The Real Mafia Heiress They Left Behind Chapter 07

The Real Mafia Heiress They Left Behind Chapter 07

The next several days were suffocating.

A heavy gloom settled over the Moretti estate unlike anything the family had ever experienced.

Their mother barely slept.

Night after night, she found herself wandering to the tiny storage room that Serena had once called her bedroom, only to stand there staring at the empty space.

Marco never mentioned finding Serena an apartment in Washington, D.C. again.

Luca, meanwhile, seemed to lose his mind.

He pulled every favor he had, using every connection available to trace flights to England.

He found nothing.

Serena had disappeared too cleanly.

She had severed every trail that could possibly lead back to her.

Finally, their father slammed his hand onto the table.

“That’s it. I’m driving upstate.”

He stood abruptly.

“Getting a passport, a visa, plane tickets… none of that happens without help. Someone from the farm has to

know something.”

That weekend, the entire Moretti family, along with Luca, drove to the small farming town where Serena had spent the first fifteen years of her life.

It was the first time in three years that any of them had set foot there.

The old farmhouse had partially collapsed, looking ready to cave in completely.

Next door, Mrs. Anderson was trimming flowers in her front yard.

The moment she saw the luxury SUVS pull into the driveway, her expression turned icy.

“Well, look who finally showed up,” she said with a mocking smile. “Didn’t expect the rich folks from the city to visit our little backwater.”

Their mother forced a smile.

“Mrs Anderson… we’re here to ask about Serena.”

“Has she contacted you recently?”

Mrs. Anderson threw the dead branches in her hand onto the ground and stood up.

“Contact me?”

“The poor girl had to flee all the way to England because of what your family put her through.”

“What would she have to say to me now?”

Marco frowned.

“What do you mean because of us?”

“She grew up running wild on that farm.”

“We brought her back to the city to give her a better life, and she still wasn’t grateful.”

“Running wild?”

Mrs. Anderson looked as though she’d just heard the most ridiculous thing imaginable.

Her eyes turned red with fury.

Without another word, she stormed inside and returned carrying an old rusted metal box.

She threw it at their mother’s feet.

It landed with a loud clang.

The lid flew open.

Dozens of coins scattered across the ground.

Several crumpled one and five dollar bills spilled out alongside faded money order receipts.

Mrs. Anderson glared at them.

“This is what you call ‘running wild‘?”

“Did you have any idea what kind of life that child lived under your mother?”

“Or were you all too blind to notice?”

“That old woman only cared about her grandson.”

“She had Serena working in the barn every single day.”

“In the middle of winter, the poor girl didn’t even own a decent pair of boots.”

“Her feet were covered in frostbite, and she still had to wash clothes in that freezing creek.”

Mrs. Anderson jabbed a finger toward their mother.

“She saved every bite of good food instead of eating it herself.”

“She asked people traveling into the city to deliver it to your precious little Ivy.”

She pointed at the money scattered across the ground.

“She earned every cent here.”

“She got up before sunrise every day to work odd jobs.”

“Collected scrap.”

“Did whatever she could.”

“She used to tell me that her brother and sister in the city always had beautiful gifts.”

“So she wanted to save enough money to buy them presents too.”

Her voice trembled with anger.

“And what did she get in return?”

“You brought her home just so she’d become your family’s maid.”

“She ruined her hands catching fish in an icy creek so she could save money

for

your gifts…”

“And you have the nerve to say she grew up wild?”

Their mother stared at the pile of coins.

Her face turned ghostly white.

A forgotten memory suddenly surfaced.

When Serena had first returned to the city, both of her hands had been swollen with painful frostbite.

She had frowned in disgust and said,

“Your hands are filthy. Don’t touch Ivy’s clothes.”

Marco stood frozen.

He remembered Serena timidly handing him an inexpensive fountain pen.

He had tossed it straight into the trash.

At the time, he’d sneered,

[“Only someone like you would think this cheap junk is worth anything.“]

Luca couldn’t take his eyes off the metal box.

Slowly, he crouched beside it.

Among the loose change, he spotted a neatly folded sheet of paper.

His hands shook as he unfolded it.

It was the very first letter he had ever written to Serena.

Across the front, in childish handwriting, were the words:

[“Don’t be scared, Serena. I’ll protect you from now on.“]

He turned it over.

On the back was a single line written in Serena’s small, careful handwriting.

[“Luca is the best person in the whole world. Serena needs to grow up quickly so she can go to the city and

find him.“]

A tear struck the page before Luca even realized he was crying.

Everything he had believed was love…

Every excuse he’d made for favoring Ivy…

Had become the sharpest blade imaginable.

And now that blade was buried deep inside his own heart.

At last…

He understood what he had truly lost.

A girl who had once loved him with every piece of her heart.