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Chapter 3

Author: Luna D
That night, the party at the Bellini house still hadn't started.

Rosa Bellini slipped a diamond necklace into her handbag and glanced at the long table.

Bianca was sitting next to Marco. The seat that used to be Elena's held a vase of flowers.

"Where's she sitting?" asked Bruno, the butler.

"She comes up for the toast. After that, she can sit wherever you put her." Vittorio Bellini adjusted his cufflinks. "She needs to learn that not everything revolves around her."

Many of tonight's guests depended on the Bellini family's business for a living. Vittorio wanted them to see for themselves: his lost daughter was back, and his other daughter knew how to do as she was told.

Marco handed his car keys to the driver.

"Go to the east docks. Take the dress. If she says her legs hurt, help her to the car."

Bianca tugged at his sleeve. "Don't scare her. If she's willing to come back, I won't give her a hard time."

Rosa smiled.

"Our younger girl is the sensible one."

Rosa remembered that Elena had been a good girl when she was little. If she tore her dress, she'd hide on the stairs and cry, afraid her mother would be angry. But as she got older, she'd grown less and less willing to back down.

Three years earlier, they'd come up with a plan to break her of that.

The DNA report had never said Elena wasn't theirs. Vittorio had said Bianca was too wary of her older sister. Better to let Elena suffer a little, then bring her back. That way, both girls would learn their places.

Rosa had agreed.

At the time, she'd even thought it was better than having two daughters fight for the rest of their lives.

"Is the account ready for the refund?" she asked.

Vittorio nodded. "We'll transfer the money after she apologizes. I don't want her thinking a tantrum gets results."

The clock on the wall showed half past seven.

No one had come through the front door yet.

...

I sat with Teresa at a table by the diner's window.

Teresa ladled out a bowl of stew for me while Nico parked my newly fixed bike outside.

"The back wheel will hold for a while. Replace it when you have the money. No rush."

I pushed the bowl back a little. "I can just have the staff meal tonight."

"This is the staff meal." Teresa sat down. "The only difference is, tonight we're eating it together."

There were footsteps on the stairs.

Anna Russo came down slowly, one hand on the railing and a small bag of oranges in the other.

She was the widow of the man who'd once saved my father's life. She was staying with relatives nearby, and her son Paolo worked as a bodyguard for my family.

My mother used to send me to visit her. Even after I was kicked out, I'd still dropped by now and then.

When I couldn't afford flowers, I'd bring her a library book.

"I heard you moved in." She set the oranges beside my hand. "I came to see you."

I sat up straighter without thinking.

"I didn't ask Paolo to—"

"I'm not here to deliver a message from your father." She took the empty chair and picked up a fork. "Let's eat. I'll curse them out once I'm full."

I blinked, then ducked my head and laughed a little.

I moved my bowl to make room for Anna.

No one told me to wait until I was called up. No one told me who to give my chair to.

Teresa passed me the bread basket.

I took a slice.

"Take another," she said. "You haven't eaten enough today."

I looked at the basket, and suddenly my eyes stung.

This time, I really did take another slice.
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