They Came For My Will, Not Knowing Everything Was Mine Chapter 03

They Came For My Will, Not Knowing Everything Was Mine Chapter 03

The next day, my mother called me out of nowhere. 

“Valeria left a wooden box for you before she died. If you want 

it, come to the Westchester estate. This offer won’t last.” 

I knew it was a trap. I went anyway. 

I couldn’t lose a single thing my grandmother left me. 

In the main hall of the estate, Bianca sat between my 

parents, half her face covered in a bandage. Lorenzo was 

there too. Six armed family guards stood along the wall. 

The second I walked in, my father Adriano grabbed an old 

riding crop from beside the fireplace and lashed me across the shoulder. 

“You dared to hit your sister. Kneel!” 

The blow staggered me, but I didn’t kneel. 

Did Bianca tell you why I hit her?” 

Bianca’s eyes were red. She grabbed my father’s arm. “Dad, she 

just couldn’t accept me living in the Russo house, I’m fine, 

Please don’t hurt her because of me. 

My mother Luciana hugged her. “Look what she did to your 

face, and you’re still defending her! You’ve given in to her 

your whole life, and she wants to destroy you.” 

I laughed. 

My bedroom, my necklace, my parents, my husband–Bianca 

had taken everything. But when my mother told the story. 

somehow Bianca was the one who’d been giving things up. 

“She touched my things, so I hit her.” I said, looking at Bianca. 

Next time, I’ll do it again.” 

My father flew into a rage and raised the crop again. I dodged, 

grabbed the other end, and yanked hard. He nearly fell. Two 

guards rushed me. 

I kicked one of them away and lunged for the wooden box 

behind my mother. The other guard grabbed my shoulder 

from behind and slammed me down onto the table. The 

holster on his hip dug into my ribs. A second later, the cold 

barrel of a gun pressed against my back. 

My injured right hand smashed into the edge of the table. 

Pain exploded up my arm. My vision went black, but I kept reaching. 

Give it to me!” 

My mother opened the box. Inside was the rosary my 

grandmother had used for decades, and the St. Michael 

medal pouch she’d sewn for me by hand. 

The linen fabric was worn thin from years of handling. When 

was little, every time my parents left me home alone, my 

grandmother would press it into my palm and tell me the 

angels and she would both protect me. 

My mother held the pouch over a lit candle. 

“Bow your head and apologize to Bianca. Or I’ll burn it right now.” 

“Don’t you dare!” 

wrenched one hand free and grabbed my mother’s skirt. The guard dragged me back. 

My father kicked the back of my knee. I collapsed onto the cold marble floor. 

“Valeria was my mother. Her things are mine to dispose of. 

You don’t get a say.” 

The crop came down again and again–on my shoulders, my 

back, my arms. The pain spread like fire. 

bit down hard and didn’t lower my head. 

Bianca hid behind Lorenzo and said softly. “Just let her apologize once.” 

Lorenzo finally walked over and crouched in front of me. “It’s 

one apology. Just give in, and you can take the box and leave.” 

He used to hold me when I was too feverish to take my medicine. He’d spend hours coaxing me. 

Now he watched my father beat me until I could barely stand, and all he thought was that I was being stubborn. 

looked up at him. “You want me to apologize to a thief? She doesn’t deserve it. And my grandmother would never allow me to bow to a threat.” 

Lorenzo’s face darkened. He pressed his hand down on my shoulder. “Matilde, don’t be stupid.” 

My father’s crop came down again. Lorenzo held me in place. 

I couldn’t move. 

On the seventh strike, the pouch in my mother’s hand caught fire. 

“No!” 

I shoved Lorenzo aside and lunged for it. I grabbed the burning pouch with my bare hand. The flames bit into my palm. I held it tight and rolled across the carpet until I smothered the fire. 

Bianca stumbled backward in shock and knocked over a 

prayer table. The wooden box fell. The rosary shattered, beads. scattering everywhere. 

ignored the burn on my left hand and dropped to my knees, 

picking up the beads one by one. 

Bianca’s shoe came down on the last bead. She didn’t seem to 

notice. Her toe ground down. 

The bead cracked in half. 

I raised my hand to hit her. 

Lorenzo caught my wrist first and flung me aside. 

I slammed into the stone hearth. It took me a long time to stand. 

My mother threw the charred pouch at me. “Take your trash and get out. Show up on time for the memorial mass. Bianca will officially inherit the Colombo family that day. If you cause trouble, the family’s guns won’t just be aimed at the walls.” 

I gathered the broken rosary and the burned pouch with trembling hands. 

As I passed Bianca, I stopped. 

“I’m keeping a tally of this beating.” 

“You’ll pay it back soon.”