Who Is the Real Mafia Principessa Chapter 03

Who Is the Real Mafia Principessa Chapter 03

I stared at the soggy pulp of what used to be the address, ink bleeding into nothing. Despair seeped from my bones, swallowing me whole again.

I was so tired.

If I had a knife right now, maybe I could just sleep forever.

Rafael stared at how I’d thrown myself into the water without hesitation. For the first time, his voice softened.

“Althea… why would you…?”

“You weren’t this stubborn when you were little. Why are you taking my anger so seriously now?”

It was true.

He’d told me since I was little, “Althea, you’re just a replacement. Know your place. My only sister is Elowen.”

Back then I’d just giggle and reach for him anyway.

I’d bake his favorite desserts until my hands blistered, and he’d sneer, “Althea, you’re pathetic. Elowen would never grovel like this.”

I’d still smile and hold it out to him.

No matter how cruel he was, little me had trailed after him, pretending his words didn’t sting. I’d clung to the stupid hope that he wasn’t really mean, just grumpy.

Then Elowen came back.

That was when I saw how gentle he could be, how loving.

Once, older kids cornered both of us. He rushed over, pulled Elowen behind him, and didn’t spare me a single glance before walking away.

His friend stared at me in the dirt, stunned. “Rafael, what about this sister?”

“She’s not mine.”

I watched him leave with Elowen, not looking back once, leaving me alone to their taunts and shoves.

I struggled to my feet, trying to piece together what little I remembered of the address. But the words kept fading, blurring beyond recognition.

“Althea, come home with me. Stop this,” Rafael said, his voice cloying, patronizing.

“Mom and Dad and Elowen are waiting for you. It’s New Year’s Eve dinner.”

He reached for my wrist. The touch jolted my old wounds, and everything snapped.

Crack!

I slapped him as hard as I could.

“Rafael! You’re not my brother! What right do you have to tell me what to do?!” My voice was raw, screaming. “I just want to go to my real home! To my real family!”

Rafael’s head snapped to the side. He froze, his eyes locking onto my wrists—covered in thick, silvery scars, crisscrossing each other.

His pupils shrank. His eyes reddened instantly.

“Althea… your arms…” His voice shook, horrified.

“Did someone hurt you in there? I… I paid them to look after you…”

For the first time, he looked sad for me. Hurt for me.

It was absurd.

I’d finally stopped clinging to him, stopped calling him brother.

What right did he have to feel hurt?

Nausea churned in my stomach.

“Rafael,” I said, my voice ice, “don’t act pathetic.”

He didn’t seem to hear me. He grabbed my arm, forced me into the car, and clicked the seatbelt shut tight.

“We’re going to the hospital first.” His voice was tight, unyielding as he started the engine.

“I’m not going to the hospital!! I want to go home!! Let me out!!” I lunged at him, clawing at his shirt, leaving long, bleeding scratches down his face.

Blood dripped down his skin, but he just gritted his teeth, gripped the wheel, and said nothing.

The suffocating silence dragged me back to the tiny, heavily monitored solitary cell in prison.

My mind went blank. The last fragments of the address vanished completely.

I went still, letting go.

Rafael hesitated, then misread my silence. He managed a twisted, pitiful smile. “Althea… you… you still care about me after all…”

I smiled back.

Then I threw myself at the steering wheel with everything I had.

I couldn’t go home.

Fine.

We’d die together.

Screech!!

Tires screamed. The car spun out and slammed into the guardrail, a heavy thud echoing through the metal.

The airbag exploded. Rafael gasped for breath, blood trickling down his forehead, terror still in his eyes from the near-death crash.

He turned to me, staring at my obvious disappointment, his voice shaking.

“Althea… do you really want to die that badly?”

“What happened to you…?”

I lifted my empty eyes to his. He swallowed hard, trying to sound gentle, coaxing.

“Okay… okay… we won’t go to the hospital. We’ll go home. Alright?”

I dropped my gaze and whispered a quiet, “Mm.”

Seeing me docile again, Rafael’s tense shoulders relaxed. He let out a long, relieved breath.

He thought I’d finally obeyed.

He had no idea.

I’d just remembered something.

Elowen knew where my real home was.

And I was going to ask her myself.