Page 71 of The Godfather’s Christmas Twins

“I’ll take care of it.”

I leave the building, sucking in the cool air to rid the stench of Benny. I climb into my car, unable to stop thinking about five pounds. I pull out my phone and search for information on twin pregnancies. The information suggests most twins are born a little early, and the average weight is five-point-five pounds. My gut clenches. Surely, Benny is just talking shit.

I start running numbers. I was with Gia the summer she turned eighteen. Shortly after, Gino sent me to Las Vegas. I wasn’t even allowed to attend her wedding to Aldo, which took place two months later. If Aldo’s the father, those kids were born about six months after they were married. I search for average twin birth weight at six months. Two pounds. At eight months, the babies are five pounds. Eight months puts their conception around the time I was with Gia.

Oh, fuck. What if Dario and Daniella are mine? Then I’m a father. I feel like I’ve been hit in the chest with a two-by-four. I can’t breathe.

I give my head a shake. This is ridiculous. I toss my phone in the passenger seat, chastising myself for letting Benny send me down a rabbit hole of nothing. I return to my office. I need to let Nic know that I’ve found Benny and his accusation of a traitor in the family. I won’t tell him about the bullshit of Aldo not being the twins’ father.

I drive back to my office where I text Nic, telling him I have Benny and to call when he can. I should go home, but I can’t. I’m not sure if it’s because the house will be too quiet since it’s the middle of the night or because I might see Gia. This new twist is fucking with me. Surely, she’d have told me if she was pregnant. Right?

I lie on the couch in my office to get a little rest before I have to be back at it again, working to get more information from Benny. I hope that after a few hours locked up, he’ll see reason and tell me more about what he’s been hearing.

When I wake, it’s nearly eight in the morning. I’ve slept too long. Crazy dreams of Gia and the kids… of their being mine… have haunted me.

I scrape my hand over my face knowing I need to go home. I need a shower and… fuck, I need to talk to Gia.

I pull into my driveway, killing the engine but remaining in the car. Through the window, I can see lights still on in the kitchen. I wonder if she and the kids are making breakfast. It’s a little late for that. At nine, they’re normally having school now. But it’s the day after Thanksgiving, so maybe they’re taking a day off.

I force myself out of the car. Each step toward my front door feels like walking through cement. I enter the house forcing a smile on my face.

“Uncle Max!” The kids come running in. But this time, it’s different. I study them. Do they look like me? Did I abandon them? Or did Gia abandon me?

“Hey. How was Thanksgiving?” I kneel down so I can look them in the eyes.

“Good. We ate with everyone.”

“Why weren’t you here?” Daniella’s face drops, and I feel like shit for not being here.

“I’m sorry. I wanted to be, but I had important work.”

“More important than us?” Dario asks.

No. That’s the first thought that comes to my mind. But if the kids and Gia are more important, why wasn’t I here?Because I have a duty to protect them and that’s important too, I remind myself.

Gia appears, and I know without a doubt that I’ve hurt her. She has a wan smile, but her eyes are filled with wariness and a growing distance.

“Can I talk to you in my office?” I ask her.

“Of course.” She’s so civil. But I guess I am too.

“How about we go outside?” Maria says to the kids.

“Can you watch me swing?” Dario asks me.

“Maybe later. I have a few things to talk to your mom about.”

“’Kay.” The kids run off, and I watch them for a moment before heading down the hall to my office.

Gia enters behind me. I lean against my desk and study her, searching for signs of the secrets she might be keeping. Am I being ridiculous or could Benny’s accusation be true?

"We need to talk." I gesture to the chair across from my desk. "About the twins."

She stiffens slightly but takes the seat. The silence stretches between us because I can’t figure out how to ask this. Will I offend her by asking if I’m wrong? Will I look like an idiot for considering Benny’s accusation?

"I had an interesting conversation with Benny." I cross my arms. "He made some… accusations about their parentage."

Her fingers twist in her lap, but she maintains eye contact. "What kind of accusations?"