the Mafia adopted darling

Chapter One: The Forgotten Daughter The rain had been falling for three hours when they found her. It was almost midnight, and the small orphanage called Haven House had already fallen silent. The children were asleep in their narrow beds, the night guard was half-dozing in his chair, and Sister Margaret was finishing her prayers when a faint sound reached her ears. Three knocks. Then silence. She frowned. Three more knocks. Sister Margaret rose from her chair. “Who could that be at this hour?” She walked through the dark corridor and approached the front door. The sound of rain became louder as she opened it. Cold wind rushed into the building. At first, she saw nothing. Then lightning flashed across the sky. And there, sitting beside the iron gate, was a little girl. She was soaked from head to toe. Her knees were pulled against her chest, and her thin arms were wrapped tightly around them. She wore a simple white dress beneath a dark coat that was far too large for her. She looked about twelve years old. Sister Margaret hurried toward her. “My child!” The girl slowly lifted her head. For several seconds, Sister Margaret couldn't speak. The girl was extraordinarily beautiful. Her long, dark hair clung to her cheeks, and her skin was almost impossibly smooth despite the cold and rain. Her eyes were large and unusual—a deep shade of violet that seemed to glow whenever lightning illuminated her face. But it wasn't her beauty that frightened Sister Margaret. It was the emptiness in those beautiful eyes. “Are you hurt?” Sister Margaret asked. The girl shook her head. “What's your name?” Silence. Sister Margaret crouched beside her. “Where are your parents?” The girl's lips trembled. “They left me.” The words were barely audible. Sister Margaret's heart broke. “Who left you?” “My family.” “Where are they?” “I don't know.” “Do you remember where you came from?” The girl looked toward the road behind her. “They told me not to look back.” Sister Margaret noticed something lying beside the child. A small black suitcase. Nothing else. No food. No identification. No note. She picked up the suitcase and found a single photograph inside. It showed the girl standing between a man and a woman. The man wore an expensive black suit. The woman wore a diamond necklace. They looked wealthy. Very wealthy. But both of their faces had been carefully scratched away with something sharp. Sister Margaret stared at the photograph. “Who are these people?” The girl looked at it. “My parents.” “Why did they leave you?” The girl's expression changed. For the first time, Sister Margaret saw fear. “I don't know.” A loud crash of thunder shook the sky. The girl flinched. Sister Margaret immediately wrapped her arms around her. “Come inside, child. You're freezing.” The girl hesitated. “Will you send me away?” “No.” “Promise?” “I promise.” The girl slowly stood. That was when Sister Margaret noticed something strange. The child wasn't merely beautiful. There was something about her presence that made the entire world seem to become quiet. Even the rain seemed softer. “What is your name?” Sister Margaret asked again. The girl looked into her eyes. “Talia.” “Talia what?” She lowered her head. “Talia Vale.” THE NEXT day The next morning, everyone at Haven House knew about her. The orphanage had twenty-seven children, ranging from three to seventeen. Most had arrived carrying stories of loss, poverty, abuse, or abandonment. But Talia was different. She didn't cry. She didn't complain. She didn't ask for toys. She didn't ask where she would sleep. She simply sat beside the window in the dining room, staring at the rain. The other children watched her. A ten-year-old boy named Samuel finally approached. “Are you really twelve?” Talia nodded. “Why are your eyes purple?” “I don't know.” Samuel leaned closer. “Are you a princess?” “No.” “Are you rich?” Talia shook her head. “Then why do you look like one?” A few children laughed. For the first time, Talia smiled. It was a tiny smile. But every child in the room went silent. She was breathtaking. One of the older girls whispered, “She's the prettiest person I've ever seen.” Another answered, “Me too.” Talia lowered her eyes. She wasn't used to compliments. At home, beauty had never been something anyone praised. It had been something people feared. Something her father had hidden. Something her mother had warned her about. Never let anyone know what you can do. Those words echoed inside her mind. Talia's fingers tightened around her spoon. She remembered the night before. Her father's cold expression. Her mother's tears. The black car. The long road. And finally— The gate. Her father had opened the car door. “Get out.” She had stared at him. “Daddy?” He wouldn't look at her. “Please.” Her mother had remained silent. Talia had grabbed her father's sleeve. “Where are we going?” He pulled his arm away. “You'll be safe here.” “Come with me.” “I can't.” “Why?” He had looked at her then. There was pain in his eyes. And fear. More fear than Talia had ever seen in any human being. “Because if they find you,” he whispered, “everyone you love will die.” Then he had driven away. Talia had stood alone beneath the rain. She had watched the red lights of the car disappear. And something inside her had broken.