Mafia Princess Novel – I always thought that the man who raped and abused me was my father. But I didn’t know until my parents were killed that the prick wasn’t. In the hospital, I asked the doctor, “How long have I been out?” “About seven hours. They called your father, Mr. Anderson Smith.” I looked at her and said, “My father is Jefferson Carpenter.” “That’s not what your DNA test says.” she answers. I froze and feel nothing just emptiness. “Your father and brother are here. Would you like to see them?” She continued to ask. “Yes, I would like to meet them.” “My princess, so glad to find you.” He hugged me with tears. So did another man. “I have a brother,” I said to him. He laughs. “Actually you have three.”
Liberty POV I walked to the front door of the place I’ve called home for the past four months. I call it home, but I don’t really believe it’s home. It’s more like a present residence. Because it’s full of my painful and cruel memories of my prick father who raped me and abused me. I’m still a teenager, and I have to keep enduring it. I grab the door knob and twist. Furrowing my eyebrows I wonder why the door is locked. Mom’s car is here so she must be home. I grab my spare key and unlock the door. I walk in and shut the door behind me. Turning around, I face the living room. I frown. Where is everyone? “Mom, I’m home,” I yell. My frown deepens when I don’t hear anything. Anxiety eats away at my stomach as I put my bag on the floor and walk to dinning room. I walk in and my jaw drops. I stop breathing. My eyes water but no tears come out. I run towards my mom’s pale body. Blood pulls around her unmoving form. she has no pulse.
She’s dead. Not living. Then I remove the emotions from my mind as I walk to my sister’s room. I open the door without knocking. I look in and fall to my knees. On the ground is my older sister’s body. A slit along her throat. I don’t bother checking her pulse. I already know she’s dead. I stand up and grab my phone. “911, what is your emergency,” says the person on the other end of the line. “My mom and sister are dead. I don’t know what to do. Their just dead. I got home from school and their dead. What do I do?” I ramble on to the person who picked up the phone. “Okay dear, I’m going to send someone there. Stay where your at. Everything is going to be okay,” they say in a soft voice. “Okay,” I say quietly trying to pull myself together. I hang up the phone and run to my room, packing all my things. Suddenly, the front door opens and my eyes shoot open.
Two big guys bust in. Their arms and necks covered in tattoos. “Who the heck are you? And what are you doing in my house?” I ask. They taller one looks at me and smirks. “We’re the ones who did that and we are are here to finish the job,” he says pointing at my mom. I set my face in a cold glare. I grab my pocket knife from inside my pocket and try to find a way to distract them till the police get here. Before I can think of anything the taller one runs at me. He tackles me at the waist sending us falling into the wall. I punch him in the face and he punches me in the stomach, knocking the breath out of me. I recover quickly and kick him where the sun don’t shine. During we battles, the door busts in and this time people with police uniforms come running in. My vision becomes fuzzy before everything goes dark. Anderson Smith POV I’ve always wanted a daughter. My little princess. To protect and watch grow up. I love my son’s but it’s not the same as having a daughter.
I sit in my office. I got stuck doing paperwork today. I’m the American Mafia boss, I shouldn’t have to do paperwork. I’m broken from my thoughts when my phone rings. I inwardly groan as I pick up the phone. “What?!” I yell angrily. “Um… Sorry to bother you….sir but your daughter is in the hospital.” I get angry. What kind of joke is this. “I don’t have a daughter!” I yell. “Sorry sir, but we did a DNA test and your DNA matched. She is your daughter,” he says. I slightly calm down. “I want copies of the DNA test and a picture. I also want all her medical records ready for me when I get there. Send the address along with the things I asked for,” I say and hang up. The DNA test is to make sure they didn’t screw it up and the picture is to see what she looks like. Immediately my phone dings and both the picture and DNA test come in.
Without even looking at the DNA test I can tell its my daughter. I text my eldest, Logan to come to my office. I stare at the picture of my little girl. She has the same birthmark on her left hand. She looks about sixteen. I grow a little sad looking at the picture. I lost sixteen years with my little princess. I went downstairs and gathered my three sons and annouced, “Boys, I have some news that involves the four of us,” I say trying to keep the grin off my face. “Well what is it?” Says Alexander. “I have a daughter,” I say and the two youngest jump up from their spots. “What?! How?!” “What’s her name?” “What does she look like?” “Is she smart?” I shake my head, grinning. “All we have is a location and a picture,” I say holding up the picture of their sister. They crowd around it. “She’s beautiful,” says Alexander. They all nod in agreement. I hand them the phone so I can give instructions. “Me and Logan will be going to pick her up. We leave in about ten minutes.
I would bring you two but I don’t want to overwhelm her. With that being said, when she comes home try not to ask so many questions. Ask a few and if she looks comfortable enough, try asking more. It might take time for her to get used to us. Also no Mafia talk. We don’t want to scare her. But eventually we will tell her. Now Christopher, Alexander, make sure business is taken care of by the time we get back.” I order and they all nod. I get up from my chair and look at the boys. All of us grinning from ear to ear. “I have a daughter,” I say in both awe and disbelief. They nod. “We have a sister,” Christopher says. I turn to Logan. “Let’s go bring her home.” Liberty POV I squint my eyes and grimace from the bright light. I adjust my eyes as I look around. White walls, blue night gown, bathroom, chair, and window. Yep, typical hospital room.
A doctor was there. “How long have I been out?” I ask. “About seven hours. They called your father, Mr. Anderson Smith.” I looked at her. “My father is Jefferson Carpenter,” I say. She looks at me sideways. “That’s not what your DNA test says,” she answers. I lay my head back. I should feel something. Anything. But I feel nothing just emptiness. Jeff isn’t my father. That makes since. He was always a ptick to me. He adored Stacy but it was like…..Well like I wasn’t his child. “Do you need anything,” she asks. I shake my head. “No, thank you though.” I say politely. She smiles at me. “I’ll bring you a pudding in about ten minutes so you medicine can take effect first,” she explains. I nod in understanding and she leaves. When I woke up again, two very tall and muscular men were at the room. One looks about forty-five and the other looks about twenty-five. Their eyes are both blue. The younger one is blonde and the older one has dark hair.
Both are wearing suits that fit their form perfectly. I clear my throat. “Hello, I’m Liberty Renee. I’m going to guess your my birth father and your my brother,” I say. “That is correct. I’m Logan. This is our father,” says the younger man. I smile. “You look so much like your mom,” says my father. My smile becomes slightly less fake but at the same time sadder. I look at the ring on my hand. We all got matching rings. Mine is a black rose. Stacy’s is carnation and mom’s was a daisy. “Thank you,” I say. I notice my father’s hands. Before I could stop myself I grabbed it and examined the matching birthmark to mine. I hold my hand up seeing the exact replica. Snapping out of my daze. I put his hand down. “Sorry,” I say. He shakes his head and laughs.
“There is no need to apologize,” he says. We sit there in silence. Just observing each other. We all three have the same eyes. Before I know what I’m doing I wrap my arms around my brother. He looks taken back from the action but wraps his arms around me. “I have a brother,” I say still not completely believing it. Logan laughs. “Actually, you have three,” he says. I pull back my semi fake smile feeling less strained. “I have three brothers,” I say quietly. Logan nods. I hug him again. Not wanting to let go. “Where is your mom,” he asks. I pull back and sit back down where I was. “She died. Just today,” I say quietly. I just hope this man who is my father and my brother will be good people and won’t abuse me.