Chapter 2

Mirabella

I tried to lighten the mood with a joke. After all, Alexander was a pretty unusual middle name for a girl — unless, of course, it came from my father. My mother’s name was Mirael, and I was Mirabella. The rest must’ve come from him. That was always my guess.

But I stopped when I noticed he was no longer walking beside me. Turning back, I caught him staring at me with an unreadable expression, his eyes locked onto mine like he was trying to solve a complicated puzzle.

“I apologize, sir,”

I said quickly, trying to cover my awkwardness.

“Most people assume Alexander is my father’s name, so I just play along sometimes. I didn’t mean to be disrespectful.”

Alex Romano wasn’t someone I could afford to offend. One wrong move, and my job — and any future job — would be gone in seconds. People like him didn’t make threats; they made decisions.

But his next words threw me off.

“Do you know any Alexander Russo? Have you ever been told how much you resemble him?”

---

Alex Romano

The moment I laid eyes on her, my stomach twisted. She looked like someone I had known my entire life — no, like several people I’d grown up around. A perfect mirror of Alexander Russo, one of Italy’s most dangerous mafia leaders — and my father’s close ally.

I practically grew up in the Russo household; I knew every one of Alexander’s five sons like my own brothers. But her? She was a complete mystery. If you told me Dante Russo had somehow transformed into a woman overnight, I might’ve believed you for a second — that’s how uncanny the resemblance was.

And her name? Mirabella Alexander Russo. That couldn’t be a coincidence… right?

I waited outside the CEO’s office while she nervously apologized for her earlier joke. She clearly had no clue who Alexander Russo really was — otherwise, she wouldn’t have been so casual about it.

“Let’s continue,” I finally said.

Inside, the meeting went on, but I found it hard to concentrate. My eyes kept drifting back to her. She tried to stand still and professional, but I noticed the winces, the barely suppressed pain she couldn’t fully hide. Something was seriously wrong, but she was too used to masking it.

When the meeting ended and she walked me out, I paused before getting into my car. There was one more thing I had to know.

“What’s your mother’s name?”

She blinked, clearly confused by the question.

“Mirael Russo.”

I exhaled sharply and got into the car. Another Russo? How many were there? The driver pulled away, but I couldn’t shake the feeling growing in my gut.

“I want every piece of information you can find on her on my desk the moment I arrive,” I ordered my right-hand man. His confirmation was immediate. In my world — the Russian mafia — instinct was rarely wrong. And my instincts were screaming at me.

---

New York

The moment my plane landed, I went straight to the Russo family penthouse. It was Dante who owned this particular tower, and the guards knew me well enough not to question my sudden arrival.

As soon as I walked inside, the smell of alcohol hit me like a wave.

“Get out!”

Dante’s voice was rough, slurred, and full of irritation. He sat on the couch, a half-empty bottle clutched in his hand.

“Is that any way to greet an old friend? At least greet me as a guest.”

I smirked, pouring myself a drink without invitation. He growled at me from across the room.

“You call yourself a guest? You’re lucky I don’t shoot you.”

I chuckled. Dante was always like this — unpredictable, blunt, but we were both heirs to powerful families. That kept us tied closer than either of us cared to admit.

“I ran into someone in D.C. "

I began, cutting through the small talk. This wasn’t something I could sit on.

“Let me guess — Alex Romano has finally fallen for someone. Spare me the romance. I’ll puke all over your suit.”

I froze for a split second, realizing that, in a strange way, part of what he said wasn’t entirely wrong. I was drawn to her. She was beautiful, strong… but this wasn’t about attraction. This was about blood.

“She looks like you, Dante.”

His laughter abruptly stopped. He sat up straighter, staring at me as if I’d just slapped him.

“I haven’t gotten anyone pregnant, if that’s what you’re suggesting.”

I narrowed my eyes.

“Dante, she also resembles your father.”

His jaw clenched in offense.

“My father doesn’t have secret children either!”

“Listen,” I lowered my voice.

“I’m not saying you or your father did anything. But I strongly suspect she’s related to you — she might be your sister. She’s 17. You're understanding where I am going? How long has been aunt Isabella gone for? 17 years! ”

Dante’s expression darkened instantly.

“Don’t bring her name up in front of me,” he growled.

I let out a sigh.

“Fine. I won't bring her up! But you know where this can lead to if I am not wrong! I’m just saying — you should look into it.”

I stood and left, knowing he’d reach out once he sobered up. He might not believe me now, but I had planted the seed. But there is one more person who needs to know..

---

Mirabella

The pain was excruciating, but I forced myself to keep moving. Every step felt like knives driving into my ribs; I was fairly certain one or two were broken. My shoulder throbbed, likely dislocated, and my legs were covered in dark purple bruises that made walking nearly impossible. But none of it mattered.

I fell on the ground in extreme pain.. I groan left my mouth as I had no strength to get up anymore..

"Oh dear! Are you okay?! "

A lady, probably in her 40's neared me.. She looked wealthy and dressed lavishly..

"I- I... "

Before I could say something, I already blacked out..

_ _ _

I don't know how long it has been but when my eyes opened, it wasn't my room.. The white ceiling was unfamiliar..

Wait!

I sat up panicking and looked for my phone which was right beside me.. Shit!

I have been beenout for the whole night and whole day.. It's already past 8 now!

I removed the blanket over me and practically ran out after leaving some cash for the bills.. I'll be a dead meat today!

I rounded the last corner to our street and immediately froze at the sight of flashing blue and red lights. My chest tightened with panic. Not again. Peter?!?! Not like my mother. Not now.

Ignoring the agony, I sprinted toward the house. My mind raced with worst-case scenarios about Puto. I couldn’t lose him too — not after everything.

As I got closer, I saw the paramedics lifting a much larger body onto a stretcher. Blood soaked the white sheet. My twisted heart dared to hope it was one of my abusers.

Suddenly, I felt small arms wrap around my waist. Looking down, I saw Puto — alive and unharmed. Relief flooded through me as I crouched and held him close.

“What happened?” I asked gently.

His gaze fell to the ground. “They started fighting. Dad stabbed her… and then ran.”

The shock barely registered. That kind of violence was uncharacteristic — even for them. They rarely turned on each other. Peter's narrative felt suspicious..The way he couldn't look up at me, it was telling some something was up for sure..But for once, I couldn’t find it in myself to feel sorrow. She was gone. And he had fled.

One of the officers approached hesitantly. “Are you Mirabella Alexander Russo?”

I nodded.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, but your stepmother didn’t survive. Your stepfather fled the scene.”

I didn’t cry. I didn’t flinch. A strange calm settled over me. They were gone. Finally. But terror crept in quickly after — I wasn’t eighteen yet. Puto was only seven. My mother’s trust was still locked. We were in limbo.

No family. No guardians. No backup. I’d heard horror stories about foster care in this state. I couldn’t let them separate us.

“For now, we’ll take you and your brother to the station,” the officer continued gently. “We’ll collect your blood samples and see if we can locate any biological relatives.”

It felt like being led into an unknown storm.

“May I at least pack our things first?” I asked.

He nodded, and I quickly gathered what little we had — Puto’s medication, a few clothes, and my mother’s pink dolphin plush, which I clutched like a lifeline.

At the station, Puto fell asleep beside me while the officers worked in the background. I leaned my head back, exhaustion pulling me into unconsciousness.

Hours later, I jolted awake as an officer shook me gently. My first instinct was fear, but I relaxed when I saw it wasn’t Damon.

“I have good news,” the officer said with a small smile. “We’ve found family who’s agreed to take you both in.”

I stared at him, confused. Family? I didn’t even know any relatives existed.

“Who?”

“Your father and brothers. They’ll be arriving from New York soon to pick you up.”