The Mafia’s Lost Daughter Came Home. Then She Tore the Family Apart. Chapter 08
Three days into the Morettis’ forced starvation, Donna Moretti’s health finally snapped.
She lay in bed, too weak to speak, surviving on nothing but broth.
Enzo and Marco spent their days begging for loans, only to have every door slammed in their faces.
The same socialites who used to flatter them wouldn’t even pick up the phone.
Chiara walked into Donna Moretti’s room, carrying a bowl of steaming chicken broth.
“Mommy, I made this for you. Drink it, please. You need your strength.”
Her voice was as cloyingly sweet as ever, but her eyes were cold as flint.
I stood in the shadows outside the door, watching.
There it was. A cornered animal finally baring its teeth.
Chiara’s plan was crude, but viciously effective. Poison in the bowl.
The moment Donna Moretti died, she’d pin the whole thing on me.
I’d be the matricidal daughter. There’s no coming back from that.
Meanwhile, Chiara would play the grieving victim, milk the brothers’ sympathy, and disappear with the life insurance payout.
Donna Moretti looked at her, moved by the gesture. She struggled to sit up. “My Chiara… You’re so devoted. I didn’t raise you for nothing.”
She reached out with a trembling hand, lifted the bowl, and brought it to her lips.
I kicked the door open.
In three strides, I crossed the room, ripped the bowl from her hands, and smashed it on the floor.
A sharp, chemical stench immediately filled the air.
The soup hissed where it hit the hardwood, tiny white bubbles corroding the finish.
“What are you doing!” Donna Moretti shrieked. “Reese, are you trying to kill me?”
Chiara dropped to her knees, sobbing hysterically.
“Sister, why? Why won’t you let Mom eat? Was ruining us not enough? Do you have to murder her too?”
Enzo and Marco came charging in at the noise. Seeing the mess and Chiara in tears, they lost it.
“You’ve completely lost your mind, Reese! This is insane, even for you!”
I ignored the screaming and pulled out my phone. “You all love a good performance. Let me show you a real one.”
I hit play and turned the screen toward them.
On the video, Chiara was tucked in a corner of the kitchen.
She checked twice to ensure she was alone, then pulled a paper sachet from her dress and emptied the powder into the pot.
She kept pouring, muttering under her breath, her face twisted in a sneer.
“Old bat. Useless… can’t even keep one brat in line. Once you’re dead, I’ll take the insurance money and vanish.”
The audio rang through the room, crystal clear.
Dead silence.
Donna Moretti’s eyes went wide, locked on the screen. A wet, choking sound came from her throat as she struggled to breathe.
Enzo and Marco stood frozen, struck dumb.
This was the sister they had coddled. The one they had never raised a hand against.
Their “innocent” little girl.
This was the person they were willing to hurt their own flesh and blood for.
“No… that’s a fake! It’s a deepfake! Reese made it!”
Chiara lunged for the phone, looking half-feral.
But before she could get close, I sent her sprawling with a well-placed kick.
I looked down at her.
“The wrapper from that poison is still under your mattress. Want me to call the police and let forensics have a look?”
Donna Moretti coughed up a fleck of blood, her shaking finger pointing at Chiara.
“You… you monster.”