29| 𝚂𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚕

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Go to the previous chapter to see the new characters.

This chapter is so overdue. I'm so sorry 💀

Dove/Ayla's POV
Age: 10
Location:Ricci's Mansion, New York

Mornings in this household usually aren't very chaotic or loud. Today, however, seems to be an exception.

"MOM WHERE'S MY TIE?" Dylan yells from his room. I watch my mother huff frustratedly and pull out a dark blue tie from his closet.

"You're so lucky you don't have to go to school," Dante huffs. His feet are resting against Dylan's bedframe, his head resting on a pillow.

"I thought you like what you're doing?" I ask.

"Well yeah. But the uniforms." He gestures dramatically to the clothes he's wearing.

Between the red checkered pants, white polo, dark blue tie and blazer, it looked pretty uncomfortable.

Classy, but uncomfortable.

"Well, if she passes today's exam, which I know she will, she'll have to wear the same uniform," my mother says, fussing with a loose button on Daniel's jacket.

"I have to wear the pants?" I whine. My brothers snicker at me.

"There's always the skirt."

"Both sound unappealing," I mutter. I've never worn a skirt in my life, but Ella always complained about how annoying they are to run in.

"Okay stop pouting," my mother says, clapping her hands. "We need to get going."

My brothers groan as they drag themselves out of the room with my mother and I following them.

"What are we doing at the school?" I ask.

"We're going so you can take a test and get placed in the correct grade for you," my mother replies.

I cringe. I hate tests. I always fail them, then get in trouble, then get punished.

I know I won't get punished here, but I really don't want to disappoint my parents.

My brothers take their own cars, the triplets in one and my eldest three brothers in another, while my parents and I go in a separate car.

Last night, I fell asleep almost immediately after I finished my dinner. Marcus tucked me in and turned off the lights and I knocked out.

Of course, I still woke up at an unholy hour from a nightmare, but the somewhat peaceful sleep I got was enjoyable.

It's slightly awkward in the car. My parents and I never got a chance to talk about what my grandfather said yesterday, and I know both of them want to say something about it.

"Ayla." There we go.

"Yes?" My hand blindly clutches a part of Julia's body, bracing myself for the uncomfortableness of the upcoming conversation.

"About what your grandfather said." My mother inhales shakily before continuing. "I'm sure Marcus said something about this, but we never planned to...do that."

"It was actually his idea," my father says. "He thought that if you were a boy, there was no point in continuing the pregnancy."

"Why?" I can't help myself from asking.

"If you were a boy, the Mafias would still go to Marcus and Luca. There would be no new heir," my father explains. "He didn't see any point in it for some reason."

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 ✍︎Where stories live. Discover now