Chapter 1
1496 Words
Mirabella
As I sat on the roof of my run-down house, I gazed at the sea of stars twinkling at me. The cold air made the open bruises numb with pain. The intrusive thoughts of jumping down from a three-story house never left my mind, but one voice always stopped me.
"Mira? That's dangerous..."
The voice was faint, and I looked toward my window to see a seven-year-old barely able to stand. I tiptoed and jumped into my room.
"I'm fine, Puto. Why are you still up?"
He shrugged and spoke.
"I came to see if you were asleep."
(Translation: I came to see if you were still alive.)
I nodded, and he walked back to his room. I stood there until I saw his little beanie disappear. I sighed and sat on the mattress on the floor. If I survive, it’s because of him.
He's my half-brother from my mom’s side. His real name is Peter, but I call him Puto as a nickname. He was only three when he was diagnosed with a rare form of leukemia. All the chemotherapy and medicines made him bald, and only his beanie gave him a little confidence.
Mom died when Puto was a year old. She was my biological mother — the woman who gave birth to me. I don't know if my mom was blind to the toxic man she let into our lives, but I can't really blame her. He acted like a saint around her. I was only seven when she met him. He was a regular face in the house for about a month. At first, I thought he might be my real father, but Mom made it clear he wasn’t.
Not even three months passed before he permanently moved in. Mom was a superwoman, working three jobs a day to buy this house and provide everything she could for me. But things changed the moment he settled in.
At first, he was so sweet to Mom and me that it felt like we were drowning in sugar. But while he remained loving to her, he started treating me coldly whenever she wasn’t around. Coldness turned into scolding, scolding into grounding, and grounding into physical hits — which he called "discipline."
At first, I thought maybe it was normal. But eventually, I realized it wasn’t. By then, it was too late. Mom trusted him and would leave for days, thinking I was safe with him. He started using knives to s***h my back by the time I was nine. He threatened to kill Mom if I ever spoke a word.
I kept silent.
But eventually, he didn’t even try to hide it from her. He started hitting me in front of her too.
One day, Mom became pregnant, and Puto was born. That man was over the moon to have a son, but Mom made it clear: she wouldn’t be providing for Puto unless he got a job. They fought constantly until he finally took a job as a toilet cleaner.
I still remember the day I came back from school and saw flashing red and blue lights outside our house. Horror crept up my spine, thinking he had finally acted on his threats.
I imagined Mom being carried out — and that's exactly what happened, but for a different reason. She had collapsed from a brain tumor when a neighbor came over to chat. Mom successfully handed him to her arms before collapsing on the floor.. And Damon was missing.. I thought he finally left..
That disgusting man didn’t come back for days. When he did, he brought a woman, claiming she had been his wife for three years. He tried to kick me out, but the lawyer Mom had hired showed up just in time. She had put the house in my name, and all her assets were left to me. She left a hefty amount for Puto’s medical expenses too — but nothing else. Maybe she knew what that man was capable of.
Though that money was for me but it didn't come all at once..It came monthly and Damon made sure to keep it under him possession..I can’t take control of the money until I turn eighteen.
I'll be turning eighteen in four months.
They know that.
They’re just keeping me alive until they can get what they want.
Puto knows it too. He even says he wishes he could die before then — it breaks my heart to hear him say that.
I lay back on my mattress and wished Mom hadn’t died. Wished I could tell her everything. Now I understood why she never let me call him “Dad.” Maybe she kept me away from my real father for a reason too.But what could be the reason? Sometimes I wonder if my biological father ever wanted me..
I closed my eyes, blocking out the pain from the hits a few hours earlier. I had to go to work tomorrow, anyway.
---
Next Day
I woke up feeling too sore to move. But I had to get up — for Puto.
I barely slept these days, insomnia haunting me because I had to check on him every few hours. I slowly got up, wincing in pain. Grabbing one of my three office pants and a clean shirt, I limped to the bathroom.
I set the shower to the coldest setting and stood there. Blood dripped lightly from reopened wounds. I knew the bruises had split open again from the beating that psycho woman gave me last night.
As if Damon — my stepfather — wasn’t enough, now I had her to deal with too.
After showering, I got dressed, tended to Puto with his morning medicine, cooked breakfast, fed him, and slipped out before they woke up.
I worked for a company that wasn’t too big but wasn’t small either — a branch of a much larger corporation. I was lucky to get the job despite being underage. The authorities here didn’t care about the rules — only about the quality of work. And I had built up skills through years of freelancing.
I had this amazing neighbor when mom was still alive.. He would teach me how to work online.. Luckily he still taught me after mom's death until he moved out.. That was enough for me that time and I could manage to earn enough to feed myself.. With years, I built my skills and secured my position in a company.
Damon stopped my studies after mom's death.. The teacher's thought I was too shaken up so they let me study from home and only attend the exams which really helped. I completed my graduation early and studied for degrees from online.. At least that was available..
Today was a big day: one of the future CEOs of the larger corporation was coming for a visit. The CEO of our branch assigned me to guide him around, trusting me the most.
I waited outside until a luxurious black car pulled up, practically screaming rich. I straightened my coat and forced a polite smile despite the burning pain in my body.
A man in a black suit opened the door, and out stepped a man — first his black boots, then a glimpse of dark brown hair, and finally his full appearance.
Honey-toned skin. Sharp brown eyes like molten chocolate.
I had never gawked at a man before, but this one left me breathless.
"Hello, sir! I'm Mirabella Alexander Russo. I'm here to guide you through the company."
He looked at me — and I swear, shock flashed across his face before his expression turned cold.
"Your... name?!" he asked sharply.
It was a weird question for a first meeting — especially since I’d just told him.
"Mirabella Alexander Russo," I repeated politely.
He stayed silent for a moment, then nodded. I led him inside.
We toured different sectors of the company, and I explained everything carefully. When we neared the CEO's office for the final overview, he suddenly spoke:
"Do you know Alexander Russo?"
"You mean my father?" I joked, smiling lightly.
I figured he meant my biological father — the "Alexander" in my name. Mom’s name was Mirael, and I went by Mirabella. It only made sense the "Alexander Russo" part came from the man I never knew.
I stopped when I realized he wasn’t walking beside me anymore.
I turned to find him staring at me, dead in the eyes.
"I'm sorry, sir," I stammered,head bowing slightly in both shame and fear of being kicked out
"People just assume it's my father's name... I apologize for my behavior."
The man standing before me — Alex Romano — was not someone I wanted to cross. One wrong move, and I could be fired... banned from every company under their branch.
He stared at me intensely and asked,
"Do you know any Alexander Russo? Do you realize how much you look like him?"
- Writer
