"He might be your father, but he's certainly not your papai." He took another drink and grimaced. Still tasted terrible. Marcelo set the glass back on the coffee table.

He sighed as he leaned back into the couch. Never had he met a woman who could make him feel so powerless. His father? Yes. Every other woman he had been with? No. He rubbed his eyes. "If he's got all the keys..." He switched tracks. "I'll fund whatever you need that he won't do."

It was only money. It wasn't like he could take it with him when he died.