The Don’s Real Daughter

Three days later would be my sixteenth birthday.

Every year on that day, Father would throw Bianca Vitale a grand birthday party.

All the Mafia families in Corholt received invitations, except me.

“Alessia, don’t take it personally. Maybe the butler forgot to give you one.”

Bianca stood at the basement staircase in a custom black velvet dress, her face full of apology.

I sat there in my worn-out T-shirt without even looking up.

It had already been eight years. By now, I was long used to her endless tricks.

“Bianca, why are you even explaining yourself to her?”

A pretty girl stepped out from behind her, her voice full of contempt. “She was just claiming she’s Don Vitale’s real daughter. How ridiculous. Don Vitale personally said that you’re the Vitale family’s only principessa.”

“Exactly. A servant’s daughter, freeloading in the estate. Don Vitale was already merciful enough not to throw her into Lake Macondo.”

“I heard she even stole your things. She’s got some nerve. Honestly, she should be punished by cleaning toilets.”

“Seriously, Bianca, you’re way too soft-hearted. If it were me, I would’ve kicked her out of the estate ages ago.”

Bianca waited until they were done talking before she slowly spoke again.

“Oh, we can’t make Alessia do work like that. Besides, that day happens to be her birthday too.”

Then she added meaningfully, “But, Alessia, I’m sorry. Papa already said that all five major Mafia families in Corholt will be attending that night, but you’re not allowed to appear at the party. After what happened back then...”

I threw the sharpened toothbrush handle in my hand at her feet.

“Get out.”

Eight years ago, Mamma went out alone late at night to pick up the birthday gift she had ordered for me.

On the way back, she was ambushed by a rival family, and both she and the car plunged into the Corholt River.

Father searched for three days and three nights before they finally recovered nothing but the empty gift box.

Every day after that, I cried for Mamma.

When Mamma was still alive, I was the only little principessa of the Vitale estate.

As long as I cried once, all of Corholt would shake.

One day, Father got so fed up with my crying that he grabbed me by the throat and lifted me up.

“You still have the nerve to cry?”

“If you hadn’t insisted on wanting that pendant as your birthday gift, Isabella would never have gone out in the middle of the night.

“Don’t let me see you again. Get down to the basement.”

That day, he personally shoved me into the cellar.

From then on, I went from being the principessa of the Vitale family to a dog beneath even the servants.

Whether I got food each day depended entirely on the cook’s mood.

Later, Father brought back a girl named Bianca from New Haven.

Her face resembled Mamma’s by eighty percent.

So he gave her Mamma’s master bedroom, her pearl necklace, and the ten-carat diamond ring to her.

Then he brought her to the family council meeting and announced before the five major Mafia families of Corholt, “She is the Vitale family’s only daughter.”

That day, when I heard the servants repeating those words outside the cellar, I finally understood that I had not only lost my mother but my father, too.