Claimed For The De Carrillo Twins

When she’d been with Rio, Cruz had seen countless pictures of them at parties and premieres, so she had to be approaching the end of her boredom threshold.

He thought again of her assertion that she loved the boys... He couldn’t countenance for a second that she loved these children who weren’t even her own flesh and blood.

A memory of his own mother came back with startling clarity—he’d been a young teenager and he’d confronted her one day, incensed on her behalf that his father had been photographed in the papers with his latest mistress.

She’d just looked at him and said witheringly, ‘The only mistake he made, Cruz, was getting caught. This is how our world works.’ She’d laughed then—nastily. ‘Dios mio, please tell me you’re not so naive as to believe we married because we actually had feelings for one another?’

He’d looked at his mother in shock. No, he’d never laboured under the misapprehension that any such thing as affection existed between his parents, but he’d realised in that moment that some tiny part of him that hadn’t been obliterated after years of only the most perfunctory parenting had still harboured a kernel of hope that something meaningful existed... Shame had engulfed him for being so naive.

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