The Don’s Real Daughter
In all the eight years after Mamma died, Father hated me.
He hated me for causing Mamma’s death, and he hated me even more because I didn’t resemble her at all.
So he adopted a girl who looked eighty percent like Mamma and raised her as the principessa of the Vitale family.
He brought her to banquets hosted by the five Mafia families of Corholt and seated her beside him at negotiation tables.
In front of the entire family, he publicly declared that his adopted daughter, Bianca Vitale, was his only heir.
Meanwhile, I wore a servant’s apron and lived in a cellar beneath the estate.
He allowed Bianca to break my fingers, slash my face, and lock me inside the morgue freezer.
“This is what you deserve.”
I believed it, too.
Until my sixteenth birthday, when Mamma came back.