The Viper Donna：Stepmother’s Mafia Justice Chapter 02
The Rot in the Mansion
The heels belonged to Elena Moretti.
She appeared at the end of the hallway with the calm confidence of a woman who had controlled this house for years.
Blonde. Sharp cheekbones. Dressed head-to-toe in Chanel at eleven p.m. on a Tuesday.
Dominic’s sister-in-law. His dead brother’s widow. The woman who had run this house for years.
She looked me up and down with open disgust.
“So,” she said. “You’re the replacement.”
Behind me, Mia pressed closer to my leg. Leo had not moved from the hallway.
Elena looked at Mia, and her smile thinned.
“Kids. It’s past your bedtime.”
Neither child moved.
Elena’s smile tightened. She stepped forward, grabbed Mia’s arm, and pinched hard.
Mia flinched, her whole body going rigid, but she didn’t make a sound.
She had clearly learned not to cry.
My hand shot out and caught Elena’s wrist.
I didn’t squeeze. The grip alone made her freeze.
“Don’t,” I said.
Elena yanked her hand back. “Excuse me?”
“She’s shy. It’s her first time meeting me. There’s no reason to hurt her.”
“I didn’t hurt her. You’re seeing things.” Elena’s voice stayed smooth, but her jaw was tight. She looked down at Mia. “Tell her, sweetheart. Did I hurt you?”
Mia shook her head fast. Too fast.
I remembered that.
“It’s late,” Elena said, turning on her heel. “I have guests to attend to. The children can show you around tomorrow. If you need anything, ask the staff.”
She walked away without looking back.
I stood there in that dark hallway with two children I’d known for less than five minutes.
Mia was still gripping my sleeve. Leo still hadn’t said a word.
I crouched down. “Let me see your faces. Both of you.”
Mia looked up first. Round cheeks, but too thin. Dark circles under her eyes that no five-year-old should have.
Leo took longer. When he finally raised his head, I saw it—a fading bruise along his jaw, half-hidden by his hair.
I touched their cheeks, one then the other. Soft. Small. Breakable.
“Listen to me,” I said. “Both of you. If anyone in this house hurts you—anyone—you tell me. Not tomorrow. Not later. Right then. Understand?”
Mia nodded. Her eyes were wet.
Leo stared at me, waiting for the lie.
I didn’t blame him. Every adult in his life had already failed him.
The next morning, I learned the full picture. The estate had three wings.
Elena controlled the west wing, Nonna Moretti was the family matriarch. She occupied the east.
Dominic’s children had been shoved into two small rooms in the back, near the service entrance.
Elena had a nine-year-old son named Marco.
The family spoiled him and called him their golden boy.
The staff worshipped him. Leo and Mia avoided him at all costs.
The staff avoided me too.
They took orders from Elena. They’d been taking orders from Elena for years.
That evening, I found Leo’s room. Bare walls. A mattress on the floor. One thin blanket.
This was the richest mafia estate in New York.
I opened every closet in that wing. Empty.
The children had three outfits each. All too small. All worn through.
I closed the last closet door, and my hands went cold.
This house was going to change. And everyone in it would learn my name.
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