Betrayed By Blood, Claimed By The Don

I was born into a ruthless Mafia family, but while my twin sister Serena was treated like a golden princess, I was just the disposable pawn.

I secretly broke a decade-old Syndicate decryption record, proving I was a tactical mastermind.

But when the results came out, my parents and my childhood crush Luca completely ignored me.

They crowded around Serena to comfort her over her failing grade, and told me my flawless score was just a system glitch.

To fund Serena's initiation into the elite ranks, my mother stole my $38,000 hidden escape fund—blood money I had starved to save for eighteen years—just to buy her a gold bracelet.

When I confronted them, my brother dragged me across the floor, and they locked me in my bedroom.

"You are an ungrateful asset, and you should be honored to contribute to her success."

I had played the obedient, slow-witted soldier my whole life, giving up my food, safety, and dignity.

I couldn't understand why my own bloodline was so eager to bleed me dry just to manufacture Serena's fake perfection.

They thought I was trapped in that dark room, broken and waiting for their mercy.

Instead, I wiped my digital footprint, accepted a recruitment offer from the most lethal Mafia boss in New York, and climbed out the window.

This time, I chose to rule the shadows myself.

Chapter 1

Serafina POV

While my parents uncorked a bottle of Veuve Clicquot to celebrate my twin sister pledging her mediocre skills to the Chicago Outfit, I stared at the encrypted message flickering on my hidden screen:

"Welcome to the New York Vitiello Famiglia. If your decryption score is verified, you belong to the Don. If you lied, you die before sunrise."

My thumb traced the outline of the submit button. To press it was to formally disown my own blood.

This choice would bind my fate to Alessandro Vitiello, the most lethal mafia boss in the country. He was the supreme ruler of the apex New York Syndicate, a dominion built on blood, the kind of power that could end a life with a twitch of a finger, and a reputation for skinning traitors alive. He was a man who commanded the dark, possessing a wild, dangerous magnetism that made entire crime families bow at his feet. But to me, he was an escape.

Staying in this house meant letting my own bloodline bleed me dry until I was nothing but a hollow shell.

I locked my screen and slipped the device into my pocket, the chill of its metal case a small, hard point of reality against my thigh.

The cloying scent of roasted meat and expensive wine made the air in the dining room of the Rossi compound feel thick and heavy. My entire family was gathered around Serena, their attention fixed on her as if she were a newly lit altar candle. Her blonde hair caught the light of the overhanging chandelier as she giggled at something Luca said.

Luca Romano, our childhood friend and a rising Soldier in the ranks, leaned against the mahogany table, his gaze fixed on my sister, his devotion so complete it seemed to press down on the very floorboards she walked on.

Salvatore, my older brother and a brutal enforcer for the family, slammed his hand on the table in a fit of excitement. "The Chicago Outfit is perfect for you, Serena," he boomed, tilting the champagne bottle over her glass. "The inner circle will treat you like a goddamn princess. You belong in a high-tier territory where powerful Made Men can pamper you."

Vincenzo, my father, nodded vigorously. He puffed on his cigar, the smoke clouding the air. "We only want the best for our golden girl."

Rosa, my mother, smoothed Serena's delicate silk dress. She looked at Serena like she was the only child she had ever birthed—a look of such consuming adoration that I had taught myself to stop craving when I was eight years old.

Almost as an afterthought, Salvatore turned his head toward me. I was sitting at the far end of the table, half-submerged in the room's deep shadows, a stranger at my own family's table.

"Serafina, just pledge your loyalty to the local front operation downtown," came his dismissal, accompanied by an impatient flick of his wrist.

Luca chimed in, his eyes still trained on Serena. "Yeah, keep it close. We need you available to run errands for us on the weekends."

I looked at the four of them, feeling their disregard settle over me not like a wave, but like a slow, quiet burial in dust.

I remembered our childhood games of cops and robbers in the courtyard. I was always forced to play the wicked informant. I was the disposable pawn meant to be sacrificed so Serena could be crowned the hero. Nothing had changed.

My mind drifted to the master ledger I had decrypted three days ago. The decrypted report traced the flow of twelve phantom accounts down to the last cent, without a single line of redundant code—a feat that had broken a decade-old Syndicate record. I possessed the intellect to dominate the High Commission, to bring rival syndicates to their knees. But when the results came in, no one in this room cared.

Serena had cried over a minor miscalculation on her own basic test, and the entire family—Vincenzo, Rosa, Salvatore, and Luca—had crowded around her. They comforted her, wiping away her artfully produced tears.

Rosa had patted my shoulder, her smile a mask of condescension as she told me my flawless score was probably a clerical error in the scoring matrix.

She suggested I should consider myself lucky if the Commission even allowed me to retake the remedial exam.

I realized then that I would forever be a shadow within these walls. Every insight I had ever offered at their strategy tables had been dismissed, then repackaged as Serena's brilliance. Every skill I had honed in secret was invisible to them, because acknowledging it would shatter the narrative they had built around their golden daughter. My only purpose in this bloodline was to be the unlit background against which Serena's manufactured perfection could shine.

I surrendered my dresses, my portions of food, and my safety for eighteen years. I maintained the role of the invisible soldier, burying my capabilities so deep that even I sometimes forgot they were there, because survival demanded it.

I looked at Luca, the familiar ache of betrayal a cold knot tightening in my gut. He was once the only exception in my dark world, the boy whose promises of protection had been a recurring whisper. I decided to test him one last time, to see if that last thread would fray on its own.

"Luca."

My voice was quiet, but it cut through the laughter. "Did you really give up your dream of joining the ruthless New York enforcers just for Serena?"

Luca frowned, his expression that of a man swatting at an irritating fly interrupting his perfect evening. "Territories don't matter, Serafina," he scoffed impatiently. "The only thing that matters is keeping Serena happy and safe."

The hopeful, swelling sensation in my chest froze for a second, then receded like a tide, leaving only a hollow echo between my ribs.

Any lingering attachment I had to these people evaporated into nothing.

My hand went to my pocket, my finger finding the cool glass of the screen. With no further hesitation, I pressed submit. A moment later, my phone buzzed in my pocket.

It was a single, curt vibration.

The New York Syndicate had received my pledge, and its master was coming to collect.

I looked across the table at the family celebrating a daughter who wasn't me, and I smiled—a cold, private thing no one noticed. They thought I had nowhere to go. They had never been more wrong. And in seven days, I would make sure they finally saw what they had thrown away.