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A Violent Kind of Grace

After her father's death leaves the Rossi family in ruin, Elvira discovers she is actually the long-lost heiress of the wealthy LaRosa clan. To fund her people, she infiltrates her biological family, hiding her ruthless upbringing behind a mask of grace. However, when challenged by a fake heiress and a patronizing fiancé, Elvira abandons diplomacy. Using raw strength and mafia tactics, she proves that violence is the only language her new enemies truly understand.
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Chapter 3

Alice's smile finally crumbled, and she fell silent.

The air was thick with tension.

Just then, Edward's deep voice cut through, as he turned to head for the main house.

"Alright. You're back, and that's what matters. Let's head inside."

It carried a strong sense of protectiveness.

I was not about to make a big deal out of the earlier incident, just a gentle nudge to remind them I was there.

I left the group behind and caught up with the others.

The foyer of the mansion was cavernous, which could easily fit two cars, and had a crystal chandelier that shone blindingly bright.

A servant nodded me toward a seat, and I settled in without hesitation.

The aroma of the soup was inviting, and I reached for the spoon.

"Elvira," Edward's voice cut through the silence. "In this house," he intoned, "the elders begin the meal."

Reluctantly, I set the spoon back down, shrugged to show I understood.

Dad always said family should not be bogged down by too many rules. Those high-society rituals were suffocating.

I needed to get my hands on the inheritance and get back to Newvale City, pronto.

It was only after Edward picked up his spoon that the rest of us could eat.

Victoria whispered just loud enough, "No manners at all..."

I ignored her. She was not the real challenge there, not with her every move so plainly obvious.

Alice, setting down her spoon, turned to me with a curious gaze. "Sis," she inquired, "is it true you were boxing for money before?"

"Yeah."

"It must've been hard in such places." Her voice dripped with feigned concern. "But you're home now, so no need for such tough work anymore."

"Tough work?" I was puzzled by her logic.

"I mean, boxing isn't really for girls." Alice's smile was patronizing. "You could take up flower arranging or piano. Mom's quite good at it."

Catherine's laughter chimed in, her arrogance effortless and unearned.

"I'm not interested in the piano." I said, my tone deliberate, "I'm planning to run the family business."

The room went still, and Alice's expression turned stormy.

Edward set down his utensils, his voice laced with disapproval. "What did you say?"

"The LaRosa Group's business." My tone was light and easy, "I'm your daughter, aren't I? Why shouldn't I join the company?"

Victoria could not help herself and blurted, "What kind of fantasy world are you living in?!"

'She's definitely not my match,' I mused to myself.

Edward raised his hand, silencing Victoria instantly.

"This company isn't some kids' boxing ring."

"I'm aware." I kept on chewing, not bothering to look up.

I knew he had his reasons, and he was not about to let me waltz into the group just because I said something on a whim.

However, I needed him to understand why I came back.

I was not about to end up like those idiots, pampered and caged until they were good for nothing.

Edward stayed quiet, just watching me, like he was sizing up a product.

"Let's eat first."

The rest of dinner passed in silence.

Afterward, in the corridor, Alice was waiting for me.

She moved in closer, her voice a hushed threat, "Listen: you better figure out where you stand."

"And where's that?" I gave her a dismissive smile, unfazed by her venom.

"A street rat from the slums."

Her arrogance was palpable, yet it had a different flavor than Catherine's haughtiness.

"Don't forget where you came from. The LaRosa estate is mine."

I turned to face her, my smile broadening. "Perhaps you're not aware, Miss Alice, but a street rat fights for what he wants."

She paused, taken aback.

"And trust me, the fight isn't pretty. Hope you're ready for it."

With that, I brushed past her, heading to my room.

Her voice followed, filled with seething rage, "We'll see about that, street rat!"

Once in my room, my phone buzzed with a message from Marco.

[We're settled in the west wing guest room. All's well.]

[We've discovered it was Miss Victoria who had nails scattered on your path.]

Victoria.

I typed back, [Keep tabs on her.]

I walked over to the window, gazing out at the sprawling estate swallowed by the night.

Twinkling lights cast a luxurious glow, luring people in like bait in a trap.

Who would be the prey?

It did not matter. The hunter had already made their entrance.