Eight Years as the Invisible Mafia Princess of the Family Chapter 04
The air in the living room went dead silent. Panic flashed through my mom’s eyes for half a second before it hardened into anger. “Vesper, you’re poking through family documents now?”
Katerina’s face went pale. “Vesper, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know they were giving me the western holdings. If it bothers you, I can turn it down.”
Dad’s voice cut her off, heavy and hard. “You don’t need to apologize. It’s ours to give. We’re giving it to you.”
Mom added, “Vesper, enough with the money talk. You’re our blood. That’ll never change. But Katerina—her father was dying. He put her in our arms. I swore to him she’d be mine too.”
I asked quietly, “What about me?”
She froze. “What?”
“Do I even have parents?”
Silas’s face darkened. “Are you serious right now, Vesper? You live in the Rossetti estate. You have security. You never went hungry, never wanted for dresses or drivers. And you’re standing there asking if you even have parents?”
I’d swallowed it down for so long. I couldn’t anymore. “My boarding school tuition? Scholarships paid that. The travel for the Johns Hopkins summer research program? I saved up for it by cleaning up data for the family clinic for six months.”
“Last year I was hospitalized with gastritis. I called Mom. She said Katerina had a nightmare and she couldn’t leave her.”
I lifted my bandaged hand. “Five stitches today. None of you asked if it hurt. Mom, why do I have to pay for the vow you made to her dad?”
My mom’s face drained white. Her lips moved, but nothing came out. My father’s expression slammed shut. “Enough! Vesper, you’ve crossed the line today.”
A memory hit me out of nowhere, from years ago. Not long after Katerina first came to the estate, my mom told me I had to give Katerina my bedroom. She said, “Katerina just lost her father. She needs a room where she feels safe. You have us—she doesn’t have anyone. Just be understanding, okay?”
Later, I wasn’t allowed to play the piano at home anymore because Katerina said the sound reminded her of her dad’s funeral. My birthday party got canceled because the date was too close to her father’s death anniversary and it would upset her. They always said the same thing, “Vesper, you’ve got us. She doesn’t.”
Eight years passed. She got my parents, my fiancé, and the home that was supposed to be mine. I got nothing.
I pulled the lab deed out of my bag and set it on the table. “You want this share? Fine.”
“Sign the papers. I’m done with the Rossetti family.”
My father shot to his feet. The next second, his palm cracked across my face. “You really think getting into some university makes you too big for this family? Fine. If you want to cut ties, then don’t expect another dime from us from this moment on!”
From that day forward, the estate split into two worlds. One side—a warm, whole family. The other side—me. No one checked on me. No one said a word.
Honestly, it wasn’t all that different. Even when I used to sit right next to them, I was always outside their conversation anyway.
The morning I left came fast. I was dragging my luggage downstairs when Katerina looked up from her breakfast. “Vesper, eat something before you go.”
I glanced toward the kitchen on instinct. The counters were spotless. No extra cup. No spare plate. I didn’t say a word. I turned and walked out of the estate. Not one person stepped outside to see me off.
At the private terminal, Elio Ferrante—consigliere to the Vitale family—was already waiting. He laid a thick contract on the table in front of me. “Confirm one more time. For the next four years, you’ll complete your undergrad at Columbia, then enter the joint program between NYU Grossman School of Medicine and the Vitale Medical Foundation.”
“Tuition, lab access, security, and living expenses—all covered by the Vitale family. In exchange, you go under full protection. For eight years, your identity is sealed. No New Orleans. No old ties. Vesper Rossetti disappears from everything that matters.”
I nodded, steady and sure. “I’m sure.”
Right before I went through security, I opened my phone one last time. The family group chat was buzzing. My mom had sent a flood of photos. The four of them were standing in front of the Rossetti private jet at New Orleans Lakefront Airport.
Katerina was clinging to Dad’s arm. Silas was holding her jacket. Every single one of them was beaming. I popped out my SIM card and dropped it in the trash.
Then Elio led me through the private corridor and I stepped onto the Vitale family plane. We climbed through the clouds, headed east. I didn’t look back.
…
Hours later, the Rossetti private jet had just touched down in Bozeman. My mom checked her phone and frowned. “Vesper should be in New York by now. She can’t even send a text to say she landed? She really sees us as enemies?”
Dad stayed quiet a moment, then said low, “We did neglect her before. Let’s get Katerina settled, and then we’ll go visit her in New York.”
Silas was scrolling through the news. The color drained right out of his face. “Mrs. Rossetti!” He shoved his phone toward her, his hand trembling uncontrollably.
On the screen was a breaking-news alert in bold red. [Breaking: At approximately 10:15 a.m. today, DM Air Flight 4922 from New Orleans to New York lost contact over the Appalachian Mountains. Aviation authorities have confirmed a crash. Rescue teams are en route.]
It was the exact flight my mom had booked me on.