Who Is the Real Mafia Principessa Chapter 04

Who Is the Real Mafia Principessa Chapter 04

The house was decked out in festive lights, warm and bright inside.

When the door opened, Elowen stood there in an elegant new outfit, her cheeks flushed, snuggling cozily into Mrs. Moretti’s arms.

“Mom, Dad, I’m only home for a few days for break. You really didn’t have to go all out.”

Giancarlo sat nearby, patiently peeling shrimp for her, his eyes soft with affection. “You won another award for school. Our Elowen makes us so proud. Of course we’re celebrating.”

The three of them laughed easily, a picture-perfect family moment.

Rafael’s jaw tightened. He cleared his throat quietly. “Mom, Dad. I brought Althea back.”

The laughter died instantly.

All three heads snapped toward us, their eyes first landing on me, then darting to Rafael’s soaked clothes and the fresh, bright scratches bleeding down his face.

Giancarlo and Mrs. Moretti frowned in unison.

Elowen stood up first and stepped toward me, her tone sharp with unmasked disapproval, like a proper princess scolding an unruly ward.

“Althea, Rafael drove all this way in the snow to pick you up, and you did this to him?”

“You’re old enough for college. Can’t you act like it for once and stop causing trouble?”

Mrs. Moretti’s expression darkened. “Althea, you’re completely out of hand. Your brother just got over a cold.”

Giancarlo snorted, already laying into me out of habit. “You were nothing but trouble in high school—fighting, coming home black and blue. Did you pick up more awful habits in there—”

“Enough.”

Rafael’s voice was low, but colder and firmer than any of them had ever heard it. He frowned. “I did this to myself. It has nothing to do with Althea.”

He paused, then turned to Elowen, his tone sharp in a way she’d never experienced. “And Elowen… Althea never went to college. Think before you speak.”

The room fell completely silent.

The other three stared at him in disbelief. No one could have imagined Rafael would ever snap at his beloved real sister to defend me—the fake one.

Tears welled in Elowen’s eyes instantly, her lips trembling.

“Right! She’s the sister who grew up by your side. I could never compare. Who am I to say anything? I don’t deserve to.”

A conflicted look crossed Rafael’s face, and he looked away.

Mrs. Moretti rushed to hold Elowen tight, her voice sharp with anger. “Rafael! How dare you speak to your sister like that?!”

She then turned her piercing glare on me, familiar impatience and blame written all over her face. “Althea, you too. You just got back and already upset your sister. When will you ever grow up?”

I stared at this wealthy, jewel-clad woman who looked at me like I was a nuisance. The word “Mom” died in my throat.

She wasn’t my real mother. Her cruelty was only to be expected.

“Let’s just eat,” Giancarlo sighed, breaking the tension.

“We’ve been waiting this whole time because of you. Elowen hasn’t even eaten yet.”

I lifted my gaze and spoke for the first time, my voice dry and steady. “Did I make her wait?”

Before anyone could reply, I continued. “Rafael made me come. This has nothing to do with me.”

Elowen gaped at me in shock. “Althea! Are you insane? How dare you speak to him like that?!”

“He’s not my brother,” I said slowly, clearly. “He’s yours.”

Under their stunned stares, I kept going. “I didn’t come here to eat.”

I turned to Elowen, my gaze locking onto hers. “I came to ask you… for my address. The one to my real home.”

“Once I have it, I’ll leave right away. I won’t ruin your family reunion.”

Color drained from Elowen’s face. Her lips moved, but no sound came out.

Mrs. Moretti frowned. “What nonsense are you talking about? This is your home.”

“I mean my real home. Where my birth parents are.” I kept my eyes only on Elowen. “When you visited me in prison, you said you found them. You gave me an address. Please write it again. I can’t remember.”

The air in the room turned thick and heavy.

Giancarlo and Mrs. Moretti both looked at Elowen, their expressions darkening.

Under my stare, Elowen mumbled reluctantly. “Aren’t you happy here? Why do you have to go looking for—”

“I have to!” My whole body shook, my voice rising to a snarl. “I want to go home! I want to be with my mom and dad! I want to go back!!”

Rafael watched me on the edge of breaking, and finally snapped. He turned sharply to Giancarlo and Mrs. Moretti, his voice tight with suppressed rage. “Tell her! The truth! We agreed we’d give her this surprise when she got out!”

I looked at him confused, but he avoided my eyes, staring only at his parents.

As the oldest son, his word carried weight.

Giancarlo and Mrs. Moretti exchanged a look and fell silent. Finally, Mrs. Moretti sighed and spoke to me, her voice carefully gentle, almost coaxing.

“Althea… the truth is… you are our real daughter.”