Young-Love

CHAPTER 11: CONTESSA'S POV

“Mothers sacrifice a lot to keep their family safe,” I whispered, staring at the ceiling above my bed, the mid-morning light spilling through the curtains like truth I didn’t ask for. “I’ve sacrificed more than most. Unimaginable things.”

The phone in my hand was hot from being overused. I’d watched the same video more than a hundred times this morning—Zuri throwing punches at Carl in the middle of Queen's High.

The world online was losing its mind.

But I wasn’t crying for Carl. No, I had trained that boy to handle worse.

My tears rolled for the girl in the grainy footage. Her fists, her rage, the fire in her voice. It wasn’t just familiarity. It wasn’t coincidence. I knew that look. That bone structure. Those eyes. I had looked into those eyes once before, in a cold hospital room, fourteen years ago.

Zuri. My baby girl. You’ve grown up so fast, survived and toughened up but still beautiful as I thought you would be one day.

My voice cracked just thinking her name, even though I hadn’t dared speak it aloud in over a decade.

I should have done something sooner. I should have claimed her. And now...

Now Malik had given the order. “Bring me her head,” he said to Nico like he was talking about some stranger.

Nico. My son. My sweet, confused boy. Raised in power but never cruel. I know in my gut he wouldn't go through with it. Not all the way. He wasn't his father, I pray he doesn’t kill her.

Still, the thought of Zuri lying somewhere cold and alone, a target of a bloodline she didn’t even know she belonged to...

It broke me.

A mother in disguise.

Malik didn’t know. He knows that I cheated on him, he doesn’t know anything about our baby girl. My daughter is out there. And she might be dead because of me.

And that... I could never forgive myself for.

I clutched the silk sheets and sat up, staring at the mirror. My reflection stared back—perfect hair, untouched makeup, flawless skin.

In the mirror, I saw her face, she resembled me, every single detail, her face was reminding me of my teenage self.

I stood up, wiped my face, and picked up my phone again. Scrolled to the video. Pressed play. Again.

Because I needed to see her. One more time.

Just in case it was the last.

Zuri. My daughter. I'm so sorry.

I pressed play again.

The same video.

Zuri, swinging at Carl like she was born for the fight. Her stance was raw, her form was flawed, but that punch—it had power. Unfiltered power.

I must’ve watched the clip over a hundred times this morning.

I whispered her name again like a confession, “Zuri...”

Just then, the door burst open.

Nico.

His face was stormy, his arm still in a sling and bleeding, but he moved with that furious energy that only came when he was truly livid.

“Who is Zuri?” he barked.

I didn’t even flinch.

“Have you ended her life already?” I asked softly, the video still frozen on the screen.

“Answer my damn question, Mom!” he shouted, fists clenched. “Who is she and why does she look exactly like you?”

I exhaled.

“Sit,” I told him.

He didn’t. But he didn’t leave either.

“Fourteen years ago was the last time your father smiled,” I began. “The day we learned we were expecting a girl. You father lit up. He wanted a daughter more than anything. It was all he talked about. He said she’d be his little princess.”

Nico’s jaw clenched, but he said nothing.

“Even my father, Don Aurelio, was thrilled. And Mansa Musa? He sent a hundred roses to our doorstep. A damn flood of red and gold. The whole house smelled of joy. Nico, you were just four years old back then but I remember you were excited too. You kept saying you’d protect her.”

I looked up, saw Nico’s expression soften. Only slightly.

“But me? I was drowning. That unborn child already had the world wrapped around her finger. Your dad was shopping for diamond-studded cribs. Designers from Milan were sketching baby gowns. It made me sick.”

I stood up, walked toward the window.

“He never did that for you. Or Carl. He never did it for me. We were just... a phase. But this girl? She was a storm. She was going to break everything. I could feel it. She was making your dad grow soft even before he’d met her. Same applied to my father, your uncles and even your grandpa.”

Nico watched me like he didn’t know who I was.

“So, I did what I had to.”

He tensed. “What the hell did you do mom?”

“I got the pills. A simple swallow and she’d be gone. I held the water in one hand, the pills in my mouth. But then...”

My hand trembled at the memory.

“She kicked.”

Silence.

“It was light, but strong. Like a whisper from the womb saying, 'Let me live.' And I couldn’t do it. I spat them out. I cried for hours. I told no one.”

I turned to face Nico.

“And months later, on April 14th, she was born.”

He said nothing.

“Malik was in a meeting. I gave birth alone. And when I saw her... she looked just like me. A mirror. She was everything your dad ever dreamed of. But also, everything that would destroy both the Five Families and the Italian Empire.”

“So, what did you do exactly?” Nico whispered, voice cracked.

“I asked one of the nurses about other girls born that day. I wanted one from a mixed family. Black and white. I needed it to be seamless.”

“You...” His voice cracked again.

“There was one. Just born. Hour earlier. White mother and dark-skinned father. Her mother was desperate. Poor. Her husband wasn't around. Money speaks, Nico. It always has.”

“You bought her child?” he inquired.

“I gave her a better life... in her eyes. I handed her Zuri. She handed me Bella.”

“A better life for someone else's child yet yours is drowning in the streets.” Nico stepped back like he’d been slapped.

“What the f**k, Mom?”

“And now?” Nico snapped. “You let dad order her death? You let him send me to finish what you couldn’t?”

I closed my eyes. “I hadn't seen the video yet, I watched it this morning after you'd left and that's when I recognized her. If I knew...”

“You should’ve called me!” Nico barked back.

“And ruin everything? Nico, you’re still breathing because I didn’t. If your father found out Zuri was his daughter—the child I hid from him—it would break him. And he’d kill me out of anger for betrayal. That alone would end the long term peace treaty between the five families and the Italian Mafia family. War and bloodshed would befall on this family.”

Nico turned, fists against his temples. He was shaking.

“You caused this in the first place.” Nico pointed out, “What makes you think I care about war and bloodshed.”

“Nico, I’ve hurt Zuri already—cause of my own doings.” I replied, “I wouldn’t want any bloodshed to befall on my family.”

“Family, huh mom?” he smirked, “My sister has been living in trash for the past fourteen years, you simply outcasted her from our family.”

Nico was right, I’d totally dumped Zuri but it was never my intention, I gave the woman who was supposed to act as her mother enough money to take care of Zuri, I’d clearly told her to leave New York City, but she simply remained and raised my little girl in a dumpster.

“Nico, I’m regret my actions and if I had a time machine, I’d correct everything, I was young and stupid when I made that mistake.” I said pouring out my heart.

“But you know time machines are fiction.” Nico exclaimed “So snap back to reality and tell me the way forward for Zuri now.”

“She’s your baby sister, Nico. Your blood. I believe you’ve grown up well to know what to do best for your siblings.”

He didn’t look at me.

“Then the best thing was for me to point a g*n at my baby sister’s head.” He said guilty.

My breath caught.

“She told me she was ready to die. That she missed her dad. She looked at me with those damn blue eyes, like yours. Like mine. I nearly killed her, Mom.”

“But you didn’t right. Tell me my baby is still alive.”

He finally looked at me. “But I almost did.”

Tears welled in my eyes.

“Forgive me. Please. I made a mother’s mistake.”

He shook his head slowly but didn’t speak.

“Then what now?” he asked.

I wiped my face.

“Help me fix it.” I muttered “We protect her and we keep this secret buried for now.”

Nico stared at me.

“Here is the secret you buried, and still want to bury, mom.” He said handing over a file to me.

I opened the file with a trembling hand, the guilt already pressing down on my chest before I even laid eyes on a single word. Inside was a file—thick, full of surveillance notes, photos, and background reports. The first page was enough to undo me.

Zuri Youngblood.

I mouthed the name as I stared at the photo clipped to the corner. Her eyes. Those same beautiful eyes. My eyes. I didn’t need a DNA test or science to prove it. That was my daughter. My flesh and blood. And I let her rot in the streets.

I flipped through the file. First arrest—age twelve. Shoplifting with her father. Second—robbery at a convenience store, detained in juvie for two months.

“She’s been arrested twice,” I whispered. “My child.”

“See what you’ve done mom.” Nico highlighted.

That lady never took good care of my daughter, even with all the large sums of money I’ve kept sending her. The report said that her mother was a neglectful and an alcoholic woman, that b***h tricked me to give her daughter a better life as she got free drinking money from me.

“Her father died,” Nico added, “He was a good man, the very man who gave me this arm sling here—was Zuri’s caretaker and dad killed him.”

“Dad gunned him down,” he continued. “Then ordered me to kill the daughter of the man who was trying to save me.”

My body froze, I will say that really shocked me, but had me scared me too—if Zuri was being raised by a man who was used to doing dirty jobs for Malik, what dirty things has my little girl seen these past fourteen years and it’s all cause of me.

“But if her father is dead, and her mother is neglectful of her, who’s looking after my little girl.” I immediately inquired.

“She still lives in Queensbridge,” Nico replied. “With Roscoe Mitchell, best friend to Zuri’s late father and also one of our henchmen. She lives with him and his daughter… Kiki. Something like that.”

My throat closed up. Zuri was playing big sister in a housing block surrounded by drugs, guns, and poverty.

“I sent her there,” I said, not recognizing my own voice. “I put her in the dirt while Bella—” I stopped myself.

“While Bella got the crown,” Nico finished. “Mom… you made my sister suffer. She fought to survive while you sat behind iron gates and forgot about her.”

Tears spilled onto the file. I didn’t wipe them away.

The weight of my sin wrapped around my chest like a noose. I had buried the truth so deep I never thought I’d have to face it. But now it was staring me in the face—with her little blue eyes reflecting the horror I felt.

“What are we gonna do?” Nico asked. “Dad still wants her head. Should we tell him, she is his daughter?”

I didn’t answer right away. Instead, I stood, walked over to the mirror, and looked myself dead in the eye. This wasn’t just a confession—it was a reckoning.

“No,” I said finally. “It’s not the right time. If your dad finds out who she is now, I’m not certain how he’ll react, just give me some little time to figure things through.”

Nico was quiet.

“I’ll handle your dad,” I added firmly. “You handle Zuri, you need to make sure those videos of her are gone. Scrub them from every corner of the net. She cannot be found for now.”

“What about her education? Her welfare? She can’t keep living on the street, Mom. At least not for now.” He demanded

“You take care of that,” I said. “Get her back into school. Quietly. No noise. No spotlight. We’ll figure out the rest when the time comes.”

Nico stood in place, nodding slightly. He didn’t smile, but there was relief in his eyes.

“And Nico?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t let her know. Not yet. Let me be the villain a little longer till I find a way to safely bring your little sister home.”

He walked out with the folder, leaving me alone with my broken reflection.

God help me.