She Stole My Dad. I Stole His Throne
Juniper Marlow · Completed · 5.5k Words
Introduction
They gave her everything that was mine. My territory, my mother's necklace, even my bedroom. I was the real daughter, the real bloodline, and I still wasn't worth half of the stray my father dragged home.
I took it all. Every insult, every slap, every scrap of love that went to her instead of me. Because I thought maybe one day they'd see me.
They never did. They killed me instead.
Now I'm back. Same night, same banquet, same girl sitting across from me with fake tears, begging for my port.
This time I didn't hand it over. I smashed a wine bottle, slapped her face open, and told my father we're done.
He called his guards. My brother pulled a gun.
What they forgot is that my grandfather is the real power in this family. And I already sent him a message.
Chapter 1
In my last life, my own brother Nico broke both my legs. My adopted sister Celeste pushed me off the family yacht into the sea.
And my father Renato just stood on the deck watching. His only complaint was that my blood got on his shoes.
I could still feel the seawater filling my lungs. That choking feeling never went away.
But now I was back.
Reborn, right in the middle of the Corsetti family's annual inner circle banquet.
I reached under the table, grabbed my phone, and fired off a message.
"Sister, won't you please let me have the southern port?"
A sugar-sweet voice dragged me back to reality.
I looked up. Celeste sat across from me in a white couture dress, eyes red-rimmed, teeth digging into her lower lip.
What really made my blood boil was the necklace around her throat. A pigeon blood ruby pendant — the only thing my dead mother ever left behind.
Last time around, at this exact banquet, Celeste had pulled this same act and snatched the family's most profitable port right out of my hands.
I'd handed over the seal like an idiot. For "family harmony." For one word of praise from my father or brother.
And what did that get me?
They took more. Squeezed harder. Bled me dry until there was nothing left to take.
When I didn't answer, Celeste's tears started falling.
"I know you look down on me because of where I come from. You think I don't deserve a seat at the table." She pressed a hand to her chest, leaning back like she might faint. "But I want to help the family carry the load. Father says my health can't handle the high-pressure work, and the southern port is lighter duty. If you really don't want to give it up, that's fine. I don't want to cause a rift in the family over someone like me."
My brother Nico was on his feet in a heartbeat. He pulled Celeste into his arms and turned on me.
"Val! You got nothing to say? Celeste can barely stand and you won't even give her the port? You've got more territory than anyone. How greedy can you get?"
"Do you know how selfish and cold-blooded you look right now?"
His voice carried across the entire hall. Every captain at every table put down their silverware, heads turning our way.
The whispers started immediately.
"She's not well and she still wants to pull her weight, but the eldest can't even give her that?"
"Right? She just wants to help out. Nobody's asking her to hand over the keys to the kingdom."
I listened to this garbage and laughed.
How stupid was I in my last life? Wasting my energy on people who couldn't tell right from wrong.
"What's so funny? Hand over the port seal!" Nico slammed his fist on the table.
Renato set down his wine glass at the head of the table, frowning. His tone was pure command.
"Val, enough. Celeste is your sister. Family doesn't keep score. Give her the seal in front of the captains. This is done."
Family?
Celeste was the bastard child of some woman he'd been screwing around with.
My mother was barely in the ground before he brought this girl home and passed her off as an adopted sister.
And she was supposed to be family?
I ignored him. Got up. Picked up a bottle of Romanée-Conti from the table, nice and slow.
"Sister, you—" Celeste watched me walk toward her. Something flickered behind her eyes, but she shrank back into Nico's arms, playing scared.
Next second.
CRACK.
I smashed the wine bottle on the edge of the table.
Glass went everywhere. Wine and shards splattered across the white tablecloth.
Every eye in the room was on me when I grabbed a fistful of Celeste's hair and ripped her straight out of Nico's arms.
"AHHH! It hurts! Nico, save me!" Celeste shrieked.
I backhanded her across the face. Hard.
The sound echoed through the hall.
I'd put everything into that slap. Her lip split open and she hit the floor.
"Who the hell do you think you are?" I stood over her. "The bastard child of some lowlife, and you think you can come for my territory?"
"You want the southern port? Fine. I'll send you straight to hell. You can run the dead people's port."
Dead silence.
Nobody moved. To everyone in that room, Val Corsetti had always been a doormat — the girl who'd do anything to keep her father and brother happy.
Nobody saw this coming.
"Val! Have you lost your mind?!"
Nico reacted first. He yanked a Beretta from his hip. The barrel was aimed right between my eyes.
"Let go of Celeste! Get on your knees and apologize! Or I swear I'll put a bullet in you right now!"
My own brother, pressing a gun against my skull.
I felt nothing.
I didn't flinch. Didn't step back. I walked straight into the barrel and pressed my forehead against the cold metal.
"Pull the trigger." I locked eyes with him. "Go ahead. Shoot me right now. And if you can't, you're even more pathetic than the bastard on the floor."
Nico's hand shook. Whatever he saw in my eyes made the color drain from his face.
"She's lost it! She's completely lost it!"
Renato erupted from the head of the table. He kicked it over and jabbed a finger in my face, screaming.
"Val! Somebody grab her! If I don't break her legs today, I don't deserve to call myself head of this family!"
On his word, a dozen guards pulled their guns and closed in from every corner of the hall.
I looked at the circle of weapons surrounding me.
And laughed.
"Renato, did you forget? This family is not yours to run."
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