The Don’s Daughter Won’t Come Home Again

On the first day of my last summer break from college, my father, Don Marcello Roveri, and my mother, Donna Fiorella Roveri, assigned me another job. “You'll handle banquet reception at the family's club. You'll get intern pay. Don't think being a Roveri means you get to do nothing.” Four years of college. Four times they told me the same thing. The first year, they sent me to the family's food processing plant while they took my younger sister, Adelia, to family banquets in Manhattan, where she sat beside my father, the Don, and received greetings from the other families. The second year, they put me on night shifts in the family's wine cellar while they gave Adelia her own driver and bodyguards so she could attend gatherings hosted by the other families. The third year, they made me an assistant instructor in the hotel's staff training program, then took Adelia aboard the family's yacht to a private party on the Amalfi Coast. So where were they going this year? “Sicily. A family banquet first, then a few days by the sea.” My older brother, Leandro, pushed the door open and came in. After telling the jeweler to send Adelia's necklace upstairs, he turned to me with a smile and handed me a pair of shoes. “I picked these non-slip shoes for you. You'll be on your feet for ten hours at those banquets. You won't get tired wearing these.” “I'll cover the charter flight and the villa out of my share of the port profits. Adelia's still young. She should meet more people from the other families.” Adelia gave him a sweet smile, then squealed and threw herself into his arms. “Leandro, I knew you wouldn't leave me behind.” I looked at my parents. They looked away in unison. No one cared how I felt, even though I was only a year older than Adelia. I suddenly smiled, crouched down, and put on the shoes. They were light. Light enough for me to walk out of this house. ... My mother sat in Adelia's dressing room, watching the maid pack the custom gowns and jewelry into separate cases. She suddenly remembered something and looked up, calling to Leandro. “Leandro, Adelia graduates next year. Make sure there's a seat waiting for her on the board of the family's shipping company.” “Arrange her shares and dividends ahead of time, too. Don't let the other branches of the family think all she does is go to banquets. You—” She stopped midsentence. She seemed to finally remember that another daughter was in the room, one who'd already finished college and was waiting for her diploma. Leandro still hadn't noticed. “Don't worry, Mom. She'll join the family's shipping company when she graduates. Her shares, assistant, driver, and bodyguards are all arranged.” He paused, as if he'd only just remembered I was there, too, and asked casually: “Viola, do you need me to put in a word for you?” “No.” I already had a job with an international freight equipment company that had no ties to the Roveri family. My assignment was in Barcelona. My work permit and contract were ready. Once my diploma arrived in the next few days, I would leave. Leandro murmured ‘Mm’ and said nothing else. My father noticed the awkwardness, set down his wineglass, and smiled to smooth things over for them. “Viola's always been able to take care of herself. We don't need to worry about her.” I paused while tying my shoelaces. I wasn't independent. I just knew that if I didn't do everything myself, no one would help me. Leandro was the eldest, groomed to be the next Don. As soon as he reached adulthood, he received his own share of the port profits and his own bodyguards. He had their affection all to himself for six years. My sister was the youngest, the little princess spoiled by the Don and Donna and protected by the entire family. Then there was me, stuck in the middle, walking past their banquet tables in an apron like a maid no one needed to meet. The estate had chefs, a butler, and maids. My mother still made me do their work. Leandro and Adelia had bodyguards whenever they went out. I could leave through the side door without anyone asking a single question. Adelia put down her cola, ran over, and linked her arm through mine. “Viola, what do you want? I can bring you something from Sicily.” She looked at me, a flicker of discomfort in her eyes. So she knew the family wasn't fair to me. But I knew she'd forget. Every time she went away, she remembered the silk scarves the Donna wanted and the handmade ties the Don liked, and she helped Leandro collect old cameras. Mine were the only things she forgot. That flicker of guilt disappeared almost instantly. I was used to it. I gave her a small smile. “Whatever you think I'd like.” My mother motioned for the maid to put away the last jewelry box, then suddenly smiled at me. “Viola, she's going on vacation, and she's still thinking of you.” “It's her first time hosting a charity gala for the family. You're her older sister. Shouldn't you do something for her?” My father seemed to have been waiting for that. He made the decision for me. “You'll organize this year's charity gala at the club. Adelia's name goes on the invitations and acknowledgments. Let the other families get to know her first.” “You don't have to do that. Viola has her own things to do.” Adelia glanced at me. She said it wasn't necessary, but the corners of her mouth had already turned up. Leandro ruffled her hair. “Don't worry about any of that. Just go with Dad and meet the guests. Viola already knows how to handle this stuff.” Just like that, they left the work to me and gave Adelia the credit. They didn't even ask what I thought. It had been that way my whole life. Last year, after paying the part of my tuition my scholarship didn't cover, I had almost no savings left. My mother kept holding up my request for living expenses. She signed off on Adelia's birthday party bill the day it arrived. I asked Adelia to lend me her card on the family's account, the one with no spending limit. I needed to pay an overdue housing fee the college had sent a final notice about. She agreed. Less than five minutes later, my mother and Leandro both called. “Who gave you permission to use Adelia's account? The family gave that to her. What makes you think you can use it?” “Adelia's account isn't yours to use. If you owe the college money, ask Mom yourself. Keep your hands off Adelia's things.” But I'd messaged my mother an hour earlier, and she pretended not to see it. She answered Adelia's messages immediately. My phone vibrated. I picked up the shoes I'd taken off and went to my bedroom. It was a message from the company. “Your overseas assignment paperwork is complete. Please report to Boston next Monday for the predeparture orientation.” “Understood.” As soon as I sent the reply, someone knocked on my door. Adelia pushed it open and walked straight to my suitcase, with the butler following her. “Viola, I want to pack the rest of my things in your suitcase. Have the butler load it onto the plane with the others.” “No. I need it.” “What do you need it for? Do you need a suitcase to work at the club?” I said nothing. An entire row of suitcases lined her dressing room. She wanted mine because, for as long as I could remember, whatever she wanted, I had to give her. No matter how carefully I looked after it, she always returned it in a mess. Someone looked after her things. No one looked after mine. She went still. Her smile vanished, and she stared at me for a few seconds. When I refused to give in, she turned and slammed the door behind her. I counted silently. “Five, four, three, two... one.” The door burst open again with a bang. “Viola Roveri.” Sure enough, my parents were there, with Leandro behind them.

“Adelia sent the butler for the suitcase, and you made him come back empty-handed?” “The butler and the servants were watching. Did you have to embarrass your sister?” “I need it.” This time, I didn't give in. “Forget it. I'll use my own. Don't fight with Viola over me.” Adelia spoke softly from behind them, her eyes red. My mother held her, while my father soothed her in a low voice. Leandro watched me for a moment, then went to his room. A little later, he came out pulling a sky-blue suitcase. “Adelia, use this one.” My grip tightened on the doorknob. That was the suitcase I'd given Leandro as a gift. Adelia knew that perfectly well. She made a point of looking at me. “But Viola bought that for you. Won't she be upset?” Leandro looked at me without a hint of hesitation. He was doing it on purpose, and he was about to say something. I cut him off. “It's fine. I gave it to him. He can do whatever he wants with it.” The room went quiet for a moment. Leandro turned sharply toward me, his brow furrowing. But he didn't say another word. He led Adelia away. No one called me for dinner. When I came out, they were deep in conversation. “We need to decorate the new estate's banquet hall properly. We'll be inviting the Dons from the other families.” After my mother finished speaking, Leandro joined in. “Dad's study and the security room are taken care of. The reception room on my floor will have a dedicated line to the port office.” Adelia cut off a piece of roast beef and smiled as she joined in. “You can decide on the rest, but my floor has to be the way I want it. The designer's already made the changes I asked for.” My father wasn't part of the discussion. He was cutting his steak. He looked up, saw me, and immediately cleared his throat. Their conversation stopped instantly. So the family had bought a new estate, and I was the only one who didn't know. I sat down and took a forkful of the cold green beans beside me. My throat hurt as I swallowed. My mother exchanged a look with my father, then parted her lips. “Viola, we've saved a room for you in the rear building at the new estate. It's next to the kitchen and laundry room, so you won't have to keep going back and forth while you work. Go take a look when things are quiet at the club.” I swallowed the food. My voice came out rough. “How long ago did you buy it?” “Six months ago. We just never got around to telling you.” I could tell the difference between not having a chance to tell me and not wanting to. I murmured in acknowledgment, then suddenly asked: “What's the gate code?” “09070404.” September seventh. April fourth. Leandro's birthday and Adelia's. I looked up at her and opened my mouth. “Mom, when's my birthday?” My mother froze, as if she didn't understand why I would ask. “What, you need us to tell you your own birthday?” My father smiled, thinking I'd really forgotten. “You were born early, on a snowy winter night. Your mother slipped on the porch and nearly died having you. She's always said you've given her trouble since the day you were born.” My mother coughed, her expression uneasy, and looked away. “Eat. Why bring that up?” I lowered my head, too, but I couldn't stop my hands from shaking. Soon, Leandro and Adelia finished eating, dropped their knives and forks onto their plates, and went back to their rooms. After my father left, my mother got up, too. “Viola, clear these dishes. I already told the maid she isn't allowed to do it for you. You should learn to take care of your own family.” Then she turned and left. The table was piled with leftovers, greasy plates, and a few wineglasses stained with wine. I was always the last to finish eating. When dinner started, I was still in the laundry room or the kitchen, and no one came to get me. My mother sent a servant to get Leandro. My father waited for Adelia to sit down before having the food served. By the time I came out of the laundry room or kitchen, most of the food was gone. When they finished, my mother specifically told the servants to leave the plates for me to wash. So I was always the one who washed them. My grandparents called while I was cleaning the kitchen. “Leandro said you're taking Adelia to a gathering in Sicily?” “Yes, and we'll spend a few days by the sea. Is there anything you'd like us to bring you?” My grandmother laughed and said no. “Isn't Viola going?” My mother answered without a second thought. “No. She says she prefers working behind the scenes, and the family needs her for the banquets.” “That girl...” My grandfather sighed and didn't ask again. That was how my parents always answered throughout my four years of college. “Isn't Viola coming to the family's anniversary banquet?” “No. She hasn't finished her paper for school.” “Isn't Viola going to the ski get-together with you?” “No. She doesn't like sports.” “Why isn't Viola in the family photo?” “She says her skin's been acting up lately. She won't pose for pictures.” ... According to them, I had no social skills, didn't like gatherings or cameras, and only wanted to hide in the kitchen or work at the club. That way, no one would ask why I wasn't there. After all, I was the one who didn't want to come.

The doorbell rang. I put the dishes in the drying rack, wiped the tears from the corner of my eye, and went to answer it. “You have mail that needs a signature.” It was my diploma. I suddenly felt lighter. It meant I could leave. “What came in the mail?” Leandro's voice came from behind me. He held an espresso in one hand, with the other in his pocket, and watched the smile on my face. “My diploma.” He said, “Oh,” and started to turn away, then remembered something. “What do you want for graduation? I remember I promised you a gift.” I froze for a moment. I hadn't expected him to remember. But I'd never let myself expect one. After thinking for a few seconds, I suddenly looked up at him. “Come with me to my physical tomorrow.” The company had arranged a physical before my assignment in Spain, and my appointment at the clinic was confirmed. “That's it?” He looked surprised. I nodded. “That's it.” He gave a casual nod and agreed. The next afternoon, I packed my purse and stood by the door, waiting for him. But when Leandro came out, he looked a little resigned. “Adelia needs to try on her banquet gown. The designer's waiting for her. I'll take her first, then come back and go with you.” “But my physical is already scheduled.” “Call the clinic and reschedule. She flies tomorrow, and she still has to check with the jeweler tonight about which jewelry matches her gown.” I didn't argue any further. Adelia looked at me, her eyes slowly reddening. She pinched the hem of her skirt and said softly: “Forget it, then. I can wear an old dress. Leandro, go with Viola.” Leandro refused without hesitation. “Don't sulk. You're representing the Roveri family. How can you go without a proper dress?” Then, as if he realized just how obvious his favoritism was, he turned the question back on me. “Viola, you don't want her going in the wrong outfit, do you?” He watched me, waiting for the answer that would make everyone happy. All at once, I felt exhausted. They acted as if they were waiting for me to decide. But everyone knew I could only give the answer they wanted. I was quiet for a few seconds, then gave a small smile. “Go with Adelia.” Leandro let out a relieved breath. Adelia ran over and kissed my cheek. “Thank you, Viola.” “You're welcome.” I went to the clinic alone and had my physical. Afterward, I bought a train ticket to Boston for the next day. When I got home, my sister was showing my parents what she'd bought that day. Finally, she brought out the clothes she'd bought for them. My mother gushed, but her smile vanished the moment she noticed me out of the corner of her eye. “Viola, look at Adelia. Even while ordering her gown, she remembered to pick things out for us. When do you ever think about this family instead of yourself?” “With what money?” Adelia used the card on the family's account, the one my mother had given her. The bills for her gowns, jewelry, and gifts went straight to the butler. She spent the family's money. My mother knew that, yet she held Adelia's gifts and scolded a daughter who had to apply for money even to pay her tuition. “Are you blaming me because I wouldn't approve the money you asked for? I make you earn it so you'll learn to work. You're questioning that, too?” My mother hadn't expected me to talk back. She froze for a moment, then her expression darkened. “I'm twenty-four. I'm only a year older than Adelia.” “Enough!” My father snapped at me. “Watch your tone. You don't have the right to question the Donna like that in this family.” Leandro looked at me with a conflicted expression, too. “Viola, why do you keep upsetting everyone lately?” As soon as someone took her side, my mother's eyes reddened. She looked at me, her lips moving, but said nothing more. She just wiped the corner of her eye, turned, and went into her bedroom. As if I'd hurt her so badly she couldn't even speak.