My Father, the Bloodthirsty Devil
I had two fathers.
One was Vincenzo, who was gentle and cultured. The other was Matteo, who was called "Il Diavolo Sanguinario", meaning the bloodthirsty devil, by everyone.
Both were men my grandfather, Don Rossi, had chosen for my mother, Sofia.
In my last life, my mother had chosen Vincenzo, thinking he was the man she could trust for the rest of her life. But after a woman called Carla came between them, he grew colder toward my mother and me. He took Carla's side and became convinced that my mother had drugged him on purpose and slept with other men.
In his eyes, I was a bastard whose father was unknown.
After my grandpa passed away, Carla framed my mother repeatedly. Vincenzo would let her get away with it every time. He had even forced my mother to apologize and locked us in the basement, to the point of starving to death in the end!
When I opened my eyes again, I was back at my fifth birthday party.
My grandpa was still gravely ill, and he was urging my mother to make a choice. "Sofia, whoever you choose will inherit everything in the Rossi family and protect you and Lia in my place."
Mom held me in her arms, hesitant to make a decision.
I pointed at the man everyone called the Diavolo Sanguinario. "Pick him! Only he can protect us!"