The Real Heiress' Mafia Survival Guide

I still hadn't received the test results when Silvia Capone, my adopted younger sister, suddenly broke down in tears.

"I'm so sorry, Rosina," she sobbed. "I truly mistook the bleach for honey. I was just trying to sweeten your juice. I didn't mean for this to happen."

It was such a poor excuse that even a young child would have seen through it. After all, bleach and honey were completely different, both in smell and appearance.

Yet, despite all of that, Mamma and Papa still chose to believe Silvia.

Mamma, feeling distressed, helped Silvia to her feet and affectionately wiped away her tears. "I know you have a good heart. This was just an accident. I'm sure you wouldn't do anything to hurt Rosina."

Papa sighed, turning to look at me. "It was a misunderstanding, Rosina. Let it go. Silvia has been frightened enough. You shouldn't conduct yourself like a street thug anymore since you've returned to the famiglia."

Mamma eyed my thick bulletproof vest with pure disdain. "You should also get rid of that junk you're wearing. You shouldn't be dressed like that in your own home. You're making it seem as if the Capone famiglia's security measures are inadequate."

I brushed off her request. Instead, I took out my phone and opened "How to Survive the Mafia".

I checked the box next to the poisoning entry and added a side note. "It seems like the enemy excels at deception. It is highly effective against biased parents."

I skipped lunch entirely because of the poisoning attempt, bringing the meal to a sudden end.

By dinner, I had learned my lesson. I brought out some canned food I had prepared beforehand, along with a professional-grade toxin scanner to check for any contaminants.

It was then that a striking young man in a bespoke suit walked through the door. He was Carlo Bollani, the successor to the Bollani famiglia and the fiance Papa had chosen for his Principessa.

Carlo was originally supposed to marry Silvia, but the engagement had been switched to me.

He walked through the door and caught sight of me with the canned food. He immediately sneered and said, "This is precisely what one would expect from a slum-dweller. Despite returning to the famiglia, you're still stuck with your taste for trash."

I paid no attention to his ridicule and continued eating my cold canned food.

Upon seeing this, Silvia placed a steak on my plate and said, "This is our private chef's specialty, Rosina. You should give it a try. It's not poisoned or anything."

I looked down at the steak, took out the professional-grade toxin scanner, and tested the food right in front of the entire famiglia.

Carlo suddenly slammed his hand on the table and rose to his feet. "Haven't you had enough, Rosina? How dare you behave in such a manner when Silvia was kind enough to share her steak with you! How could you test for poison at the dining table? Have you lost your mind?"

I calmly stowed my professional-grade toxin scanner and tossed the steak into the bin. "I nearly got taken out by that juice she gave me this afternoon, so I'm not going to trust anyone in this famiglia but me."

I opened another can after saying that and began to eat on my own.

Papa turned livid with rage as he leveled a finger at me. "You're being absolutely irrational, Rosina!"

I ignored their collective fury. I stood up and went back to my room once I finished the canned food. I immediately took a door jammer from my suitcase and wedged it into place.

It was a costly piece of equipment designed to withstand a chainsaw for a significant amount of time—just enough to give me a head start if I needed to run.

It happened just as I had anticipated.

At 2:00 am, someone suddenly tried to open my door from the outside. I quietly slipped out of bed and looked through the peephole. Silvia was standing right outside in her pajamas, holding a spare key, and trying to turn the lock.

Thankfully, the door jammer was doing its job.

Silvia gave the door a few hard shoves, but it wouldn't budge, as if it were welded shut. She seemed to catch on and snapped her head up toward the peephole.

I could practically feel her malice radiating through the door. I then noticed her raising her hand to her temple, mimicking a gun to her head, her face stripped of its daytime innocence.

I retreated under the covers, feeling a chill deep in my bones. I got on my phone, bought a few hidden pinhole cameras, and updated my "How to Survive the Mafia" log.

"It seems like the enemy is operational under the cover of darkness and is openly hostile. The threat level has escalated."