Pregnant by the Mafia Boss

2

L I L I A N A

My personal driver stopped the SUV in front of Isabella's ballet studio, a place where she practiced for her international ballet performances.

She was known worldwide for her performances in iconic productions like Swan Lake, Nutcracker, and The Sleeping Beauty.

Isabella was a favorite among ballet fans. She was praised for her natural talent on stage, which was similar to a rare diamond in the world of ballet.

Not only that, she was a beauty, but too bad that she was rotten inside.

My bodyguard escorted me out of the car, and I exhaled in relief because there was no paparazzi in sight.

I stepped out, I shielded my eyes with dark sunglasses, putting on a pink coat over my shoulders.

I ordered my bodyguard to wait outside, since I knew an argument would break out between me and Isabella, which was a common thing.

I entered the studio, which belonged entirely to my sister and served as her safe haven, while I was blown away by its calm atmosphere.

However, the studio also served as a physical reminder of Marcello's affection for Isabella, despite the fact that she was engaged to his younger brother, Nino. 

He still gifted Isabella the studio on her 22nd birthday, which was on the Upper East Side in Manhattan.

I still remember that day because we share the same birthdays, Isabella and I were born on the 5th October.

That day, he had gifted Isabella the ballet studio, but he had forgotten about me, so I got no gift.

I ignored my thoughts, following the sound of music coming from one of the doors along the empty corridor. 

I followed along the melody, and found myself in a spacious white room with high ceilings while a huge mirror covered one wall.

Isabella was caught up in her practice, dancing with effortless grace at the center of the room, dressed in her ballet attire.

She was unaware of my arrival, as she was lost in her own world.

Isabella's honey blonde hair gleamed in the sunlight, her blue eyes shining with focus and dedication to her practice. 

She had chosen to become a ballerina, but my mother forced me to be a model. 

At the time, I thought my mother would be proud of me, but she was always disappointed, she never once praised me, but always praised Isabella. 

But to my luck, I ended up falling in love with my career as I cut off my mother from my career path.

As I grew older, I realized that there was no point in trying to be the perfect daughter because I would never have that title.

I could never be Isabella Bianchi, I could never be a person that my parents love, and I was never the person Marcello Russo would love. 

My gaze turned to the huge mirror, and I watched my reflection, ignoring my sister for a moment.

My long dirty blonde hair fell down my back in shiny waves. My eyes are a mesmerizing shade of green, flecked with hints of brown, while my skin is flawless and glowing. 

I know that I'm beautiful, but when you are told by your own parents that you are the most disgusting thing in their life, your self-esteem falls apart. 

I took a deep breath while my gaze drifted from the mirror, and back to my sister. 

"Isabella." I called out for her, but she was still lost in her own little world.

"Isabella!" I yelled.

She almost stumbles over her steps, but she regains her balance and goes to pause the music on the Bluetooth speaker.

Once she stops the music, she wears a confused expression at the sight of me, but the look of confusion changes once she sees the scowl on my face.

"Why are you here?" she asked, heading toward a nearby bench and picking up a water bottle.

My arms were still crossed, as I checked the time on my wristwatch. "It's nine in the morning. You have five hours to prepare for the wedding, whether you like it or not."

My words seemed to fall on deaf ears as Isabella finished her drink.

"You have made your bed, Isabella. Now you must lie in it," I continued, my tone unwavering.

She was at ease while she met my gaze with a smile. "I don't want to."

This bitch-

"Why not? You don't appear to be suffering like our mother told me," I commented.

I looked up and down, from head to toe. Her demeanor seemed more cheerful rather than a person who was suffering.

"Why should I be suffering? My long awaited revenge is finally going to take place in five hours, when you will walk down the aisle and marry Marcello Russo. The man who's in love with me," she confesses.

"What are you talking about?" I blurted out because I had no time for her drama.

"Poor Liliana, who did not notice her younger sister taking revenge..." She chuckled as the laugh echoed inside the spacious room.

"What revenge? Leave the revenge for the little children because what did I even do to you?" I questioned.

But I knew that Isabella was always insecure since she was the illegitimate daughter, born out of wedlock.

"Three years ago, I found out that you have loved Marcello Russo for a very long time, and this was my opportunity to get revenge because a broken heart can kill you, Lily."

"What are you saying, Isabella?"

"I made Nino fall in love with me in order to get closer to his older brother, Marcello. Then I stole Marcello's heart from you, or rather, he jumped into my arms without having to put much effort. I made him fall deeply in love with me over the past three years, I consumed his heart and soul, as there would be nothing left for you when you and him married." She explained in utter amusement.

"We had an ongoing affair for the past year because he resisted my charm in the beginning."

"Nino knew about my intentions with his older brother. He didn't care because he only wanted me to stay by his side even if I was fucking his older brother." She answered with a laugh. 

"I love my life," she expresses her feelings.

"I would have killed myself If I was in your place, Liliana." Her smirk provoked my anger. 

"What is wrong with you?" I spoke, stunned yet not entirely surprised by her viciousness.

"What do you have against me?" I pressed, noticing a shift in her expression, which was a bitter resentment toward me.

"If only you weren't born. If only I was the oldest daughter in the famiglia," she muttered under her breath, her words dripping with hate.

Isabella and I were born at the same place and the same day, we are only ten minutes apart.

My father's mistress gave birth to Isabella, and my mother, who was his wife, gave birth to me.

Isabella and I were born of different mothers on the same day, complicating our family dynamics.

That's why my mother holds resentment toward me. She wishes that she had given birth to Isabella since father seemed to love her a lot even if she's an illegitimate child.

But mother knows the reason why father holds a lot of love for Isabella because he was in love with Isabella's mother.

"Soon you will understand how I feel as the illegitimate daughter once you marry Marcello. A man who's in love with me and has no place in his heart for you, which will always leave you as the second choice." Isabella giggled while turning away from me.

"And Liliana, Father won't take your side, so don't try to go to him. He has never once helped you, nobody will help you," she added slyly, before heading into her changing room.