All Chapters of The Mafia Princess Mistaken for a Cleaner: Chapter 1 - Chapter 9

9 Chapters

Chapter 1

Not even three seconds later, my phone blew up."Who touched the princess?""A name. Now.""Who the fuck put their hands on Aria?""Boss, we're rolling."The family channel lit up like a Christmas tree. Twenty messages flew by, each one a death threat.My father, Vincenzo, replied at the top of the chat: "I don't have a new pet. Where are you? What happened?"I was about to type "The living room" when a sharp pain shot through my shoulder.The woman shoved me hard. I stumbled back."Playing maid for the day?" she sneered. "All dressed up with nowhere to go? I gave you an order."She snatched my encrypted phone right out of my hand. Her long nails almost scratched the screen.I almost laughed, out of pure rage.Seriously. In my entire life, nobody had ever dared to touch my things. Nobody but my father, Don Vincenzo."Give it back." My voice dropped, low and dangerous. Pure Moretti ice.My father taught me young. True power never needs to be shown.So I never acted like I was better tha

Chapter 2

Brenda stared at me for a second. Then she exploded into a piercing, shrill laugh."Hahahaha!" She was laughing so hard she could barely breathe, tears streaming from her eyes. "Aria Moretti? You?"She pointed at me, her laughter growing wilder."If you're Aria Moretti, then I'm the First Lady!"I watched her, my face a blank mask."Listen, you little liar," she wiped a tear from her eye, her voice turning vicious. "The real Miss Moretti is studying at some fancy art school in Europe. Living like a princess. She would never look like you. Covered in mud, like you just came from a construction site.""You're mistaken.""I'm mistaken?" she scoffed. "I've worked in this house for three months. I know everyone. The real daughter is elegant, refined. She wears designer clothes, not that cheap crap you have on."I looked down at my jeans and t-shirt. They were plain, but that meant nothing."Call my father. You'll see.""Your father?" Her laugh was even harsher. "You little bitch, there's a

Chapter 3

The cold water blasted my face. The pressure was too strong. I couldn't breathe.Water filled my nose, my mouth, my lungs. The pain of drowning was worse than any beating. My lungs were on fire. My chest felt like it would explode.My vision blurred. My mind was slipping into darkness.Just as I thought I was going to die, she yanked my head back up.Cough, cough, cough! I gasped, my lungs desperately trying to expel the water. Blood and water streamed from my nose and mouth, dripping onto the gilded sink."Feel better? Cleared your head?" Brenda looked down on me, her eyes filled with sadistic pleasure.I used my arms to push myself up from the sink, shaking all over."You. Will. Pay. For. This." I said, each word a rasping promise of death. "I swear, you'll pay a thousand times over."She froze for a second. Then she laughed, crazier than before."Pay? You? A trespassing lunatic?"She kicked me in the small of my back. I slammed into the wall. Pain shot through me."Look what you did

Chapter 4

The cleaner’s head snapped back and forth between Brenda and me. She was completely lost."What... what's going on here?" she stammered, pointing at me.Brenda froze. Then her panic vanished. Her face hardened, and her voice dripped with acid."What are you looking at? Never seen family business before? Just disciplining a distant cousin who doesn't know her place."She pointed a finger at me, the cheap nail polish chipping. Her eyes were pure warning."The Boss treats me well. He hired two of you, but this one's new. Lazy, and she's got sticky fingers. I'm teaching her the rules."She glared at the cleaner, trying to stare her down."And you. You have a job to do, so do it. You see this? This is what happens when you slack off. Leave one smudge, and you won't walk out of here in one piece."The cleaner flinched."Ma'am, this doesn't feel right. If she's really your family...""I said stay out of it!" Brenda's voice went shrill. "Get to work!"The bathroom door slammed shut.The cleane

Chapter 5

My father's eyes swept from my face, down my nearly naked body, and settled on my swollen cheek and the marks on my arms.His eyes went from fire to ice.Without a word, Marco, his bodyguard, stepped forward. A single, brutal punch connected with Brenda's temple.CRACK.The sound of bone was sickeningly loud.Brenda’s body flew sideways, slamming into the tiled wall before she crumpled to the floor.Blood trickled from her ear."Ahhh—" she shrieked, clutching her head. "My eardrum... I can't hear anything!"I watched without a shred of pity.She deserved it."Dad..." My voice was a whisper.My strength gave out.He was my protector. My shield. My entire world.The second I saw him, I wanted to cry, but the tears wouldn't come. Maybe they had frozen inside me.Vincenzo slipped off his cashmere coat. It was custom-made, soft as a cloud.He wrapped it gently around me, just like he used to when I was a little girl with a fever."My little princess..." His voice trembled, and his eyes burn

Chapter 6

My grandfather Giovanni’s hands, usually steady as stone, trembled as he unwrapped the cashmere scarf from his own neck and gently placed it around mine.It was his favorite, handmade in Milan."My little angel..." the old man's voice broke. "Nonno's so sorry."The scarf was warm, smelling of his faint cigars and cologne."Nonno..." I whispered."Shh, don't talk," he said, stroking my hair with his old, wrinkled hand. "It's all going to be okay."Then he turned, his cane cracking against the marble floor."Leo!" The old man's voice was pure authority. "Find the son of a bitch who brought this animal into my house.""Everyone involved. I don't want a single one of them missed.""Yes, Mr. Giovanni." Leo immediately took out his phone and started making calls.Brenda heard this and pure terror took over.She struggled to stand, but the pain in her gut was too much."No... please... I can explain..."She looked around the room, at all the men in black suits.Every one of them had eyes like

Chapter 7

I awoke to the soft glow of sunlight filtering through the penthouse windows. The constant beeping of machines was gone. My body, though still sore, felt my own again. The shivering had stopped.My father sat in a leather armchair by my bed, his tailored suit wrinkled. He hadn't slept. The moment my eyes opened, he was by my side, his hand gently touching my forehead."You're awake," he said, relief washing over his tired features. "How do you feel, my little artist?""Better," I whispered, my voice still hoarse. "Much better."He helped me sit up, fluffing the pillows behind me. Then, he handed me a sleek, black tablet. His eyes, however, held no warmth. They were filled with the cold, satisfying light of vengeance."You just rest and get better," he said, his voice a low, chilling promise. "And now, we watch what happens to the people who hurt you."I took the tablet. The first thing on the screen was a security video.It was from a hidden camera in our living room.The quality w

Chapter 8

"Where is she now?" I asked.My father tapped another folder on the tablet, bringing up a live feed.The image was of a dark basement. Concrete walls, an iron door, just a cot and a toilet.Brenda was curled in a corner, her hair a mess, her clothes torn.I noticed a huge screen mounted on the basement wall."What's that?""A 24/7 'educational' program," my father said. His smile was a razor's edge. "It's all about her son, Marcus."My father hit play.The screen in the basement lit up with a video: Marcus, being cornered by three men in black suits outside his apartment."Marcus Thompson?" one of them asked in a thick Russian accent."Y-yes," Marcus stammered."You owe our boss eight million dollars.""What? I don't know what you're talking about..."A fist smashed into Marcus's face. Blood spurted from his nose."Don't play stupid. You signed the papers.""I never borrowed any money! This is a mistake..."Another punch, this one to the gut. Marcus doubled over in pain."The boss says

Chapter 9

A week later, on the eve of Thanksgiving.I was finally allowed out of my room.The doctors confirmed I was fully recovered. The trauma was healing, cushioned by the fierce protection of my family.I opened my bedroom door to the familiar scent of white pine.The entire apartment was spotless, reborn.The Persian rugs were new. Every piece of furniture had been polished. Even the air felt cleaner."Miss Aria!"A familiar voice, thick with a Sicilian accent, came from the kitchen.Sofia!Our old housekeeper, the sweet woman who had looked after me since I was a child.She bustled out of the kitchen, apron on, her hair gray, her eyes wet with tears."My little angel..." She opened her arms.I ran into her hug, the tears finally coming."Sofia...""I'm so sorry, so sorry..." She held me tight, her voice choked with emotion. "It was all my fault. If I hadn't gone back to Sicily, if I was here...""It's not your fault," I whispered. "How is your mother?""She's at peace now," Sofia said, wi

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