Chapter 2

“Adelia sent the butler for the suitcase, and you made him come back empty-handed?”

“The butler and the servants were watching. Did you have to embarrass your sister?”

“I need it.”

This time, I didn't give in.

“Forget it. I'll use my own. Don't fight with Viola over me.”

Adelia spoke softly from behind them, her eyes red.

My mother held her, while my father soothed her in a low voice.

Leandro watched me for a moment, then went to his room.

A little later, he came out pulling a sky-blue suitcase.

“Adelia, use this one.”

My grip tightened on the doorknob. That was the suitcase I'd given Leandro as a gift.

Adelia knew that perfectly well. She made a point of looking at me.

“But Viola bought that for you. Won't she be upset?”

Leandro looked at me without a hint of hesitation. He was doing it on purpose, and he was about to say something.

I cut him off.

“It's fine. I gave it to him. He can do whatever he wants with it.”

The room went quiet for a moment.

Leandro turned sharply toward me, his brow furrowing.

But he didn't say another word. He led Adelia away.

No one called me for dinner. When I came out, they were deep in conversation.

“We need to decorate the new estate's banquet hall properly. We'll be inviting the Dons from the other families.”

After my mother finished speaking, Leandro joined in.

“Dad's study and the security room are taken care of. The reception room on my floor will have a dedicated line to the port office.”

Adelia cut off a piece of roast beef and smiled as she joined in.

“You can decide on the rest, but my floor has to be the way I want it. The designer's already made the changes I asked for.”

My father wasn't part of the discussion. He was cutting his steak.

He looked up, saw me, and immediately cleared his throat.

Their conversation stopped instantly.

So the family had bought a new estate, and I was the only one who didn't know.

I sat down and took a forkful of the cold green beans beside me. My throat hurt as I swallowed.

My mother exchanged a look with my father, then parted her lips.

“Viola, we've saved a room for you in the rear building at the new estate. It's next to the kitchen and laundry room, so you won't have to keep going back and forth while you work. Go take a look when things are quiet at the club.”

I swallowed the food. My voice came out rough.

“How long ago did you buy it?”

“Six months ago. We just never got around to telling you.”

I could tell the difference between not having a chance to tell me and not wanting to.

I murmured in acknowledgment, then suddenly asked:

“What's the gate code?”

“09070404.”

September seventh. April fourth. Leandro's birthday and Adelia's.

I looked up at her and opened my mouth.

“Mom, when's my birthday?”

My mother froze, as if she didn't understand why I would ask.

“What, you need us to tell you your own birthday?”

My father smiled, thinking I'd really forgotten.

“You were born early, on a snowy winter night. Your mother slipped on the porch and nearly died having you. She's always said you've given her trouble since the day you were born.”

My mother coughed, her expression uneasy, and looked away.

“Eat. Why bring that up?”

I lowered my head, too, but I couldn't stop my hands from shaking.

Soon, Leandro and Adelia finished eating, dropped their knives and forks onto their plates, and went back to their rooms.

After my father left, my mother got up, too.

“Viola, clear these dishes. I already told the maid she isn't allowed to do it for you. You should learn to take care of your own family.”

Then she turned and left.

The table was piled with leftovers, greasy plates, and a few wineglasses stained with wine.

I was always the last to finish eating.

When dinner started, I was still in the laundry room or the kitchen, and no one came to get me.

My mother sent a servant to get Leandro. My father waited for Adelia to sit down before having the food served.

By the time I came out of the laundry room or kitchen, most of the food was gone.

When they finished, my mother specifically told the servants to leave the plates for me to wash.

So I was always the one who washed them.

My grandparents called while I was cleaning the kitchen.

“Leandro said you're taking Adelia to a gathering in Sicily?”

“Yes, and we'll spend a few days by the sea. Is there anything you'd like us to bring you?”

My grandmother laughed and said no.

“Isn't Viola going?”

My mother answered without a second thought.

“No. She says she prefers working behind the scenes, and the family needs her for the banquets.”

“That girl...”

My grandfather sighed and didn't ask again.

That was how my parents always answered throughout my four years of college.

“Isn't Viola coming to the family's anniversary banquet?”

“No. She hasn't finished her paper for school.”

“Isn't Viola going to the ski get-together with you?”

“No. She doesn't like sports.”

“Why isn't Viola in the family photo?”

“She says her skin's been acting up lately. She won't pose for pictures.”

...

According to them, I had no social skills, didn't like gatherings or cameras, and only wanted to hide in the kitchen or work at the club.

That way, no one would ask why I wasn't there.

After all, I was the one who didn't want to come.