Italian Mafia Princess Returns

Chapter One

Valentina's POV:

When I wake up, I feel that I am soaked with water. When I opened my eyes from my dreamless sleep, I saw none other than the devil herself. My so-called mother.

"you forgot to make us breakfast" she spat at me while pulling me off my mattress by my hair.

I hissed in pain but didn't dare fight back, I'm not stupid I know she is stronger than me. So, I let her drag me towards the stairs her hand still entangled in my hair. I followed behind her whimpering in pain as her grip tightened. She dragged me into the kitchen where my father stood.

"there she is, why is my breakfast not cooked?" he said oddly calm

"I'm sorry sir I must have slept through my alarm, I'm so sor-" but I was cut off by a stinging sensation on my cheek.

"did I tell you to talk" he spat rudely at me.

I quickly lowered my head and shook it no. I was thrown to the floor by my mother, next thing I know I am meet with a strong punch in the face by my father. My mother and father continued to repeatedly punch and kick me in the stomach and the face while I attempted to cover them with my arms. Once they had finished their little torture session they stood up and started to walk away.

"when we get back you will have our food cooked and the house cleaned, understand bitch?" my mother said.

I quickly nodded my head. Once the front door slammed, I fell to the floor and started sobbing. I stood up feeling immense pain in my ribs but choose to ignore it and start cooking and cleaning.

One hour later

There was a soft knock on the door, who could it be I thought to myself it can't be my mother or father because they have keys, but my thoughts were interrupted by another knock at the door. I opened the door to see an officer and a woman around her mid 20s both with pitiful looks on their faces.

"hello are Valentina Costello?" the young woman politely asked

"yes, that would be me, may I ask who you are?" I reply with a polite smile

"well, hello my name is Charlette I'm your social worker, may I come in?" she replied with the same pitiful look plastered on her face.

"yes, you may" I replied opening the door wider and stepping to the side so they could come in.

I walked to the living room with Charlette and the officer trailing close behind me. I sat on the couch with Charlette sitting in front of me and the officer leaning against the wall. After a couple of seconds of awkward silence she began to talk.

"honey there is no easy way to say this, but your foster parents died in a car crash" she said sadness evident in her tone.

I didn't know what to do, I mean I was happy I didn't have to deal with those monsters anymore but where would I go. WAIT A MINUTE DID SHE JUST SAY FOSTER PARENTS?

"did you just say foster parents?" I ask as calmly as I can

"yeah sweetie, they were your foster parents" she said confusion lacing through her voice

"what's going to happen with me now?" I ask quietly

"well, we have successfully found your mother and father, they were more then happy to take you back sweetie, you have a flight in about 2 hours to Italy" she replied

"wait did you just say ITALY" I said excitement lacing through my voice

She chuckled and shook her head

"yes, and the flight leaves in 2 hours so could you go pack as quickly as you can sweetie" she said in amusement

I quickly ran upstairs ignoring the throbbing pain in my ribs. I quickly started packing which may I add was very easy as I only have two hoodies, two leggings, one pair of undies and a bra. Once I was done, I walked downstairs clinging on to the railing as my ribs stung. Once I reach the bottom of the staircase I let go of the railing and put on my best fake smile. I walked into the room where I left Charlette and the police officer, they both stood straight and looked at me.

"you ready honey?" Charlette asked

"as ready as I'll ever be" I replied just above a whisper

She nodded and we walked out of the house I lived for almost my entire childhood. Reality hit me like a bus. Those monsters aren't my real parents, What if my mother and father are worse than my foster mum and dad? what if they don't like me? What if they don't accept me? No stop. As we start driving away I look back at  the house once more. I can't believe I'm actually going to think this but I'm going to miss this place. I mean what if where i'm going now is even worse then here.