The Real Mafia Heiress Chapter 02
What was supposed to be a short visit turned into an unshakable weekly routine.
Every Friday evening sharp, Lilith showed up at the
estate, only leaving first thing Monday morning.
At first, she only wandered the living room snapping
photos to post on Instagram, bragging to her
classmates that she lived inside the Moretti family’s
luxury villa. I could tolerate that–everyone wants to show off a little to their peers.
What I couldn’t stand was the unmasked revulsion and
disgust in her stares whenever she looked at me, as if I owed her a mountain of cash.
Several times, while I sat on the couch sorting through
business documents, she’d clamp a hand over her nose
and complain loud enough for the whole room to hear.
“Ugh, this is unbearable. How can such a fancy villa reek of poverty?”
I’d genuinely thought she’d caught some unpleasant
odor and told Mrs. Bennett to deep clean the entire main residence.
Lilith only grew more dramatic after that.
She’d douse every spot I sat on with disinfectant spray, lay disposable seat covers over the couch for me to sit
on, and on multiple occasions tossed items I’d used straight into the trash.
Whenever I confronted her about it, Mrs. Bennett
would pull me aside with an awkward grin to smooth things over.
“Miss, Lilith’s just obsessive about sanitation–she’s
terrified germs might put your health at risk. I spoiled
her rotten as a kid, so she’s far too particular about cleanliness.”
I’d brushed it off back then. Between university classes
and overseeing the Moretti family’s operations-
balancing ledgers, reviewing contracts, resolving
minor territorial disputes–my schedule was
stretched thin, leaving me with no bandwidth to deal with her petty antics.
It wasn’t until that afternoon, staring at the hateful
note taped to my front door, that everything clicked
into place: Lilith truly believed I was the one crashing at her house.
I’d fully intended to hit Mrs. Bennett and her daughter
with consequences, but she kept begging me right in
front of my face. “Miss, I swear nothing like this will ever happen again.”
“I’ll sit Lilith down today and tell her the whole truth,
no more secret visits after this. I beg you, remember
all those years I cared for Don and Donna Moretti forgive me just this once.”
Watching her crumple into a miserable heap, I sighed and relented. “Fine. I won’t press charges.”
Once Torres and the security guards drove off, Mrs. Bennett exhaled a huge breath of relief, showering me
with nonstop gratitude, her attitude sickeningly deferential.
Lilith never set foot in the main villa again after that
day, and Mrs. Bennett kept up her diligent housework, keeping the estate spotless.
The only issue was the steady stream of belongings vanishing from the property.
One day a vintage bottle of my father’s wine vanished
without a trace; the next, an entire set of fine china
disappeared; a few days later, a custom couture gown left behind by my mother went missing.
Every time I questioned her, Mrs. Bennett had a ready excuse.
“Miss, I’m so sorry about the wine. I knocked it off the
rack while cleaning the cellar and it shattered.”
“That china set had hidden cracks I spotted mid–wash
-I was afraid the edges would cut you, so I had it disposed of right away.”
“The dress was sent out to the dry cleaner, but they lost the shipment entirely.”
Each excuse sounded flimsy at best, yet I’d let it slide, softened by her earnest demeanor.
I’d thought that was the end of the trouble–until All Souls‘ Day.
After paying my respects to my parents at the family
mausoleum, I decided to head out to their countryside villa to tend to the property.
It was their favorite retreat, the oldest private estate owned by the Moretti bloodline.
The yard bloomed with white roses, my mother’s most
cherished flower, and every room lined with souvenirs
my father had brought home from every corner of the globe.
None of the pieces held astronomical price tags, but
each one had been handpicked and arranged by them together.
Before she passed, Mom had squeezed my hand and told me that villa represented every ounce of blood,
sweat, and love she and Dad had poured into their
lives. She’d begged me to care for it well.
I cherished that estate more than anything. Even after
moving out to avoid drowning in grief, I visited
regularly to polish every piece of furniture, trim the
garden blooms, and run full security sweeps to ensure
no strangers wandered onto the grounds.
This time, though, I froze the second I reached the iron front gate.
The usually locked barrier stood wide open, with cheap
neon fairy lights draped carelessly over the carved
family crest above the archway. Blaring music and
raucous laughter drifted out from inside the house.
My expression hardened completely as I pushed the ajar gate open and stepped inside.
The scene before me left me utterly stunned.