MARRIED TO THE MAFIA.

Viola Smith's POV

The doctor looked at me with pity as I swallowed a heavy dose of painkillers.

Three days left to live. That was what they had told me.

I took the elevator up to the VIP floor. My dad, Charlie Smith, was slicing fruit for Jane. Meanwhile, my mom, Wendy Carter, was curled up beside her, watching a movie.

The moment I opened the door, the happy chatter stopped.

"Didn't you say you were on your deathbed this morning? What now? No one believed your lie, so you came back to pick on Jane again?

"Viola, from this moment on, your father and I aren't leaving Jane's side. You won't get another chance to hurt her," Mom said coldly, stepping in front of the bed to block me.

"We're the Smith family—nobles of Moonfall Pack. We have standards, and we're respected. But you? You've always been hot-tempered and jealous. You even faked being sick just to steal the Miracle Elixir meant for Jane!"

Dad stood beside Mom, just as defensive, like a hen guarding their chick.

And behind them, Jane stuck out her tongue at me with a smug little smile.

I smiled bitterly. I had heard this before. Every time, I would shout back. I would tell them I never touched Jane and try to prove how fake she really was.

But all I got in return was my parents' distrust and disgust.

More distance. Less love.

And now?

I was dying.

There was no point in explaining anything anymore.

"Anyway, it's good that you're here. Saves me the trouble of calling you. I have something to say," Dad said with a cold expression.

"I actually have something to say too," I said, trying to keep my tone light. "Jane's always wanted my fur business, right? Well, I've been thinking. Since we're family. I'll give it to her."

The cold expression on my parents' faces cracked momentarily. They exchanged glances then looked at me.

"You're serious?" Dad asked. "Is this some kind of trick? Are you asking for something in return?"

They couldn't believe it. Their first reaction was to think I was playing a trick on them, and I couldn't blame them.

Jane had been eyeing the fur company I had built from scratch for years. My parents had tried everything to convince me to hand it over.

Every talk ended in a fight, and every fight chipped away at whatever family love we had left.

But now?

I was dying.

What good was a business to a dead woman?

"You should've done this a long time ago," Dad said softly. His voice relaxed, and his eyes finally looked kind.

Mom stepped forward and gently held my hand. "You've grown up. You're finally acting sensible."

She smiled warmly. "I know you created the company, but Jane's been top of her class in finance and business at university. If anyone can take your company and turn it into the top fur brand in the country, it's her."

I nodded quietly and handed the signed transfer papers to Jane. As I stared at my signature on the bottom of the paper, I caught sight of Jane's expression.

Jane looked surprised at first, but when no one else was watching, she shot me a smug, victorious smile.

In this competition for family affection, I had lost.

"Here, drink some water. You must be thirsty."

Mom offered me a glass of water and gently brushed my hair back, her smile soft and sweet.

I nearly cried.

Why was it only when I gave something to Jane that Mom treated me like her daughter?

I couldn't help but wonder…

After I was gone, and when they finally saw who Jane really was—

Would they regret how cold they were to me?

-

When I returned home from the hospital, my son and mate were having dinner at the table.

"This cream of mushroom soup is amazing, Dad," Mark said with a grin.

"Your Aunt Jane loves it too. We'll bring her some after dinner."

They were laughing and chatting, looking like the perfect little family. But the second they saw me walk in, everything changed.

"Why are you home?"

Leo Ashford set down his spoon, staring at me in confusion. The spread of food on the table seemed to hurt my eyes.

Mark's gaze was distant, as if he were looking at a stranger.

That was when I realised that Leo knew how to cook, and he was good at it too.

I never knew that.

I used to be the one who cooked. The one who worked long hours to pay the bills. The one who held the house together.

But Leo always complained that my cooking was terrible.

Even Mark picked up on it. He started acting like I wasn't good enough to be his mother.

I gave everything to this family—my time, my energy, my whole life.

And in the end, not one of them respected me.

Back then, if they gave me the cold shoulder like this, I would've snapped. I would've shouted, "Why can't I come home? Why do you look at me like I don't belong here?"

But not anymore.

I didn't answer. I just started packing my things quietly.

When I didn't answer, Leo hesitated for a moment, then walked over to me.

"Viola, I wanted to talk to you about something."

His voice was softer this time, almost guilty.

"Your sister just started her treatment, and the Miracle Elixir is affecting her emotions. Makes her feel down. To keep her spirits up and to help with her recovery, your parents suggested that she and I go through the Marking Ceremony.

"They hope it'll make her feel better."