His Promise: The Mafia’s Babies
Chapter 332
Chapter 332
“It’s a good thing you came here early, Lucas!” Mario carried a serious expression on his face. “Today I want to show you something which is only for family…today I want to show you the real Castillos.”
The real Castillos? Did that mean he was finally going to tell me their deepest secrets? Did that mean I could eventually distance myself from this family and leave sooner than expected?
Good, they were…hideous.
Who was I kidding? I enjoyed being here.
“The real Castillos?” I questioned as Mario pulled out a big map and threw it on the table. “Yes, so listen very well.”
Just as expected, that old man showed me a map of where they keep all their products and gave me the names of all their men and business partners. Apparently, Mario trusted me so much that he didn’t know he was serving me his downfall.
All he could see was Carmela’s lost son.
“Why are you telling me all of this?”
“Because I want you to know that I accept you and trust you.”
He trusted mË.
“Aren’t you afraid I’ll report all of this?”
“I’m Mario Castillo.” The man held his head high.
“I’ve got nothing to be afraid of.” He spoke with open arms. I admired his confidence, but George Torres was not someone to underestimate, and neither was 1.
I was here to destroy him, and George was willing to do anything to advance Maddens and to get back his only daughter.
“Thank you for being honest with me.”
“Anything for my son.” Mario nodded. “My only son from the love of my life, Carmela.”
I felt a strange feeling in my heart. My only son from the love of my life, Carmela. For some reason, those words did something to me.
It made me think whether starting an alliance with George was really that necessary. I hated Mario for missing a father figure growing up. I hated him. I wanted to destroy him-but at the same time, I was ready to forgive him. Everything he said about his love for mom was true, and the maids confirmed it
As Elena suggested, I spoke to the maids who had nothing but love and praise for Mario Castillo and mom, who they had never forgotten about
Linda is the one you should worry about,’ The maids spoke shamelessly. She used every strength in her body to keep those two apart
tell Mario about it? Easy, accusing his wife
George to help him catch Marvin, but after getting to know my brother-I didn’t believe him to be the bad guy either. Despite his cold aura and his monstrous business ways, Marvin was a warm person who cared for
a new brother, a detective at that, but you seem decent-so you can visit any time you want.’ He spoke sincerely at lunch, giving me a backhanded compliment. I didn’t mind, though. The thought of having a brother was
to confront
to confront
was many years ago, so she would surely apologize.
no
the information I had just received or betray George would all depend on Linda’s
for the
out so
smiled. “Yes, son?”
trust
my life.” He spoke warmly. “I don’t know your plans,
hands. Would he know? No, of course, he
he was aware of my contact with George Torres, he would also know about
Alex Torres were DEA agents. It was different.
I’ll go for a walk-so if
I come with?”
washing over me. “You should continue whatever you
my way downstairs to find Linda as endless thoughts went through
to give me a sincere apology for all she’s done, I could put all of this behind me and protect my
the witch refused to apologize, I would give George the information he so desperately longed for-and I would do
me by throwing her arms around my neck before pulling me
embarrassment that we were so close in age.
she been drinking
know where I can find
bright smile. For someone
pointed to the backyard. “As always.”
before heading to the backyard. Linda was in her bikini, wearing her sunglasses while relaxing in a lounge
the life. One that was supposed
name. This woman wasn’t worthy of my respect,
her sunglasses while I sat down on the opposite side. “How have you been, sweetheart?” She asked.
to stay
chase, not wanting to waste any time. “You
showing me she did not care. “L-Lucas, I don’t know what you’re
“Cut the crap.
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