My Family Faked Their Deaths, So I Left

My mother and I were getting the estate ready for Thanksgiving dinner when word came that my father and my fiancé, Adrian Marchetti, had died in an explosion at the docks. In an instant, our family feast became our last meal. A bodyguard burst into the house, covered in blood. "The Don and Mr. Marchetti were ambushed by the Ferraro family at the docks. The arms warehouse blew up... there's nothing left of them. They took Matteo Valenti alive!" My blood ran cold. Adrian had told me the Ferraro boss was ruthless. The last time he'd gone after a family, he'd had the men slaughtered and their organs sold, and every woman shipped off to an underground bar and forced into prostitution! The bodyguard pressed a pistol into my hand. "Ms. Valenti, I risked my life to warn you. There are too many of them, and I can't stay. Change your name and leave L.A.!" Without a word, my mother sent Grandma, my sister-in-law Lana, my six-year-old niece Annie, and my aunt Clara down to the basement. Then she took the gun from my hand, pressed it to her temple, and pulled the trigger. Her warm blood splattered across my face. In a single night, my father, my mother, my brother, and the man I loved were all gone! The pain tore me apart. I ran my fingers over my mother's gun. The muzzle still smelled of gunpowder. A second later, the gun went off on its own. A bullet tore through my chest, and my blood soaked the rose brooch Adrian had given me. As tears streamed down my bloodstained face, I heard one of my father's men laughing on the other side of the door. "Wow. The Don and Mr. Marchetti will do anything for Ms. Celeste. She wanted a little holiday prank, and they went all out for her." Grief ripped through me, and I coughed up a mouthful of blood. Chapter 1 My mother and I were getting the estate ready for Thanksgiving dinner when word came that my father and my fiancé, Adrian Marchetti, had been killed. The messenger, one of my father's trusted men, staggered through the door covered in blood. "The Don and Mr. Marchetti were ambushed by the Ferraro family at the docks. The arms warehouse blew up... there's nothing left of either man." He gasped for breath, his voice shaking. "They've taken Matteo alive too. Their men have the estate surrounded, and they'll storm it before dawn!" He had barely finished speaking when heavy gunfire broke out beyond the estate walls. Through the window, I saw a line of black cars blocking both the front and back gates. A few armed men stood guard outside the iron gate. There was no way out. Every guard and every gun on the estate was gone. My mother stood there for a long time, her brow furrowed, holding my father's wedding ring. She had already sent Grandma, Lana, Annie, and Aunt Clara down to the basement to hide. But my mother didn't go down with them. She picked up the pistol the messenger had left and pressed a kiss to the wedding ring. Her eyes were completely dry. "Your father and I have loved each other for 27 years, and we've never spent a Thanksgiving apart. If he really died at those docks, I'm going with him." Then she reached up and stroked my hair. "They won't get a single one of our secrets. "Once I'm dead, the rest of you will be safe. "My baby, get out of L.A. Go live an ordinary life." The second I saw her raise the gun, I lunged for her. But a shot rang out! I was one step too late. My mother fell into my arms, and blood from her temple soaked my hands. Her body was still warm, but her fingers had already slipped out of my hand. I held her tight. It felt as if someone had cut my chest wide open. I pressed down hard on her wound. I knew I couldn't stop the bleeding, but I wouldn't let go. My father was dead. My brother was a prisoner. My mother had died right in front of me, and Adrian was never coming back. I gritted my teeth and took the gun from her hand. It was the only weapon we had left. But the moment my fingers touched the grip, something inside the gun gave a soft click. A second later, the gun went off, and a bullet tore through my chest. Blood gushed out and soaked the rose brooch pinned over my heart. It was a 19th-century ruby brooch Adrian had won at a Sotheby's auction in London. To get it, he'd skipped a Marchetti family meeting and gone to the auction himself, bidding until the very end. He flew back to L.A. that same night and pinned it over my heart in the rose greenhouse where we'd first met. "Serena Valenti, I don't want this to be just an arranged marriage. I want to marry you because I love you." I threw my arms around him and answered without hesitation. "Adrian, I love you too." I'd never once doubted how he felt about me. So when I heard he'd died at the docks, I seriously considered dying with him if I couldn't escape. The smell of smoke drifted up from the basement. Then a woman's scream tore down the hallway. "Fire! "Open the door! Open it now!" Pressing a hand to my bleeding chest, I dragged myself toward the back door. It was the only exit the enemy wasn't covering. But I'd only made it to the living room door when I heard laughter through the crack. "The Don and Mr. Marchetti really spoil Ms. Celeste. She wanted to pull a prank, so they staged fake deaths, a kidnapping, and a siege on the estate. It's so convincing, it's like watching a Broadway show!" Another guard laughed and poured himself a drink. "When they come back tomorrow morning, they'll tell the Donna it was all a joke. Back from the dead, and a happy ending for everyone!" I stared at the door. So my father wasn't dead. Adrian wasn't dead. And the Ferraro family had never taken my brother. The whole night had been a game my adopted sister, Celeste Valenti, staged for her own amusement. I slammed my fist against the door and screamed with the last of my strength. "Open the door! "The basement's on fire! Grandma and Annie are still down there!" For a moment, everything went quiet outside. One of the guards hesitated. "Sounds like someone's yelling for help in there. Should we open it and check?" The other one stopped him right away. "Ms. Celeste said we don't open the door, no matter what we hear. If you go in and ruin her fun, how will you explain it to the Don and Mr. Marchetti tomorrow?" "But there's a six-year-old kid in there." "What could happen to a few women? Keep drinking." Whiskey splashed into glasses. Poker chips clattered onto the table. "Your turn. You in?" "I'm in. All in." They went back to their drinks and their Texas Hold'em. Not one of them came to the door again. I pounded on the door again and again until my knuckles were bloody. "This isn't a joke! The basement is really on fire! "Open the door!" All I could hear outside was the shuffle of cards. The screams from the basement grew faint. And then they stopped. Grandma, Lana, six-year-old Annie, and Aunt Clara were all down there. Grandma had bad legs and could barely manage the stairs. Lana would have held Annie tight, the way she always did when something frightened them. Only an hour earlier, Annie had hugged my leg and asked when her daddy would be home. She said she was saving him the biggest slice of pumpkin pie. Aunt Clara had only just opened the first bottle of the red wine she'd brought. She'd laughed and said no one could talk business tonight. The whole family had to sit down and finish this meal together. Had they burned to death? Or had they suffocated before the flames reached them? I couldn't let myself think about it. I looked back at my mother. She lay in a pool of blood, her eyes still open. Tonight, we should have all been together for Thanksgiving. I wanted to crawl back to my mother and close her eyes. I reached out, but my hand fell to the floor before I could touch her. I wasn't afraid to die. I hated that we'd been caught in a death trap we never should have faced. In the end, just like my mother, I breathed my last with my eyes still open. Chapter 2 My soul drifted out of the estate and into the Caesar Hotel on the edge of the city. In a private suite on the top floor, my father, my brother Matteo, Adrian, and Celeste were popping champagne. Adrian was already the Marchetti family's chosen heir. In three months, we were supposed to marry in front of both families. Celeste swirled her drink and smiled innocently. "Dad, Matteo, Adrian, you really went all out for me. When my sister finds out, do you think she'll ever speak to me again?" My father sighed. "Your father died in that ambush saving us. I promised him I'd never let anyone hurt you as long as you lived. Serena knows the whole story. She won't really blame you." Matteo chimed in. "If Uncle Sal hadn't pulled me out of that car back then, I'd be dead. You wanted a fun Thanksgiving, so we'll go along with it this once." During that same ambush 12 years earlier, the Ferraro family kidnapped me, and I spent years cut off from my family. Celeste's father was shot several times while covering my father, Matteo, and Adrian as they escaped. Before he died, he left his seven-year-old daughter in my family's care. They'd lost me, and they owed her father three lives. After they brought me home, every time they did one thing for me, they rushed to do ten for Celeste, terrified of breaking their promise to a dead man. When I first came home, my father gave me a building. Then he turned around and bought Celeste half a block of storefronts. If Matteo took me to the shooting range once, he had to take her to dinner first. After Adrian publicly chose me as his fiancée, she slit her wrists. The cuts weren't deep, but they were enough to keep the three men who owed their lives to her father at her hospital bedside all night. It wasn't that they didn't love me. Whenever Celeste felt insecure, they acted as though her dead father had come back to collect what they owed him. Celeste turned to Adrian. "They owe my dad. You don't. So why are you helping me too?" Adrian glanced at her. "I was in that car too." Then he looked down at his phone. On the screen was the last message I'd sent him that afternoon. "I picked out the carrots you won't eat. Come home early. Don't make me handle Thanksgiving dinner with the family alone." His thumb rested on those words for a long time. "After this, there won't be a next time." Adrian looked up. "Serena spent years away from her family before she came home. What she hates most is someone scaring her with the thought of losing her family. Tomorrow, you're going to apologize to her in person. "And stop saying she's tough and can handle anything. Surviving the Ferraro family doesn't mean she deserves to suffer more than anyone else." Celeste's fingers tightened, and the rim of her glass gave a small clink. She pouted. "Fine. You only have eyes for my sister anyway." Suddenly she took a ruby rose brooch out of her clutch and pinned it to the collar of her dress. I looked down at my own blood-soaked chest. They were identical. Adrian had won that brooch at auction in England and pinned it on me himself when he proposed. He'd said he would only ever give it to his wife. Celeste smiled. "My sister still thinks she has the real one. How long before she figures out you lent it to me?" Adrian reached over, took the brooch off her collar, and put it back in its box. His expression darkened. "I only said you could wear it for one night. Don't use it to get to Serena. "Hers is a copy I had made. I'll switch them back before the wedding. If she knew I'd let someone else wear the real brooch, it would hurt her." I watched him lock the box, and it did nothing to warm me. He knew it would hurt me. He was just sure he'd have time to make it up to me later. At our engagement party three months earlier, someone had used my kidnapping to humiliate me. Adrian crippled the man's hand right then and there and announced to everyone, "Anyone who won't accept Serena Valenti doesn't set foot in the Marchetti house." That night he'd promised I would never face danger alone again. And now he'd left me all alone. Celeste's eyes lit up with an idea. "Then at Christmas, you could pretend to call off the engagement with my sister. Once she cries, you propose all over again." Adrian's face hardened at once. "No. You don't joke about an engagement." Celeste tugged at his sleeve. "Just for one day. It's not like I'd actually let my sister leave." My father and Matteo joined in, saying that once I knew the truth, I'd sulk for a few days at most. Adrian stared at my message on his phone and said nothing for a long time. In the end, he gave in. "One day only. Keep a close eye on her. Don't let her really break off the engagement, and don't let her leave L.A." They all burst out laughing. I stood next to Adrian and reached for his face. My fingers passed right through. "Adrian, there won't be a next time." Chapter 3 After a few rounds of drinks, Adrian picked up his phone for the third time. "Something's wrong." He stood up. "If Serena can't reach me, she won't just sit around and wait. So why hasn't anyone from the estate called?" My father said, "They did call. Celeste said the show had to look real, so I had the calls cut off. Relax. I told the men at the door to go in right away if they heard anything strange." Matteo couldn't sit still either. "Annie's scared of the dark, and Lana will do anything to protect her. I'm going back to check." Celeste's eyes welled up at once. "Matteo, you all promised you'd spend Thanksgiving with me. Now that my sister's back, I don't even get that much anymore?" She took out an old, yellowed photo. In it, her father stood beside the bombed-out car, shielding a young Matteo and Adrian. Matteo stopped where he was. The life debt was like a rope. All Celeste had to do was give it a little tug, and none of them could leave. Adrian didn't sit back down. He tried calling Nico, his right-hand man, to send him straight to the estate. He wanted Nico to see for himself that I was safe and call him back. The phone rang and rang. No one picked up. Adrian's expression changed. But Celeste walked over with her drink. "You're the one who had your guys install the signal jammer. Didn't we agree the estate would be cut off tonight?" Adrian stared at her. "The jammer only covers the inside of the estate. It shouldn't affect the guards on the outside." Celeste's smile froze for a second. Then she dropped her head, looking hurt. "Maybe they went for a drink." My father patted Adrian on the shoulder. "Sunrise is two hours away. If we go back now, they'll hear the cars, and the whole show will be ruined. All Celeste's father asked before he died was that I keep her happy for the rest of her life. I can't refuse her this one holiday wish." Adrian finally sat back down, but he didn't touch another drink. Matteo texted his wife. "Lana, if Annie gets scared and starts crying, calm her down for me. I'll be home by sunrise." The message never went through. He sent a voice message too, promising that next Thanksgiving he wouldn't go anywhere. He'd stay home with his wife and daughter. A red Not Delivered warning appeared on his screen. He stared at it for a few seconds, then set his phone facedown. Even my father asked once, "How's your mother's heart been lately?" Celeste hooked her arm through his right away. "The doctors all say she's fine. Dad, why is everyone so distracted? Is it really that hard to have one dinner with me?" My father didn't ask again. It wasn't that they'd never once thought about going back. It was that every single time, at the last minute, they chose to stay. Celeste said she needed to fix her makeup and went into the restroom. I drifted in after her. She didn't fix her makeup. Instead, she pulled out a second phone and sent a voice message. "No matter what happens at the estate, whether it's crying, banging on the door, or even gunshots, no one opens that door. If anyone lets them out, I'll have Dad chop off his hands." The person on the other end asked, "What if something really happens in there?" Celeste looked into the mirror and slowly touched up her lipstick. "What could happen to a few pampered women?" She deleted the voice message and strolled back into the suite like nothing had happened. Finally, I understood. The guards hadn't stayed outside because they'd forgotten my father's orders. Celeste had already passed along new ones. She wanted everyone to stand guard until dawn. No one was allowed to end this game early. Glasses clinked again in the suite. My father, Matteo, and Adrian all said that when they got back in the morning, they'd make it up to us properly. But the women at the estate would never see the sunrise.