The Shoeshine Girl and Her Godfather Father Chapter 01

The Shoeshine Girl and Her Godfather Father Chapter 01

I crossed paths with my father outside a mall three years after I started shining shoes for a living.

He was buying jewelry for his new wife, and when he saw me, he froze for a moment.

Before walking away, he pulled a thick wad of cash from his wallet and tossed it at my feet.

“Quit this. Go back to school. Have your mom take you out for a nice meal.”

I didn’t say a word. I threw the money right back at him.

His face went rigid, a deep frown settling between his brows.

“You’ve got the same damn stubborn streak as your mother.”

“If either of you had just swallowed your pride, would you be out here shining shoes?” he snapped.

“You were supposed to be the princess of the Moretti family.”

“Go tell your mother that if she’s willing to apologize to Renata, I might be generous enough to send you two some support. For old times’ sake.”

I just looked at him coldly.

Did he really not know? My mother had died three years ago.

His gaze swept over me—the ripped clothes, the scars and cuts covering my hands—and for the first time, something like regret flashed across his face.

“I never should’ve let you go with your mother.”

“Look at the life you’ve had with her. You’ve suffered for nothing.”

My jaw tightened. “That’s none of your concern, sir. How we’ve lived has nothing to do with you.”

His face darkened. “Fine. Suit yourselves. Just don’t come crawling back to me later.”

Then he left.

The old woman who sold trinkets at the next stall hurried over, still looking shaken.

“Sophia, did you offend him or something?”

“He may look respectable, but that’s the Don of the Moretti family. Did you see the family tattoo on his arm?”

“He’s a dangerous man. But everyone says he’s tough as steel and soft only for the woman he loves. I heard he’s still devoted to his ex-wife.”

I let out a cold laugh.

“She’s his ex-wife, isn’t she? If he was really devoted, why did he divorce her?”

The old woman refused to give up.

She launched into every rumor she’d ever picked up around the neighborhood.

“They say he turned against his own family for her.”

“He walked away from the life of an heir and spent eighteen years living in the slums with his wife.”

“You’ve seen the wealthy side of town, right? He even built a huge estate for their daughter.”

“Isn’t that devotion?”

My fists clenched. I fought down the hatred boiling inside me.

“He spent eighteen years pretending to be poor. Lied to his wife—made her sell blood to pay off debts that never even existed.”

“Their daughter had her leg shattered. His wife was beaten to death by debt collectors.”

“And did he ever come home? Did he even once look back? What kind of devotion is that?”

The old woman’s eyes widened.

“How do you know all that?”

A dawning horror crossed her face.

“Wait… are you…”

I swallowed the ache rising in my throat.

“Yes. My mother was his ex-wife. And I’m his daughter.”

The old woman immediately fell silent.

After a long moment, she couldn’t stop herself from asking.

“But your mother… she’s not still…”

I didn’t answer. I grabbed my crutch and pushed myself to my feet.

Then I limped away, leaving the mall behind.

The old woman stared at the empty space where my right leg should have been, her eyes filling with sympathy.

Holding a bouquet of white flowers, I slowly made my way toward the place where we used to live.

Everything had been torn down three years ago. Nothing was left but an empty lot.

There used to be an old oak tree there.

The three of us would sit beneath it on summer afternoons.

Back then, Dad would wrap an arm around Mom, hold my hand, and smile.

“When our little girl grows up, Daddy’s gonna build you the biggest estate you’ve ever seen. Sound good, sweetheart?”

Now there was only a small mound of dirt.

I placed the flowers beside my mother’s grave.

My voice came out rough and broken.

“Mom. I’m here to see you.”