The Mafia Don’s Runaway Baby

I knew that to disappear from under the noses of two mafia families, I needed three things: money, an identity, and the right moment.

I just needed to get my escape fund.

In my bedroom, hidden behind three years of my life poured onto a canvas, was a safe.

Inside were bearer bonds I’d secretly bought with my father’s inheritance, and a flawless new identity.

I pushed open the living room door and froze.

Alessio and Gianni were on the sofa. Bianca was curled up in Alessio's arms. The three of them were laughing.

Bianca was wearing a pale pink silk nightgown. It used to be my favorite.

She was pressed against Alessio's chest, just like she used to. "Alessio," she purred, "you don't think Marcella will kick me out, do you? I'm so scared..."

"Of course not," Gianni promised, his voice so gentle I barely recognized it. "This will always be your home, Bianca."

Always your home.

The words stabbed me in the heart.

I remembered my third day back in the Ricci family, three years ago.

In public, Bianca smiled sweetly at me. "Sister, welcome home."

In private, she slipped our grandfather's antique pocket watch into my suitcase.

Then, at a family dinner, she pointed at me in front of everyone. "Marcella stole Grandpa's watch!"

Gianni's face went rigid. "Marcella! How could you!"

He locked me in my room for three days without a second thought.

Alessio was even colder. "Disinfect everywhere she's touched," he ordered the maids. "Everything." His voice dripped with disgust, like I was a plague.

For three days, I cried in that dark room until my throat was raw.

It was only when my sick father came home and checked the security footage that my name was cleared.

But the damage was done.

Bianca cried and apologized. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean it. I was just… I was just afraid of losing my home."

Gianni hugged her, his heart aching for her. "It's okay. We understand."

Alessio nodded. "You'll always be family."

And me?

I got a dismissive, "The misunderstanding is cleared up now."

"Marcella?"

Alessio's voice pulled me back to the present.

He saw me and immediately, awkwardly, pushed Bianca away. He stood up to walk toward me.

"You're back. We were worried—"

I flinched back, avoiding his outstretched hand.

Alessio froze.

Bianca stood up, a flash of triumph in her eyes before she put on a pitiful face.

"Marcella, I'm sorry. It's my fault. I shouldn't have come back."

Tears started rolling down her cheeks.

Instantly, Alessio and Gianni were in front of her, like bodyguards.

"Bianca, don't say that," Gianni said urgently.

Alessio just repeated his line from three years ago. "This will always be Bianca's home. She can come back whenever she wants."

Always Bianca's home.

Such a familiar line.

Three years, and nothing has changed.

In their hearts, Bianca is the one who needs protecting.

And I'm always the outsider. The threat.

"Marcella, say something," Gianni said, frowning at me. "Bianca already apologized."

"Yes," Bianca sobbed. "I know I shouldn't have come back and bothered you, but... but I really have nowhere else to go."

Her tears flowed faster, making her look helpless.

Alessio's expression softened. He went to her, stroking her hair.

"Don't cry. You're not bothering anyone by staying here."

Bothering anyone.

He meant I wouldn't be bothered.

But did they ever ask me?

Did they ever care how I felt?

I watched them, and the last flicker of warmth in my heart died.

They were waiting for me to cry, to scream, to have a hysterical fit like I used to.

But I'm not that desperate girl from three years ago.

I just looked at them, my heart a block of ice. "Oh," I said, my voice barely a whisper.

Then I turned and walked upstairs.

Behind me, the world went silent.

"Oh?" Gianni's voice was filled with disbelief. "That's it?"

I didn't look back. I just kept climbing the stairs.

I heard Bianca's panicked voice behind me. "What's… what's with her?"

"Something's wrong," Alessio's voice was tense. "She's never this calm."

I pushed open my bedroom door, ready to pack.

Footsteps followed me.

Alessio stared at me for a second, shook off Bianca who was trying to cling to him, and followed me into the room.