A Forgotten Birthday

The rhythmic chime of the grandfather clock echoed through the grand dining room, striking seven times. Alessia’s rough hands moved with practiced precision over the long mahogany table. She smoothed out the invisible wrinkles in the heavy linen tablecloth and aligned the polished silver cutlery beside the pristine porcelain plates. A single mistake would cost her dearly. She could not afford to be late with dinner, especially not tonight. The Vitiello family demanded absolute perfection, and any minor delay would bring their wrath down upon her shoulders. She stepped back, her chest rising and falling in shallow breaths, and double-checked the intricate arrangement of the dishes.

Preparing the evening meal was always a brutal test of her endurance. She had spent the last three hours confined in the sweltering kitchen, juggling heavy pots and sharp knives to cater to their strict demands. Her half-sister, Gia, obsessed over her figure and demanded a crisp garden salad alongside a bowl of clear vegetable soup. Her stepmother, Nadia, requested a rich, spiced egg curry served over fluffy steamed rice. Her father, Pietro, required a strict, oil-free diet due to his failing health. Alessia had to memorize and execute every preference without flaw. A misplaced garnish or a hint of excess salt meant a night locked in the dark basement without food or water.

A sharp click of expensive heels against the marble staircase shattered the quiet atmosphere. Alessia stiffened instantly. She snapped her head toward the grand archway, her pulse thrashing against her ribs in pure anticipation. Gia and Nadia descended the sweeping staircase, their voices floating through the cold air in a light, carefree tone. They wore expensive silk loungewear, their hair perfectly styled even for a simple night confined to the house. The moment Gia’s gaze landed on Alessia, her bright smile twisted into a sneer of deep disgust. Nadia offered the exact same contemptuous glare. Alessia lowered her eyes to the polished hardwood floor, tracking the reflection of the chandelier. She was used to the silent hostility. It was the only language this family chose to speak to her. Heavy, deliberate footsteps followed shortly after. Pietro stepped into the dining room, his towering presence sucking the remaining warmth from the air.

Pietro claimed the large leather chair at the head of the table. Nadia and Gia took their respective seats on either side of him. Alessia retreated to the shadowed corner of the room, folding her hands over her worn apron. She stood motionless, assuming the role of the obedient servant, waiting for her next command. The family ignored her existence. They piled their plates high with the elaborate food she had spent hours preparing. The dining room fell into an oppressive stillness. The only noise was the sharp clink of silver forks scraping against fine china and the soft smacking of their lips. The silence stretched out, thick and suffocating, turning minutes into agonizing hours.

A hollow ache gnawed at the pit of Alessia’s stomach. The rich aroma of roasted spices and fresh vegetables drifted across the massive room, wrapping around her senses and making her mouth water. She clenched her jaw, swallowing the bitter taste of her own starvation. She fought the primal urge to stare at the steaming food. She had survived in this sprawling mansion by subsisting on their scraps for years. Eating a fresh, hot meal was a luxury she had never known. Despite the gnawing pain in her belly and the degrading treatment, a twisted sense of obligation kept her anchored to the floorboards. She convinced herself to be grateful for the roof over her head and the morsels they discarded. Without them, she would be freezing on the unforgiving streets.

The agonizing dinner finally reached its conclusion. Chairs scraped against the floor as the Vitiello family rose and abandoned the table, leaving behind half-eaten portions and crumpled linen napkins. Alessia let out a quiet breath of relief. She moved swiftly, stacking the dirty plates and carrying them into the massive kitchen. She scraped the remnants into the steel sink, loaded the heavy dishwasher, and scrubbed the marble countertops until they gleamed under the harsh lights. Once the chores were finished, she retrieved a small, chipped ceramic plate from the bottom cabinet. She carefully gathered the leftover egg curry and a small scoop of untouched rice, her stomach growling in loud, desperate protests. Tonight, there was plenty of extra food left behind. She could finally eat until the sharp pain faded. She carried her meager prize to her designated corner in the pantry, eager for her first real bite.

"Alessia, come to my room quickly." Nadia’s sharp, commanding voice cut through the quiet house, echoing down the long corridor.

Alessia froze in her tracks. The metal fork slipped from her trembling fingers and clattered against the ceramic plate. A fresh wave of hunger clawed at her insides, begging for nourishment, but she did not dare take a single bite. Disobeying her stepmother was a guaranteed death wish. She grabbed a plastic lid, covered her cold food, and pushed the plate to the back of the granite counter. She wiped her damp hands on her apron and rushed out of the kitchen, terrified of the consequences of keeping them waiting.

Her bare feet slapped softly against the hardwood floor as she hurried toward the master suite. She stopped in front of the towering oak door and took a deep, steadying breath. She raised her knuckles and knocked twice, the sound barely a whisper against the thick wood. She pushed the heavy door open and slipped inside, keeping her gaze pinned to her own toes. The atmosphere in the room was thick with unspoken tension. Pietro, Nadia, and Gia were seated in the plush sitting area, deep in discussion. Their expressions were locked in masks of cold indifference.

"Alessia, please come inside." Pietro ordered, his voice lacking a single shred of warmth.

Alessia shuffled forward, keeping her chin tucked down against her chest. Meeting their eyes was a punishable offense in the Vitiello household. Pietro pushed himself out of his armchair and towered over her, his broad shadow swallowing her small frame.

"What took you so long? You know the rules of this house. You need to respect us and our authority." Pietro snapped, his tone cutting through the quiet room like a blade.

Alessia squeezed her eyes shut. Her small shoulders trembled under the weight of his unyielding glare. She nodded in silence, shrinking inward, swallowing the heavy lump of shame lodged in her dry throat. She felt pathetic and small, but she knew she had to obey his strict rules to survive the night.

"You will be getting married to Valerio Marchetti in just seven days. I have fixed your marriage. You should feel fortunate to become a part of such a wealthy family." Pietro delivered the news with the casual tone of a man discussing a mundane business transaction.

Alessia’s head snapped up, the strict rules forgotten in the wake of pure, unadulterated shock. The air evaporated from her burning lungs. Her mind spun out of control, unable to process the nightmare unfolding before her eyes. Valerio Marchetti. The name was synonymous with danger, ruthlessness, and untold mafia power. She had never laid eyes on the man, and now she was being bound to him in a matter of days. Panic seized her chest. Her world flipped upside down in a fraction of a second. She searched their unfeeling faces for a hint of a joke, for a sign that this was just another cruel prank meant to break her spirit. She desperately wondered if there was any way to escape this arranged nightmare.

"Wasn't Gia supposed to be his bride?" Alessia forced the words out of her throat, seizing the tiny window of opportunity to question her fate.

Gia let out a dramatic sigh and leaned back against the expensive leather sofa, casually inspecting her manicured fingernails. "I'm sorry, but I can't marry him. He's a playboy, and the marriage will last only three years. No way. I won't do this." Gia stated firmly, brushing off the monumental union as if it were a cheap dress she simply refused to wear.

Nadia uncrossed her legs and offered a patronizing, hollow smile. "But we need this alliance to merge our businesses. That's why we have to have a marriage between our families. And that's why we've invested so much into you. So, one day, you could be a valuable asset in a business deal."

Alessia stared at her stepmother, the horror expanding rapidly in her chest. The sheer cruelty of the statement hit her like a physical blow to the ribs. They were discussing a trade involving her flesh and blood. Her father was willing to use her as a cheap bargaining chip to secure a corporate merger. Her entire miserable existence in this house, the years of endless servitude and starvation, had all been a calculated investment. She was not a daughter. She was not even a human being to them. She was an inanimate object in their household, a disposable tool meant to secure their overflowing wealth. The heartbreaking realization shattered whatever fragile hope she still harbored in her damaged heart.

A sudden, desperate courage flared in her chest. She took a step toward her father, taking a deep breath and doing something she had never dared to do in her eighteen years of miserable life.

"Dad, please don't force me into marrying someone from a wealthy family. I never asked for this. Tomorrow, I turn eighteen, and I promise I won't be a burden to you anymore. Just give me a chance to live my own life." Alessia poured every ounce of her soul into the plea, her voice trembling as she begged the man who shared her blood to show her a single ounce of mercy.

Pietro’s face remained carved from unforgiving stone. Not a single muscle twitched in sympathy.

"I have made a decision for your life. There is no option for you but to marry Valerio Marchetti. Though I have done so much for you, I have hated you for so many years because you are that whore’s daughter who spoiled my life. I was forced to live with her against my will. So, think of this as repayment for your mother's sin. You don't have to live with him for the rest of your life, but only for three years. After three years, the contract will end, and you will be free." Pietro spat the words with pure venom, looking down at her with undisguised disdain.

The sheer hatred radiating from his dark eyes stripped away the last of Alessia’s crumbling defenses. A chilling helplessness washed over her trembling body. No one cared about her well-being. Her own father viewed her as a curse, a living monument to a woman he despised. She was losing her remaining trust in humanity. It felt as though she was born under a cursed star, destined to suffer through endless misfortune.

Gia was three years older than Alessia, born while Pietro was still legally bound to Alessia’s mother. The truth of their twisted family dynamic was a heavy burden Alessia carried in absolute silence. Pietro had loved Nadia all along but felt pressured by his strict parents into a union with Alessia’s mother. The moment Alessia’s mother passed away in deep sorrow, Pietro did not waste a single second. He married Nadia and dragged her and Gia into the mansion, erasing the past and punishing Alessia for simply breathing.

Nadia waved her hand dismissively through the air, signaling the immediate end of the meeting.

"You're free to go now. We'll begin preparing for the wedding tomorrow. You should feel lucky to be marrying into such a wealthy and influential family." Nadia leaned back, a smug smirk twisting her painted lips.

Alessia stumbled backward, her vision swimming with fresh, hot tears. Lucky. The word tasted like vile poison on her tongue. Nadia knew nothing of the vows Alessia had made to herself. Alessia had no interest in marrying a wealthy man. Having watched her own mother wither away and die in absolute misery under the crushing weight of a wealthy man’s cruelty, Alessia knew the truth. Rich men were evil, heartless creatures fueled by destruction.

She turned on her heel and fled the master suite, unable to breathe the same toxic air as them for another agonizing second. She drifted back down the long hallway like a hollow shell. She walked into the dark, empty kitchen and stared at her isolated corner. The chipped plate of leftover egg curry and cold rice sat on the granite counter, right where she had left it. Her stomach was completely empty, twisting into tight, painful knots, but the ravenous hunger was gone. The thought of eating made her throat close in deep nausea. Her appetite had died alongside her fleeting thoughts of freedom.

She turned her head toward the digital wall clock hanging above the massive oven. The red numbers flashed brightly in the consuming darkness, reading exactly midnight.

"Happy Birthday to me." Alessia whispered to the empty, uncaring room.

There would be no celebration. No one else would be around to wish her well. She had just turned eighteen. This was the milestone she had prayed for every single night. She had counted down the miserable days, looking forward to the exact moment she could walk out the front doors and disappear into the world. But now, her life was falling apart at the seams. The Vitiello family had clipped her wings right as she reached the edge of the cage.

Alessia abandoned the cold food and retreated down the narrow hallway to her small, windowless bedroom. She pushed the door shut and sank heavily to the hard floor. Her trembling hands reached under her thin, uncomfortable mattress, pulling out a faded, cracked photo frame. She clutched it tight against her chest. She stared at the smiling face of her mother, tracing the cool glass with a shaking thumb. A broken sob tore through her throat. Her future was a black void, sold off to a ruthless stranger to pay for sins she never committed. As tears streamed down her face, she wept into the endless, unfair night.