Chapter 2 Natalie's POV

And that was how I was forced to live with my stepmother. Mrs. Laura. Living under the same roof with her and Anna was nothing short of hell. I was no longer a daughter. No longer a human being. I had become the maid of the house. I did the laundry, scrubbed the toilets, mopped the floors. I washed the dishes, dishes I never ate from. Every time I reached for food, Anna would slap my hand away like I was some hungry stray. "Did you buy this food?" she'd sneer.

"You think we're running a charity here?" Sometimes I'd just stand there and stare at the plate, hoping maybe, just maybe, they'd soften. But all I got was mockery. "You're even too ugly to pity," Mrs. Laura would say, barely glancing at me. At night, my stomach growled so loud I feared it would wake them. But hunger was kinder than their company. Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and months into years. I slept in a cramped storeroom beside the leaking pipes. The mattress was flat, the air damp and musty. No one asked if I was okay. No one cared if I was still bleeding on the inside. I cried myself to sleep, silently. But tears do nothing. I learned that quickly. I was forced to start fending for myself at a young age. At just sixteen, I got a job as a secretary in a small café down the street. The owner was kind, probably the only human who didn't look at me like trash. But of course, Mrs. Laura ruined that too. Since the day I got my first paycheck, she's been collecting my salary like it was hers. "All your needs are being met in this house," she would say with a smirk, snatching the envelope from my hand. "The least you can do is contribute." Contribute. That's what she called funding her endless supply of lipstick, fake lashes, and designer shoes. Meanwhile, I wore secondhand clothes that barely fit. She spent my sweat and tears on herself... just to spite me. Every time I protested, she reminded me. "Don't forget you're an orphan because of your own wickedness," she'd whisper coldly. "If your parents hadn't been hiding a snake like you, maybe they'd still be alive." Those words haunted me more than the blood I saw that night. She never failed to remind me that I was alone. That I had no one. That I was the cursed child who brought death to her own family. I got to work today and, as usual, the café was buzzing. Customers poured in like the whole world suddenly developed an unquenchable thirst for coffee. I barely had time to breathe, let alone think. My feet ached, my throat felt dry from fake smiles and repeating the same lines over and over again. Finally, the crowd began to thin. The line disappeared. For the first time in hours, I allowed myself a small sigh of relief. But the peace didn't last. The front door chimed again. A couple walked in. They weren't dressed like regulars, the woman wore a designer gown, and her necklace is real gold. I can identify real gold if I see one. The man wore an expensive suit to complement. Their eyes scanned the room like they were calculating every exit. I swallowed and put on my best customer service voice. "Good evening. What can I offer you?" I asked, trying to sound sweet, even though my palms were starting to sweat. "Get us two cups of creamy coffee," the woman said, her voice smooth and commanding. "I don't need cream in mine. Just get me black coffee," the man added, his tone cool and detached. I nodded with a practiced, fake smile and walked away, pretending not to notice the way they spoke like they owned the world. A few minutes later, I returned with their drinks, balancing the tray as my mind wandered. But as I reached their table, something the woman said made me freeze in place for just a second. "I was thinking of sending our daughter to join the Inferno Syndicate. I heard they're recruiting new members." Inferno Syndicate. I nearly dropped the cups. "Well, your choice," the man replied calmly. "Do you even know where the gang is?" he asked, stirring his drink. "Yes, of course. Via del Fuoco 43, Hills of Palermo, Sicily." I blinked, fighting to keep my expression neutral as I placed their coffee on the table like I hadn't just overheard something that could change my entire life. Via del Fuoco 43. Hills of Palermo. Sicily. I repeated it in my head like a sacred chant, burning it into memory. Then I returned to my counter, calm on the outside, but inside, everything had shifted. Maybe... just maybe, the chance to finally avenge my parents' death is here. The couple finished their drinks, dropped a generous tip, and left without another word. Time slipped by, and soon it was closing hour. I dreaded this part of the day, not because of fatigue, but because it meant returning to that place I was forced to call home. For the past nineteen years, every closing hour marked the beginning of my nightly nightmare. Bullying. Accusations. Hatred. But I couldn't sleep in the café, could I? I flagged down a cab, whispered my address, and let my head rest against the window. My stomach twisted the closer we got. When we reached the gate, I paid quickly, and the cab zoomed off, leaving me standing in the thick darkness. My heart sank as I pushed the gate open and walked in. Just as I expected, Anna and her mother were sprawled on the couch, watching one of their endless K-dramas. "The witch is back," Anna muttered with a smirk. Mrs. Laura turned. "Why are you just coming back, Natalie?" "I just closed, ma," I replied, forcing calm into my voice. "You lying bitch," she snapped, rising to her feet. "You just closed? Or were you out planning my death too, just like you planned your parents' murder?" Her words stabbed deep. No matter how many times she said it, every mention of my parents still cracked something inside me. My throat tightened, but I blinked away the tears. I won't cry. Not in front of them. Not anymore. "Get out of my sight," she spat. I didn't argue. I just walked to my room, not even bothering to check for food. I knew there'd be none. Once inside, I shut the door and finally exhaled. My room was the only place that offered even a sliver of comfort in this house. I changed into something casual and sat on my bed. Tonight... was different. Tonight, I was leaving. I'm done being a victim. That address... the Inferno Syndicate. It might be a death sentence, or my only hope at justice. I waited, counting the minutes, until the house fell into silence. Once I was sure they had gone to bed, I stood. Calm. Focused. Determined. I grabbed my backpack and packed what little I had, some underwear, toiletries, a few clothes. I tucked my savings deep into the side pocket. Then I locked my wardrobe. I knew Anna. She'd ransack my things the moment she found out I was gone. I took one last look around the room. One last look at the life I was about to leave behind. Then I slipped out the door and down the stairs, careful not to make a sound. The moment I stepped outside, I felt it. Freedom. Uncertainty. But also... purpose. I stood at the entrance of the compound and looked back at the house. "I'm going to learn the skills I need to avenge my parents," I whispered. "And when I'm done... I'll return and make you both pay for every single wound you've inflicted." With my heart pounding and vengeance burning in my veins, I turned and walked into the night.