Chapter 3The Moretti Daughter They Denied

It was after midnight when I arrived at Black Pine.

The isolated house belonged to the Moretti Family. My father used it to hide witnesses and discipline people who had disobeyed him.

Rocco, one of his longtime enforcers, ran the property with his wife, Dana.

The moment I entered, Rocco took my phone and ID. Dana emptied my bag onto the floor.

Three sweaters, four paperbacks, a bottle of fever medicine, and my prepaid cremation receipt fell at her feet.

She picked up the medicine.

“The Don warned us that you like putting on a show when you want sympathy.”

“I have a fever. I need that.”

“You need to confess.”

She locked the medicine in a kitchen cabinet and dropped several sheets of paper onto the table.

The title had already been printed across the top:

Statement Admitting My Attempt to Steal the Moretti Succession

Rocco pushed a pen toward me.

“Sign it.”

“I didn't try to steal anything.”

“Then you stay here until you're ready to tell the truth.”

The first night, my fever climbed until I could barely see.

Dana left canned stew on the counter, but I vomited after the first bite. When I asked for my medicine, she said discomfort was part of the lesson.

At two in the morning, I knocked on the communications-room door.

“Please call an ambulance.”

Rocco didn't open it.

“Save your strength for the confession.”

The next morning, he ordered me to inventory weapons in the basement.

I made it through seven crates before blood began dripping from my nose onto the manifest.

Rocco snatched the paper away.

“Are you trying to destroy Family records now?”

“I'm bleeding.”

“You're making a mess.”

He handed me a rag and ordered me to finish.

On the third day, Dana sent me outside with two cans of diesel for the generator.

I made it halfway across the yard before my knees gave out. Snow soaked through my clothes as I lay there, too weak to stand.

Dana watched from the porch.

Dana watched from the porch and laughed.

“Still think you're some kind of Moretti princess? You're an adopted stray living on the Don's charity. Miss Bianca is the Don's biological daughter and the Family's chosen heir. You tried to steal the place that belongs to her, so you deserve every day you spend here.”

When I still couldn't stand, she called Rocco and had him drag me back inside by one arm.

“I thought you didn't believe I was a Moretti.”

Her expression hardened.

She called Rocco, and he dragged me back inside by one arm.

By the fourth day, bruises covered my skin and my gums had started bleeding.

I unfolded the hospital invoice in front of Rocco and pointed to the diagnosis.

“Call Dr. Hayes. He knows my father. Just read him what's written here.”

For the first time, Rocco hesitated.

He carried the paper into the communications room and contacted Dominic, my father's consigliere.

When he returned, he crumpled the invoice and threw it into the woodstove.

“Dominic says the Don's order stands. No hospital and no release until you confess.”

The red hematology stamp curled in the flames.

“I have leukemia.”

“The Don said you've faked illness for attention before.”

“I could die.”

Rocco looked at me without emotion.

“Then sign.”

That evening, they locked me in a storage room without food.

I curled against the wall, pressing my sleeve beneath my nose as blood continued to soak through it.

Later that evening, I remembered the emergency satellite phone in the hallway.

Dana had forgotten to lock the inner door.

I dragged myself across the floor, reached the phone, and dialed my mother's number.

This was the last time I would ask that family for help.

Not because I still believed my mother would save me.

I needed to know how far they were willing to go.

The phone rang for a long time before she answered.

“Hello?”

She sounded annoyed. Behind her, music and voices filled the St. Vita ballroom. Bianca's induction rehearsal was underway.

“Mom.”

My legs folded beneath me, and I clung to the phone bracket.

“I'm sick. I can't stop bleeding.”

She went silent.

“They won't give me my medicine,” I continued. “They won't call an ambulance. Please tell them to take me to a hospital.”

“Enough, Serena.”

Her voice sharpened.

“Your sister is preparing for the most important night of her life, and you choose now to do this?”

“I'm not trying to ruin her induction.”

“Then sign the statement.”

“I didn't do what Dad accused me of.”

“Black Pine is supposed to teach you gratitude, not give you another stage for your little performances. When you stop lying and apologize to Bianca, we'll consider bringing you home.”

“Mom, I'm bleeding everywhere.”

“And I'm done listening.”

The line went dead.

I remained on the floor with the receiver against my ear.

They called it discipline.

With that one word, they had turned my death into something they believed I deserved.

Rocco rushed into the hallway and ripped the phone from my hand. He dragged me downstairs and threw me into the unheated storm cellar.

The lock turned behind him.

I curled beside the military cot and closed my eyes.

“Fine,” I whispered. “I won't ask any of you to believe me again.”