Prodigy by Theft
Everyone called my sister Alessia a prodigy.
I was the only one who knew she was a thief.
From the day I moved back into the brownstone, she started taking from me. Quietly. Carefully.
My designs. My sketches. My drafts.
Everything I created would appear under her name before I even had time to finish it.
The family stood behind her. Always.
My father, Salvatore Lucchese, head of the family, his word law itself, said he believed Alessia.
So I became the liar. The plagiarist. The disgrace.
They threw me out of the outfit's front shop. Blacklisted me from the industry. Erased my name.
Then one of her loyal admirers ran me down in the street.
That was the end.
Or it should have been.
When I opened my eyes again, it was the day before the national jewelry competition.
This time, I didn't draw a single line.
Let's see what my darling sister delivers… when the well has run dry.