyn and Clara.

They'd filled out over the years, but they still wore the same bright, familiar smiles. Only now, when their eyes found me, those smiles curdled. They turned their backs on me and ran to Vince.

"Dad!" Evelyn beamed, throwing her arms around him. "Aunt Gina! We did it! We both got in!"

Vince grinned, proud. "I knew you would. I'm so proud of you."

He held each of them in turn, then gently guided them into their seats and said, low and warm, "Kids. From now on… don't call Gina 'Aunt' anymore. Call her 'Mom.'"

The twins' faces lit up as though he'd handed them the whole world. They swung toward Gina with enormous smiles and cried out in the same breath.

"Mom!"

"Mom!"

My heart dropped.

"Mom," I echoed under my breath. Hearing the children I'd raised, my children, call another woman that word landed like a wrecking ball straight through the ribs.

I was the one who'd packed their lunches every morning. I was the one who'd stayed awake through every fever season, who'd held their hands through every heartbreak, who'd sat through every meeting with their teachers, who'd kissed their scraped knees and outlasted every tantrum.

Gina gave a dazzling smile, smoothing their hair, cupping their cheeks. She tucked a loose strand behind her own ear and let her smile settle half a beat too late. "My children. Now I won't have to skulk around like some criminal just to catch a look at you."

My mother could bear no more. Her voice cracked as she shouted, "Evelyn! Clara! Your mother is standing right here!"

She thrust a finger toward me, her eyes blazing with disbelief.

"She gave up eighteen years of her life to raise you. And now you call the woman who destroyed this Family 'Mom'? Where is your sense?"