Not a Nobody

THE HEIR

Salvatore Estate – Grand Dining Hall**

The dinner table was long, silverware gleaming under crystal chandeliers. The mood was polished… until the conversations began peeling back layers.

**Viola** sat tall beside Mr. Salvatore. **Gio** was seated across, next to his father, **Mr. Sicilian**, and his mother, **Mrs. Corsican**.

**Fiona**, near the end, was quietly picking at her plate, seated between **Max**

**Mrs. Salvatore** and **Meera** exchanged glances while trying to maintain civility. The staff moved discreetly, pouring wine, offering side dishes. But the tension… it was inescapable.

---

> **Mr. Sicilian** cleared his throat, smiling tightly.

> “Tonight marks the continuation of a bond. Salvatore and Sicilian—old friends, becoming family.”

> Mr. Salvatore nodded, raising his glass.

> “It’s an honor. We accept the proposal.”

A formal handshake followed—**Mr. Sicilian and Mr. Salvatore’s palms meeting firmly** at the center of the table. Everyone clapped softly.

**Viola’s smile returned, her posture straightening.**

> **Gio stood up**, voice calm but sharp.

> “Then let it be known. The engagement should happen next week. The marriage... within a month or two.”

> (pausing, scanning the table)

> “But before any of that—**I need to speak to the bride**.”

Whispers stirred like wind.

**Viola’s fork dropped.**

She stood up quickly, smile frozen, her eyes wide.

> “Wait... *what* did you just say?”

Across the table, **Gianna and Angelo**, Gio’s siblings, exchanged **secret smiles**—barely veiled.

Gio didn’t respond to Viola.

Instead, his eyes flicked toward the other end of the table—**to Fiona**, who sat frozen, eyes darting in confusion.

Viola followed his gaze.

Her mouth parted in disbelief.

> “Are you serious right now?” Viola’s voice cracked slightly.

> “You *know* the agreement—our families made it years ago. It was always going to be me. **The heir.**”

> **Mr. Sicilian** sat straighter, his voice louder now.

> “Are we not following tradition? Wasn’t the agreement to wed our heir to yours? "Then what’s this confusion, Salvatore?”

Suddenly, the table was no longer civil.

**Mrs. Sicilian** went silent.

**Meera** leaned forward, calm but cutting:

> “As far as I know… Viola has been in that place since the beginning.

Gio said,

But if we’re talking agreement

** It was always about blood.** The true heir. And sorry, Mrs. Corsican—”

> (a quick glance)

> “An agreement is an agreement, no? And this one was *blood to blood.*”

Everyone froze.

**Viola's face turned pale.**

**Mr. Salvatore**, attempting to mediate, interjected:

> “I understand, Gio. We all do. But you must realize… Viola’s been raised beside you, since childhood. She’s been trained, groomed, and—”

> (a glance at Fiona)

> “Fiona just returned to us. She’s still processing everything. This world. This life. Viola is… prepared.”

Gio looked at him, unreadable.

**Viola’s hand slammed the table.**

> “You think I don’t see it?! "You’re all *entertaining* this idea like it’s logical—*like she deserves it!*”

All heads turned.

> “She comes back after YEARS, and suddenly she’s wearing the heirloom bracelet? Suddenly **he** can’t stop staring at her? And you—”

> (pointing at Mr. Salvatore)

> “Papa You knew this was happening! You planned this, didn’t you? All of you, behind my back!”

**Fiona** tried to speak, voice soft:

> “Viola… I didn’t know anything—”

> “**Don’t.**” Viola snapped.

> “Don’t act innocent with that ‘I didn’t know’ look. You’ve done nothing but exist in my place since you came back!”

Max stood, face hard.

> “She’s not trying to take your place, Viola.”

> “Of course you’d say that,” Viola hissed.

> “You’ve always wanted someone else to wear the crown. Maybe someone quieter. Easier to control.”

Meera grabbed Fiona’s hand under the table.

**Mrs. Salvatore** stood now, voice tense:

> “Viola, enough.”

But she wasn’t done.

> “You all want a perfect Salvatore daughter? A puppet who doesn’t speak, doesn’t challenge, doesn’t fight?”

> (tears brimming in her eyes)

> “Then fine. Let her have it. But don’t expect me to sit and smile through this farce!”

She stormed away from the table, **pushing her chair so hard it screeched**.

A plate shattered as her dress brushed the table edge.

Silence hung like smoke.

**Gio was still standing**, eyes locked with Fiona’s.

**Fiona**, shaking, blinking—unsure whether to run or remain seated.

**Mr. Salvatore** let out a breath.

> “It begins.”

.....................

“Is it true?”

Both women turned.

Fiona’s voice trembled, but her stare was unwavering.

“The agreement. The heir. Everything Mr.Giovanne said… and what Meera implied… Is it true that I was always meant to be the one?” Not viola

Mrs. Salvatore's lips parted, but no words came out.

Meera stepped forward, sighing.

“It was never supposed to get this far without telling you, Fiona.”

(softly)

“Yes. The agreement was blood-bound. Signed between Don Alessandro Salvatore and Don Raffaello Sicilian, when you were just one month old. You were the firstborn of the family. The heir. Not Viola.”

“Then why didn’t anyone tell me?” Fiona’s voice cracked.you all said this was to protect me, but why am I the one who is hurting others?

Mrs. Salvatore, guilt etched into every line on her face, answered:

“Because we thought you’d never return to us.” We thought you would be in India even if you got to know the truth, because you always wanted to be in India.

Silence.

But

“And when you did… you weren’t ready. You were still healing, remembering. We didn’t want to… overwhelm you.”

Fiona stared at the marble floor, her fingers trembling.

“And Viola?”

Meera’s expression darkened.

“She don't knew.

You guys are gone so far saying this Fiona ran to the balcony seeing this maximus followed her

Mr. Sicilian, started to speak with Mr. Salvatore and Mrs. Corsican in a low voice, began to recount the origins.

“The pact was clear. A blood marriage. Heir to heir. Your daughter, Fiona, and my son, Giovannie.”

“It was sealed with a drop of blood on the parchment, signed by our patriarchs.”

“Viola was never in that place. She was the backup, the shadow. Fiona carried the crest since birth.”

He leaned back, eyes narrowing.

“You hid it from viola. From my son. I wonder why.”

Mr.Salvatore said there is a reason for all this. Don't worry, you will all get to knowin the future.

Viola, still in her red dress, tore off her diamond necklace and hurled it across the room. Tears streamed down her cheeks, black mascara streaking her face. Gianna stood by silently as she crumbled into a chair, shaking.

“She’s taking everything. Everything I built. Everything I sacrificed for.”

“And he… he looked at her like she hung the stars.”

her personal servent hesitated.

“Do you want us to… do something?” mam

Viola wiped her tears and stood, a dark glint in her eyes.

“We’re not going to cry about it. "We’re going to remind her that this world doesn’t belong to the weak.”

She turned to her.

“You know what to do.”

Meanwhile

Gio Requests a Private Moment – “Come With Me”

Back in the hallway, Gio found Fiona and Max standing near the grand staircase, clearly shaken, and she was crying in Max's arms, saying I really don't want to hurt her, Maxy.

“Fiona.”

She turned wiping her tears

“I need to speak with you. Alone.”

Her breath caught. Max, standing nearby, looked at her.

“It’s okay, Max,” she whispered.

“I want to hear what he has to say.”

Gio guided her toward the east wing of the mansion—his hand hovering near hers but never touching.

They entered the old Salvatore library. The door shut behind them with a quiet click.

Gio turned, eyes stormy but soft.

“I didn’t mean to throw you into this fire, Fiona.”

“But I had to say it. Because the lies have gone on long enough. You… were the one I was promised to. Not her.”

“And when I saw you walk down those stairs tonight…”

(he stepped closer)

“It felt like a vow waking up in my blood.”

Fiona swallowed, heart racing.

“But I never asked for this. I never wanted to be the reason she cried like that.”

“You didn’t take anything from her,” Gio said gently.

“She tried to steal what was always yours.”

Their eyes met in silence.

What is going to happen nexttttttt???????????? bunches