Chapter 1 Anne

"The Will of Late Leonetti Salvatore, edited according to his demands and conditions." Mr Cannavaro cleared his throat. "There's nothing much to say or share, as it is quite obvious that my son, Emilio Salvatore, will inherit everything I own, ranging from the vineyards, the companies, the industries. And he is to do with it as he pleases."

I smiled at this and smirked to Portia, who just sat expressionless.

"And the Mafia. He is the heir, the one I've chosen to succeed me. But this condition I attach; that he must be married before he can resume full responsibility. And that, that marriage must be to none other than ..............................

10:05 PM.

Staggering a little less than normally, I made my way home, no, to the house, and knocked on the door.

Gently.

Though slightly drunk, I wasn't stupid to go about banging the door. That alone will earn me punishment from my foster parents, Linda and Joseph Matthew. Not that it mattered. They always found the littlest thing to use against me.

Taking in a deep breath, I waited for them to open the door. I turned the knob after hearing a 'click' and stepped into the house. For wicked and heartless people, Linda and Joseph were quite neat. Cross that, they made sure I kept the house neat. They were average classed people, living in the suburb part of the city. Affording complete and rich meals each day, with a good dose of alcohol on the side.

I waited a minute or two, and when I saw no sign of them, I proceeded to run to my room.

"And where do you think you're going?" the menacing voice stopped me in my tracks. Joseph.

"And in such a hurry?" Linda added, a sneer evident in her tone.

I turned around slowly. They were sitting on a sofa, in the dark parlour. No wonder I didn't see them.

"T--to my room," I said with a slight stutter.

Linda cackled, like the witch she was. "Did you hear what she just said, honey?" she asked Joseph who guffawed in response.

"But mom I--"

Before I knew what was happening, her palm connected to my cheeks with a loud 'WHAM!!!' sending me sprawling to the floor.

I'd forgotten; they insisted I never call them mom or dad, unless the social workers were around.

I screamed from the pain and saw stars in my peripheral vision. Like an explosion had gone off in my head.

"I'm not your mother, you stinking daughter of a bitch!" she hissed, pulling my hair and hitting it on the ground.

Joseph knelt down beside me, with one knee on my abdomen, and he grabbed my small wrists in his big hand.

"Shut up, bitch," he growled and used his other hand to muffle me.

I was already quiet, because I couldn't breathe. And soon all my struggles slowed down because of expending energy without breathing.

When he noticed my lack of resistance, he got off me, and I immediately drew in a deep breath, clutching my hurting abdomen and stinging cheeks while blinking away the tears that were threatening to fall.

I'm a strong girl.

I won't cry.

"We're never going to be your parents, damned girl," Linda spat, kicking me in the side, "because you're worthless to everyone. Even your real parents didn't want you! You're a curse!"

"A worthless piece of trash," Joseph added as he squatted and pulled my hand to him forcefully. "And if one word about this leaks out to the social service, you're dead. Understand!?"

I nodded my understanding.

"Good."

He kissed his wife, and then laughing, they moved to their room while doing disgusting things.

When I heard their door lock, I picked myself up, lifted my backpack and headed to my mouse sized room, where I ran a hot shower to treat the bruises on my cheeks and wrists. After that, I applied a balm and crawled onto my bed.

It was when I got my pillow to my face that I let out a long agony scream and allowed the tears to flow.