Betrayed And Sold To The Mafia King

Valeria

"You're making a scene again, Valeria," my father hissed, not looking away from the television. "You're always thinking the whole world is conspiring against you."

I stood in shock in the living room with my fists clenched at my sides. "I'm not being dramatic. I have proof. Lorenzo stole from the company. He has siphoned tens of thousands of dollars out of the company's account."

"So?" he said flatly. "He's your brother. He probably needed it."

I glanced over to my mother, who was sitting on the couch with one leg crossed over the other, idly stirring the contents of wine in a glass.

"Mother," I said without pleading. "Please, say something. You can't possibly agree with this."

But mother gave me a long, slow sigh. "Valeria, you're making it sound like it's the end of the world. Perhaps if you hadn't made everything about that small wine business, you wouldn't be this up tight right now."

I blinked. "Little wine business? I started that company from nothing. I worked for it. I supported this family with the earnings."

" You chosed to," Lorenzo leaned against the frame of the door behind me, sipping his drink. "No one told you to act like a martyr."

"You drained the company," I snapped, turning to look at him. "Half a million gone. I have the bank reports, Lorenzo."

"And I said I was gonna pay it back," he said with a shrug. "You're acting like though I killed someone."

"You may as well have," I murmured. "You stabbed me."

At last Father stood, looking irritated. "You're embarrassing yourself now. You'd think this is the first business to go down? People declare bankruptcy all the time."

"But I'm not bankrupt yet!" I shouted. "You've all robbed me and I'm the one that has to pay for it! How is that fair?"

Mom took another sip of wine, her gaze still locked on her glass. "You're just too emotional. This isn't healthy. Maybe take a few days off."

I stared at her. At all of them. The people I had loved, pleased and made sacrifices for, all my life. And yet there they were, watching me unravel as though it meant nothing.

I didnt say another word, instead, I picked up my bag, and I left. No one followed behind me, no one tried to stop me.

The cold was bitingly sharp outside, but it didn't sting as much as all that silence my family had left behind. I had to crumple my paper notes to keep my hands from shaking as I slipped into the car and my breath misted the windshield.

I didn't remember the drive. But I recalled the silence, and then the heavy thud of my apartment door closing behind me.

Inside, the warmth meant nothing to me as my bones were already cold.

I went directly to the liquor cabinet to pour myself a glass of wine - dark red, the kind I used to raise in celebration of business deals and awards. Tonight, it tasted like ash in my mouth.

I sat on the edge of the couch holding the glass like it was the only thing could keep me whole. My mind raced with faces, numbers, memories and my mistakes.

"I should have listened," I murmured. "I never should have done it to begin with. I should've separated everything." But I hadn't. I'd believed they were family. I trusted that they wouldn't destroy me, but yet again look at where I was now. I filled another glass, and then another. The room felt fuzzy, but the pain remained sharp.