I Was The Mafia’s Maid Now I’m Their Regret Chapter 20
“The Marino Family is willing to cover the full cost of the lab for its first three years.”
The academic counselor pushed an application across the table to me.
“The condition is that the lab be established in the Family’s name, with you serving as their security advisor.”
At the bottom was my father’s signature.
My name appeared in the field for the person in charge, but nowhere on the document was there a place for my signature.
Just like before.
They decided what I would do and assumed I would agree.
The only difference was that before, they thought I had no value. Now, they thought my value should belong to the Family.
“Did the school agree?”
“No.”
The counselor shook his head.
“You already made it clear they have no right to make decisions on your behalf. The project lead wouldn’t accept funding with terms like these attached, anyway.”
I nodded.
“Thank you.”
When I came out of the office, Luca was leaning against the wall, waiting for me.
“Do you need the Bellandis to step in?”
“No.”
I showed him the photo of the service ledger.
“This is my name. I’ll handle it myself.”
He didn’t insist, only asked, “What are you going to do?”
“Ask the school to arrange a formal meeting.”
“I want my father to explain, in person, what gives him the right to represent me.”
Back in the dorm, I took out the admission letter I had taped back together.
The clear tape had started to yellow, and the tears in the paper were still obvious.
Beside it, I placed my Aurelia full-scholarship confirmation and all one hundred and seventy-two of the gold medal certificates I had brought with me.
None of these things had ever needed the Family’s signature.
I arranged them all in chronological order and asked the academic counselor to pull every credit and authorship record from every project I had joined since enrolling.
My name was on every one.
Not a single one said *Marino Family*.
That night, Mom called.
“Cosima, your dad just wants to help you.”
“I didn’t ask for his help.”
“I know.”
She was silent for a moment.
“I already told him that, but he thinks you’re still young and don’t understand how much money an independent lab takes.”
“Then let him come to the meeting.”
“And have him bring the consigliere and the service ledger.”
There was a pause on the other end.
“You’re willing to see him?”
“I’m only willing to make this clear.”
The next afternoon, my father walked into the conference room exactly on time.
The consigliere came in behind him.
The black leather service ledger was tucked under his arm.