The Mafia’s Unwanted Daughter Is Now Their Downfall Chapter 18

The Mafia’s Unwanted Daughter Is Now Their Downfall Chapter 18

On graduation day, I saw my parents again.

In just four years, they seemed to have aged a decade.

They stood before me, their eyes full of weariness.

From what they said, I pieced together what had happened

after I left.

They had never sent the formal statement I demanded.

But after that phone call, I had given them one final forty–eight hours.

When the time ran out, I sent the encrypted file to every guest who had been invited to that banquet, and to the

advisers of several allied Families.

The evidence never went to the police.

It never reached the public media.

It simply went back to the very people Father had invited to

witness his lie.

My parents had always assumed that some insider who

couldn’t stomach the deceit had leaked the truth.

I never corrected them.

The full footage and the recording of Bianca’s hallway phone call spread quickly through private channels among the

allies.

The truth never had to leave that world.

To preserve the shreds of credibility the Moretti Family had left, Father was forced to strike Bianca’s name from all

formal guest lists and convoy protection rosters.

No Family was willing to vouch for her anymore, and no one wanted to be seen in public with someone who had drugged

her own blood and deceived their allies.

She couldn’t bear the attacks and the isolation. Later, she

became seriously ill and had to take a leave from school,

remaining confined to the mansion.

She blamed everything on our parents, insisting they were

the ones who had ruined her.

In the end, they sent her to a treatment center far from their territory and stopped visiting her altogether.

They took my hand, their faces etched with regret.

“Elena, this time we really know we were wrong.”

“We’re so sorry.”

I only withdrew my hand gently, said nothing, and turned to walk toward the classmates and professors waiting for me.

My diploma said Elena Moretti.

I never changed my last name, because it no longer represented protection granted by someone else. It was the name I had reclaimed with my own two hands, the name I

carried out of the wreckage of my past.

Next week, I would start my job as a data security engineer

at a global trading company in New York.

It took me four full years to pull myself out of the past.

That family love I had once so desperately wanted–I no longer needed it.

Luca’s lost status and my parents‘ belated tears couldn’t make me turn back.

I walked out of the auditorium and closed the last unread

email from California.

And then I walked toward my own life.