The Viper Donna：Stepmother’s Mafia Justice Chapter 03
The First Strike
I came downstairs at seven.
The dining room was all dark wood and crystal.
Elena sat at the head of the table in a silk blouse, fresh blowout, diamonds on her fingers at seven in the goddamn morning.
Nonna sat to her right, sipping espresso, watching me with sharp little eyes.
A plate was already set at my place. I looked down.
A single piece of bread. Stale. Slightly green at the edges.
Elena had eggs, fruit, and a silver dish of caviar.
Nonna had eggs, fruit, fresh bread, and cheese.
I pulled out my chair. Sat down. Looked at my moldy bread.
“Oh,” Elena said, not even glancing up. “The kitchen wasn’t sure what you liked, so they kept it simple. I hope that’s alright?”
She smiled. Nonna smiled.
The staff lined up against the wall didn’t smile. They knew exactly what this was.
I picked up the bread. Studied it. Set it back down.
“You know what, Elena? You’re right. I should eat what the house provides.”
I stood up, walked to her end of the table, and picked up the silver dish of caviar.
She blinked. “What are you—”
I flipped it. Straight down onto her blouse. Caviar slid over five thousand dollars’ worth of Italian silk.
Elena screamed.
Nonna’s espresso cup hit the saucer with a crack.
The staff flattened against the wall.
I leaned in close. My voice low enough that only she could hear.
“Let me make something very clear. In this house, if I eat garbage, you eat worse. If my children go hungry, your son starves. If you ever, ever pull something like this again, I will make your life so miserable you’ll beg Dominic to throw you out on the street.”
Elena opened her mouth, but nothing came out.
I straightened up. Smoothed my hair. Turned to the kitchen staff.
“Remake breakfast. For everyone. And from now on, the children eat first. Before anyone else in this house touches food. Am I clear?”
No one answered.
“AM I CLEAR?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Three voices at once.
I walked back to my seat, sat down, and folded my hands in my lap.
Nonna stared at me, stunned and furious. Elena sat there dripping caviar, shaking with rage.
Neither of them said another word.
Twenty minutes later, fresh plates appeared. Eggs, toast, fruit, juice—set in front of Leo and Mia first.
The children ate quietly, glancing at me every few seconds as if the food might be taken away.
It would not be taken away. Not anymore.
After breakfast, I went back to my room. Changed clothes. Sat on the bed for one minute.
Then I started planning.
Elena thought this morning was the worst of it. She thought I’d made my point and now I’d settle down, fall in line, learn my place.
She had no idea.
Because that night, I would hear something behind Leo’s door that would change the war completely.
—