After I Died, My Sister Destroyed Our Mafia Family

The most feared Moretti had never been my father, Don Salvatore Moretti. It was my twin sister, Alessandra. She had been dead for four years.

Ten years ago, the rival De Santo family seized Pier Seven at the San Marro docks. Forty armed men surrounded the warehouse. My father was ready to surrender. Alessandra was 22. She took 12 men inside. First, she blew up their arsenal. Then she carried their hostage, an old bookkeeper, out of a burning warehouse. Finally, she forced the Five Families' representatives into a smoke-filled office and settled the matter herself. When she walked out, Pier Seven was ours again.

She didn't celebrate. At my suggestion, she reinforced the fire doors along the docks and raised the death benefits for dockworkers' families.

Outsiders remembered a cold, terrifying woman stalking the docks with a gun. That wasn't the Alessandra I knew. I remembered her coming home late, slipping off her bloodstained coat, closing the loose shutter by my window, and kissing my cheek good night.

We looked exactly alike. Even my father sometimes called us by the wrong names. I had a crescent-shaped burn scar behind my ear. Alessandra knew when I clenched my left hand whenever I got nervous. She even remembered that I hated olives with breakfast. In public, no one dared disrespect me when she was around. In private, she would sigh. I was her angel. Her favorite. Too soft for my own good. If she could have kept me beside her every hour of the day, she would have. She couldn't stand the thought of anyone hurting me.

"Anything my Lily doesn't like should disappear. Want me to put them in the ground for you?"

Not long after, Luca ambushed the De Santo heir without permission. He nearly started a war between the Five Families. Alessandra took the blame. In exchange for the Black Harbor Truce, she agreed to spend ten years isolated on Saint Brigid Island.

The night before she left, she called everyone together and fired one shot into the sky.

"This time, I'll take the fall for Luca," she told everyone. "From now on, if anyone lays a finger on Liliana, I'll leave that island early and collect the debt in person."

Six years later, Saint Brigid Island caught fire. My father came back with a single scorched silver watch. He said Alessandra was dead.

That was when my family showed me what they really were. They took everything from me, piece by piece.

First, my seat at family meetings. Then, the charity fund I ran. Finally, my two daughters.

Eight months ago, the car carrying my daughters, Sofia Bellini and Louise Bellini, plunged into the San Marro River. Everyone called it an accident. I didn't believe them.

This morning, I recovered the car's full location history from a cold backup on the port server. The car had stopped on the tidal ramp for nineteen minutes before entering the river. Gianna's phone left the area six minutes before the car hit the water.

I minimized the screenshot, gripped my phone, and pushed open the dining room doors.

The long table was set for ten. Not one seat was for me. A maid stood on a stepladder, removing my portrait from the wall. Gianna's was going up in its place. Gianna was my father's daughter by another woman. She had been living with the Morettis for less than a year, yet she had already moved into Alessandra's old suite.

My father sat at the head of the table. He didn't even look at me.

"Sit."

The butler hurried to add a chair at the far end of the table, nearest the door. It was crammed into the corner like they wanted me gone before I'd even sat down.

Luca pushed a document across the table.

"Sign it. Starting tomorrow, the charity fund, the seat reserved for a woman on the family council, and the right to use the east-wing suite belong to Gianna."

I didn't touch the pen.

"Tomorrow is my children's memorial day, isn't it?"

Gianna wore a white gown, the color my daughters had loved best. She slowly stirred her coffee.

"That's exactly why Dad scheduled my induction ceremony for tomorrow." She smiled. "This family needs a new beginning."

"My children just died, and you're already welcoming the woman connected to their deaths into this family?"

Gianna's smile vanished.

Luca slammed his cup onto the table. "Liliana, stop acting insane! Alessandra sacrificed herself for this family, and all you can think about is yourself and your children. You aren't half the woman she was!"

I looked at my father. "If Alessandra were alive, would any of you dare give Gianna her rooms?"

The dining room went silent.

Enzo Marino stood behind my father. His fingers moved away from his holster. Luca stiffened. Vincent slowly raised his head. Even Gianna gripped her spoon tighter.

One name. That was all it took to scare them.

My father recovered first.

"The dead won't come back. Sign."

Then he reminded everyone about the Black Harbor Trust. Its final transfer would happen in fifteen days. Before then, Gianna needed a seat on the family council, and every disputed record had to disappear. I put my phone on the table and opened the location screenshot.

"The car sat on the tidal ramp for nineteen minutes. Gianna's phone was there. Six minutes after she left, my children died! Can anyone explain that to me?"

My husband, Vincent, sat to my right. He ran all Moretti operations. His pupils tightened the moment he saw the screen. He saw the problem with the timeline.

But when my father shot him a warning look, Vincent reached over and turned the phone facedown.

"A screenshot from an unknown source doesn't prove anything."

I stared at him. "You know that record is real."

"What I know is that you haven't been in your right mind since the girls died eight months ago." He lowered his voice. "Don't treat everyone in this house like a murderer."

My father raised a hand. Enzo stepped forward and took my phone.

"As of now, cut off her access to medical care, communications, and the fund. Liliana doesn't leave her quarters until tomorrow's ceremony is over."

Alessandra, they did this to me because they were sure you were dead.