Familial Bond Short Stories & Independence Redemption Novels

In my previous life, I was adopted by a regular family. My younger sister, Regina Capasso, was taken in by a mafia Don, resulting in her becoming the principessa of Etalia's most powerful mafia family. Unexpectedly, Regina is cast out by the Don in her third year of getting adopted. She was forced to roam the streets as a homeless person till the day she died a terrible death. I, on the other hand, got into a prestigious university thanks to my good grades. Then, I furthered my studies with my adoptive older brother, Dario Bivona. With hard work, I eventually became the rising star of the AI industry who was sought out by all. With my adoptive parents' blessings, Dario and I ended up getting married and having our own children. My life was filled with peace and happiness. After we're given a second chance at the same life, Regina makes an entirely different decision. She rushes into Dario's arms and starts calling him by his name sweetly. Then, she takes my ex-parents' hands while gazing at me gloatingly. "You should have a taste of what it feels like to be a principessa, Livia. I seriously can't endure another second in that cruel, unforgiving family!" I look at Dario expectantly, hoping that he'll say something in my defense. But he shields Regina behind him while glaring at me icily. "Stay away from my sister." In the end, I slowly make my way toward the Rolls-Royce as Regina continues to look at me smugly.

Today was my younger son, Luke's, eighteenth birthday. My ex-husband, Major General Arthur Ashford, let himself into my house without knocking. He headed straight for the liquor cabinet like he still owned the place. He poured himself a glass of whiskey and looked at me with open contempt. "Allison, how have you enjoyed the last eight years? Stuck here in Briarwood because of a family court order. "All because I broke a couple of glasses and put my hands on you a few times, you just had to file for divorce." "And what did that get you? The judge stopped you from taking the kids out of the city and made sure I got regular visitation." He swirled the whiskey in his glass, spilling a little onto the carpet. It was the same cocky look he wore the night he came home drunk and beat me with his belt. "You really thought you could get away from me? As long as I say no, you'll spend the rest of your life under my control. "After Luke cuts his cake, I am filing for emergency guardianship. You will never take my son away from me." I looked at his smug face, gripping the edge of my sleeve, and said nothing. Then he lifted his glass, ready to start barking orders at everyone. My daughter, Kate, rose from her chair and set a thick stack of papers onto the table in front of him. "General Ashford, you should read these. "As of midnight, Luke is legally an adult. Every travel restriction the family court placed on Mom is gone. "And this is the filing receipt for the name change petition for the two of us, which I filed with the Supreme Court." Arthur gave the papers a dismissive glance. Then his smile disappeared. Printed across the top in bold letters were the words: Petitions of Kate Ashford and Luke Ashford to Change Their Surname to Pierce.

I was the eldest daughter of the Costa crime family until an engineered car crash killed me three years ago. When I opened my eyes again, to my shock, three years had passed. I had been reborn. For three years, hatred had blinded my three brothers, and they had welcomed our true enemy as family. They trusted Elizabeth, the woman who copied my every move, without question. They let her join forces with our enemies and gut the Costa Family from within. Fools. Since I was given a second life, I would set everything right. Rebuilding the Family would start with my youngest brother, Nick, the Wall Street prodigy.

Moving day. My parents passed out keys like candy—one for my brother, one for his wife, one for my younger brother's girlfriend, even one for Maria the housekeeper. Everyone except me. No explanation ever came. Not even as I dragged my suitcase out the front door, my family's laughter fading behind me. If a house had no place for me, it wasn't worth staying in. Three days later, at the airport, about to board my flight, I spotted them. Panic. All over their faces.

In my last life, it happened at the welcome party for my newborn brother. My aunt Vivian forced her way into the nursing room while my mother was changing and carried Noah out. By the time my mother came out in clean clothes, he was gone. Vivian argued that she had only taken him out to show him to the guests, and that my mother was the one who hadn't watched her own child. The security footage was destroyed on purpose. My mother couldn't find any new evidence, and in the end the investigation into his disappearance was closed. After that, my mother was never right again. She spent every day murmuring Noah's name, and six months later she was in a car accident. My father searched for three years. He finally found Noah's body in a small town in the middle of nowhere. Then I opened my eyes, and Vivian was walking toward the nursing room with a smile on her face. I threw myself at her, grabbed the fruit platter off the table beside me, and slammed it into her.

My mom passed away when I was twelve, leaving everything she had to me. My dad cried at her bedside, swearing he'd never remarry and that he'd take care of me no matter what. But six months later, my stepmother moved into the villa my mom had left me, with her daughter. She told me, "I'll love you like you're my own." It didn't take long before my room, my clothes, everything, was taken over by her daughter. I got shipped off to a boarding school and was only allowed home on weekends. That went on for four years. After my father had been away on business for months, her abuse only got worse. She even tried to make me take the fall for her daughter. When I refused, she locked me in the basement and left me there to die. I fought with everything I had, found the old phone my mom had left behind, and called my grandfather. On the other end of the line, his voice was pure fury: "No one messes with a granddaughter of the Moretti family!"