The two of them held up their phones, scrolling through the messages flooding in, laughing endlessly. It was as if they could already see themselves welcomed through the gates of the Moretti Estate as the saviors of the Family.
I stayed quiet, ignoring their smugness, and focused on heading back to my room to pack my belongings.
My mother clicked her tongue and looked me up and down, sneering with disdain. "You really don't know how to enjoy life, do you? You're just destined to break your back at the docks. A money-loser through and through!"
My father sighed dramatically, shaking his head and wiping his palms down the front of his trousers. "If only you were half as useful as your sister, I wouldn't still be hauling crates down at the warehouse for men who wouldn't spit on me."
Gemma strutted over with her phone, waving the screen in front of me like a trophy. "You're so clueless, aren't you? Don Moretti himself has already reached out to me. He wants to meet."
Her voice dripped with smugness as she continued, "He knows all about what I did for his boy. He even sent over a whole tribute box of fine things. You couldn't afford a single one of them if you worked every miserable day of your life."
She leaned in closer, her tone oozing mockery. "There's still time to get on my good side. You are my sister, after all. Once the tribute comes in, maybe I'll toss you twenty thousand out of pity."
Her words made my stomach churn, and I couldn't hold back. "Have you lost your mind?" I said sharply. "The Don's son has been wounded for days, and you've been the one whispering that story through the whole neighborhood. You think a man like Lorenzo Moretti just hands over cash? You're practically signing your own death warrant."
No sooner had I said this than my mother gasped loudly. She had just spotted something new on her screen, a statement put out under the Moretti name.
The word had gone out, clean and absolute. The Don's son had been abroad the whole time, untouched, never harmed. The story crawling through the tenement was branded a lie, and those who repeated it would answer for it.
Within moments, the comment sections that had been so alive fell silent, and every post about Gemma vanished as if a hand had simply wiped them away.
Gemma's face drained of color, and she froze. My parents, too, began pacing frantically around the room.
Then, just as panic took hold, Gemma's phone pinged. A message had come in under Lorenzo Moretti's name.
"I'll send my men for you. Be downstairs in five minutes."
At once, her nervous expression melted away, replaced by a triumphant smirk. She laughed a half-beat too quickly and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, then waved her phone in my face. "See? The Moretti Family isn't going to make a spectacle out of this. Men of that rank keep things quiet, everyone knows that. But they still came to me right away. The tribute's probably already on its way."
Her voice turned cutting. "You're so spineless, you'll never amount to anything. You're not even fit to carry my shoes. Get lost."
She shoved me aside and strutted into her bedroom to change.
Meanwhile, my parents turned their frustration on me.
"You're useless!" my father barked, wiping his palms down his trousers again. "You don't have your sister's gifts, but you're quick to tear her down. Why did we even bother taking you in?"
"If you want to leave, then leave!" My mother snapped, her voice rising. "All you do is get in the way!" Her eyes glistened with greed as she added, "This is our chance. We made the right gamble. Who knows, maybe we'll be sleeping in an estate above our station by tonight."
My father, already lost in the fantasy, pulled out his phone and began scrolling through luxury cars. He called a dealer and put money down on a Maybach on the spot. My mother, not to be outdone, dug out a dress she'd hidden away for years, painted her face flawless, and started planning where she'd spend the first of the laundered cash.
Seeing their unbridled excitement, I quietly returned to my room to finish packing.
As I stepped outside with my belongings, I was met by a crowd of neighbors who had gathered after hearing the noise.
Envious voices filled the air.
"Your daughter is a real blessing. I saw it spreading online, it's the Moretti Family. You'll never want for tribute again."
"Don't forget about us when you're living behind those walls."
"If I'd known a thing like this could happen, I'd have sent my husband down to work the Moretti docks. This is like winning a place in the Family overnight. I heard the steps inside Don Moretti's estate are laid in real gold."
My parents basked in the attention, grinning from ear to ear. They eagerly promised everyone that once Gemma had the Don's favor, they'd see their neighbors looked after too.
Amid their laughter and chatter, a long black car rolled to a stop outside.
Five men stepped out, broad and unhurried, their faces cold and their eyes already counting exits. The street went quiet around them.
"Which one of you is Gemma?" one of them said, his voice flat and even. He let his gaze move once across the gathered crowd, and the boasting died on every tongue. "Come with us, down to the warehouse. The Don wants to see you."
