The Family We Never Chose
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- Parts 24
At sixteen, Seher Gupta-Rossi has her life carefully planned.
Ace her scholarship. Graduate with top marks. Build the future her late father dreamed of for her. And, above all, protect the only family she has left-her mother.
The last thing she expects is for one ordinary day to collide with the powerful and enigmatic Caruso family.
What begins as a series of unfortunate encounters soon pulls Seher into a world of wealth, old traditions, family loyalties, and people who seem determined to test her patience at every turn.
With sharp wit, stubborn determination, and a heart that's far softer than she'd ever admit, Seher must navigate unexpected relationships, clashing personalities, and a future she never imagined.
Sometimes, the people we least want in our lives are the ones who change them forever.
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Hey, everyone!
This is my very first story, and I'm so excited (and a little nervous) to finally share it with you.
I truly hope you enjoy reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing it. Your support, votes, comments, and feedback mean the world to me and will help me grow as a writer.
Thank you for giving my story a chance.
Happy reading! ❤️
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#5
stepbrothers
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There is a photograph. First birthday. The whole family around the long table - candles lit, cake centred, everyone leaning toward Isabella reaching for the flame, everyone laughing, everyone looking at the same thing. At the edge of the frame, barely in it, a small dark-haired girl in a white dress is looking at the candle. Not at her family. Not at her sister. Not at the camera. Just at the candle. Quiet. Still. Already, at one year old, watching the warmth from a slight distance. Nobody remembers who took the photograph. It was never framed. Never put in an album. Found years later in a box in the study, loose, slightly creased, as though it had simply been waiting. Her name is Serena Marchetti. The second twin. Born eleven minutes after her sister into a room already arranged around someone else - and she stayed that way, at the edge of things, for as long as the Marchettis of Milan would let her. This is not the story they would tell about her. This is hers.
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