I Refuse To Be Their Blank Chip

My mother, Donna Isabella, had one rule. Every major family verdict was decided by a set of custom chips. One for each of us. The side with the family crest meant protection. Backing. The blank side meant accusation. Guilt. Majority rules. Once, my brother Nico broke a priceless vase and blamed it on me. Isabella saw the whole thing happen. But she still slammed her chip onto the table in front of everyone. Blank side up. I was locked in the damp wine cellar for a week. "Nico is the heir to the family," she told me. "Take the fall for him. It's your duty." Then there was my sister, Sofia. She flaunted the "Heart of Eternity" necklace right in my face. It was my design. It was supposed to be my engagement gift. I snatched it back, and she ran crying to Mother. Isabella called another family meeting. The chips on the table? All blank-side up. Sofia kept the necklace around her neck, and I had to apologize. But I was born stubborn. Put a gun to my head. I still won't confess. Isabella pointed at the chips. "Your father and brother voted against you. Are we all liars?" Until the day on the yacht. I caught my fiancé. Naked. Tangled in the sheets with my sweet, pathetic little sister. Isabella didn't ask why they betrayed the engagement. Instead, she slapped me hard across the face. Then she brought out that chip box. Five blanks. One crest. My fiancé, Julian, flipped the last blank chip himself. "Aurora, Sofia swore she'd go to a convent. Why are you doing this?" I picked up that single, lonely crest-side-up chip and threw it back into the box. "I did nothing wrong." Isabella stared at me. She slowly shut the box. "Today, you're going to learn something. In our world, 'right or wrong' doesn't mean a damn thing." ... Chapter 1 The second slap was coming, but my father caught her wrist. "Enough, Isabella," Marco growled. "The charity gala is in two days. Every Don on the East Coast will be there. How do I explain a bruised bride to the guests?" Isabella scoffed and pulled her hand back. I slumped onto the rug, gasping for air. I looked past Marco's tailored suit. Into the corner of the sofa. Julian, my fiancé, sat there. Three buttons undone. No tie. My sister Sofia cowered behind him, head down, frantically pulling a slipped strap back over her shoulder. "You all saw it." I pushed myself off the floor. "On the yacht. They were naked. All over each other. And now, you want me to apologize?" Isabella walked over, took off her cashmere shawl, and draped it over Sofia. She turned to me, frowning. "Rory, temper. The Vitali and Marchetti alliance secures our East Coast ports. If this scandal leaks, what will The Commission think?" "They're the ones who caused the scandal!" I fired back. Nico closed the distance and gripped my shoulders. "Control yourself, Aurora," my brother hissed. His eyes held a warning. "Mother is fixing this. Stop making it worse." I slapped Nico's hands away and glared at Marco. "Father, you sent me to the yacht with those files. You knew they were there. Didn't you?" Marco looked away. He took a sip of his whiskey. He didn't deny it. Sofia stood up from the sofa and buried her face in her hands, sobbing. "Rory, I'm sorry. It's my fault." Her shoulders shook. "I was drunk. The thunder scared me. I hugged him first... please forgive us." Julian immediately wrapped an arm around her waist. He looked at me. "Aurora, take it out on me. Sofia knows she messed up. She's been crying all night. How much more can you push her?" I stared at the face I had loved for three years. I felt sick to my stomach. "The engagement is done," I said, my voice deadly quiet. "Tomorrow morning, I'm releasing a statement to the press." "No." Isabella cut me off. She walked to the center of the room. "The marriage happens. Sofia will take your place. We'll release a statement to the press. Cite health issues. Aurora has been managing the family business for years. The pressure broke her. She's mentally unstable. The day after tomorrow, a car takes her to a private sanitarium in Switzerland." Marco put his glass down. "It saves the business. Done." Mentally unstable? A Swiss sanitarium? To cover up their mess. They were locking me in a psych ward. I walked up to Julian and blocked his path. "Julian. If you have any spine left at all, you stand up at that press conference tomorrow and tell everyone the real reason this is over." "Julian..." Sofia tugged his sleeve, trembling. Julian shielded Sofia behind him. "Aurora, do we really have to get ugly?" He frowned. "You're the eldest Vitali daughter. Smart. Beautiful. You'll find someone better. Do you really have to ruin your own sister's reputation?" I raised my hand and slapped him. Hard. The slap echoed through the room. Blood pooled at the corner of Julian's mouth. "Aurora!" Nico roared. He charged at me and shoved me back. "Have you lost your mind?!" I lost my balance. I fell backward, my head slamming into the edge of the fireplace. The room spun. Warm liquid dripped down my forehead and into my left eye. Everything went red. The side table crashed down. The family voting chips scattered across the rug. Hilarious. Right now, every single one of them landed crest-side up. Isabella walked over. She crouched and picked up the chips, dropping them back into the box one by one. "Violent. Manic." She stood up, staring at the blood on my face. "You really are sick. Unfit to marry for the family." I grabbed the fireplace, dragging myself up. Blood dripped onto the rug. "I'm sick?" I pointed at the cheating pair. "They betray me, you do nothing. I get hit, and I’m the one going to a psych ward?" Isabella didn't answer. She looked down at the wooden box and pulled out my chip. The side with the family crest. She pinched the chip, walked to the open French doors, and flicked her wrist. Tossing it out into the pitch-black night. "Listen closely." Isabella turned around. "The whole family says you're wrong. Your little defense changes nothing." Chapter 2 I clung to the fireplace, forcing myself to stand tall. The blood on my forehead was half-dry, pulling at my skin. "You all look so sweet standing together," I smirked. "But a majority vote doesn't make you clean." Nico frowned. A flash of pity crossed his eyes, but he stepped toward me anyway. Julian put a hand up to stop him. "Enough, Nico." Julian adjusted his collar. He looked at me with pure disgust. "Aurora, you're always so aggressive. You suffocate everyone around you. Sofia is different. She's sweet. She needs protection." I stared at him. Sweet? That was the illusion she had maintained her whole life. Since we were little, Sofia was always the sweet-talker, bubbling with words that easily melted our parents' hearts. She knew exactly how to play the favorite. As we grew up, that 'sweetness' became her weapon. Whenever she wanted to snatch my resources or steal my clients in the family business, she would play the victim, twisting the truth and crying to Isabella. She effortlessly slandered me, ensuring the family deeply misunderstood and blamed me every single time. If this engagement hadn't been arranged the day I was born, Julian probably would have never been mine at all. And now, she had finally succeeded. She stole my man. "The day we got engaged, you said my independence was what you loved most." Julian avoided my eyes. He turned to Nico. "Watch her. Don't let her go crazy again." Before the door shut, Isabella handed the wooden box to Nico. "Put this in her room," her voice was dead calm. "Tell her she stays locked in until she flips that chip to the blank side and admits she was wrong." Click. The deadbolt slid into place. Locked from the outside. Noon, the next day. I sat at my vanity, wiping the dried blood off my face with a damp towel. A muffled cry came from under the door. "Miss Aurora." My maid Elena’s voice was shaking. "It's all over the news." I walked to the door. "What is?" "They say you had a total mental breakdown," Elena sobbed. "Mrs. Marchetti is downstairs right now. Madam apologized to her face. She brought Miss Sofia out and offered her as the bride instead. Said the Marchettis wouldn't lose out." I gripped the doorknob. "Who started the rumor?" "Madam told the family doctor herself." Elena pressed against the crack of the door. "She even told Mrs. Marchetti that you get violent when you have an episode. That you scratched Miss Sofia's face last night." I shoved the door handle down. Locked tight. They were dead serious. "Elena, find my father," I ordered, keeping my voice steady. "Tell him to come see me." Ten minutes later, Elena rushed back. "Sir said Madam runs the house. He's meeting with the Capos. Said not to disturb him." I leaned my back against the heavy oak door and closed my eyes. The foyer was at the end of the hall. Through the crack, I heard Julian's mother talking to Isabella. "The poor girl," Isabella's voice was smooth. "Aurora’s had mental issues for years. We kept it quiet. We just wanted to find her a good home." Silence in the foyer. "To compensate," Isabella offered, "Sofia will bring double the port percentages. Our East Coast alliance remains solid." Soft laughter from the two women outside. They were trading my sanity for a business deal. A perfect deal. I grabbed a crystal glass and hurled it at the door. It shattered. The chatting outside stopped dead. A beat of silence. Then Isabella spoke again: "You hear that? She's having another episode. This is exactly why we have to send her to Switzerland." I threw myself at the door, pounding my fists against the wood. "I'm not sick!" I screamed down the hall. "I caught Julian and Sofia sleeping together! That's why they locked me up!" Heels clicked down the hallway. Isabella stopped outside my door. "Enough, Aurora!" Her voice was sharp. "Sofia is out here begging for you, and you're still trying to ruin her reputation?" I glared at the locked door. The rage in my chest hit a boiling point. "I didn't scratch her!" I yelled. "She hit the railing on the yacht! While she was screwing Julian!" Chapter 3 "Miss Aurora isn't lying!" Elena’s frantic voice suddenly rang out. "Miss Sofia hurt herself on the yacht! I heard it with my own ears—" Pin-drop silence outside. "Drag her to the foyer," Isabella ordered coldly. The sound of fabric dragging on the floor. Then, a vicious slap. "We pay you to lie for this psycho?" Isabella snapped. "I'm not lying! Mrs. Marchetti, go ask the yacht crew..." Elena cried. Slap! Another heavy hit cut Elena off. The code of silence. Even the maids knew the penalty for breaking it. I slammed my body against the door. "Let her go! Isabella, come after me!" Heels clicked closer. Stopped at my door. "Flip the chip to the blank side. Admit your guilt." Isabella spoke through the wood. "Admit you lied, and I'll let her go." My fingers shook against the doorframe. "I'm not sick. I didn't hurt anyone. I won't confess." "You'd rather watch her bleed than submit." Isabella's words were knives. "Aurora, you really are heartless." "Don't do it, Miss Aurora!" Elena screamed from the foyer, before a guard violently muffled her. Click. The deadbolt unlocked. The door opened. I charged out without a second thought, but Nico grabbed my arm and slammed me hard against the hallway wall. Isabella stepped aside, making sure Mrs. Marchetti got a good look at me. "See?" Isabella pointed at the dried blood on my forehead. "This is one of her episodes. Completely out of her mind." Mrs. Marchetti stepped back in disgust. "Julian certainly can't handle this. We'll do the marriage your way." I glared dead at her. "I caught them cheating! And now they're locking me away!" Mrs. Marchetti's face darkened. Isabella stepped up and grabbed my jaw, forcing my mouth shut. Nico pressed harder, making my shoulder bones pop. "Shut up," he hissed. "Are you trying to get us all killed?" In the foyer, Elena was on her knees on the marble floor. The left side of her face was swollen. She was bleeding from the mouth, trying to crawl toward me. Isabella shot her a cold look. "Encouraging a psycho. She's done. Fired. Throw her off the estate." "Leave Elena alone!" I thrashed violently. Isabella didn't even flinch. She looked at Nico. "Get the family chips. We vote." The wooden box was dropped on the round table. Nico dragged me over. I grabbed a chip, crest-side up, and slammed it onto the table. The front door swung open. Marco walked in. A guard gave him a quick whisper. My father didn't even look at me. He reached into the box. Pulled out a chip. Tossed it onto the table. Blank side up. "Father!" I grabbed his sleeve. "Elena did nothing wrong!" Marco ripped his arm away without an ounce of pity. "Mind your own business. The vote is final." He dropped the words and walked straight into his study. The guards dragged Elena out the front door. Tears streamed down her bruised cheeks. I tried to run after her, but Nico grabbed me around the waist. He carried me back to my room and threw me onto the rug. The door locked again. The familiar wooden box slid in from under the door. "Four blanks. One crest." Nico’s voice echoed through the wood. "In our house, that means you lose." I sat on the floor. I took out the four chips and lined them up on the windowsill. All blank-side up. In my palm, I held the single, lonely crest chip. When I was ten, Isabella put these chips on the table for the first time. "The chips mean fairness," she promised, stroking my hair. "Mommy will always make sure you get justice." Her 'fairness' was a lie from the very beginning. Chapter 3 Elena was gone. I had to get myself out. I found a letter opener in my desk drawer. The bedroom door had a new lock, but the French doors to the balcony were old. After sundown, I pried the latch open and slipped onto the balcony. Sliding down the drainpipe, my left foot twisted when I landed. A sharp pain shot up my ankle. I bit my lip to keep quiet, limping along the estate's stone wall to the back gate. Two guards stood at the iron gate. "Open it," I said, keeping my voice steady. "Donna Isabella sent me on an errand." They took one look at my torn dress and bloody forehead. They turned and hit their radios. Minutes later, blinding headlights swept across the lawn. A golf cart rolled up. Nico and Julian got out. Nico grabbed my wrist. "Where do you think you're going to embarrass us?" I twisted away and clung to the iron gate. "I'm not marrying him. Let me go. I won't touch a single cent of Vitali money." Julian stepped closer, faking concern. "Aurora, don't talk like that. It's dangerous out there. Where would you even go?" "Anywhere is better than here." Nico raised his hand. Smack. He slapped me across the face. "Ungrateful bitch," Nico spat. "This family gave you everything. Now we need you to secure our territory, and this is how you repay us?" I tried to run. Nico grabbed my hair from behind and yanked. My head snapped back in pain. "Give me a hand," Nico looked at Julian. They grabbed me by the arms and dragged me back to the manor. My ankle screamed. Every step felt like walking on glass. They kicked the double doors of the study open. I dropped to my knees on the rug. Isabella sat at her vanity, leisurely trying on diamond necklaces for tomorrow's gala. Sofia was helping her pick earrings. When she saw me thrown in, covered in dirt, Sofia flinched back. Faking fear. I stayed on my knees in front of Isabella. "Let me go. Keep your justice. I won't fight anymore. Please." Isabella took off the diamonds and turned to me. "Running away right before the gala? Are you trying to make a fool out of me?" "If I'm gone, your problem is solved." Isabella slammed her hand on the vanity. "You're throwing away your family for a man? You are a disgrace to the Vitali name!" I looked up. I felt like a joke. "Last night on the yacht. You saw them. With your own eyes. Didn't you?" I asked. Every word deliberate. The study fell dead silent. "What did Elena lie about? How am I the crazy one?" Isabella stood up. She walked over, looking down at my torn dress and bleeding ankle. For a fleeting moment, a mother's raw pain cracked through her cold mask. She crouched down, her hand trembling slightly as she gently brushed the dirty, blood-matted hair from my forehead. "Why must you always fight me, Rory?" she whispered, a suffocating mix of love and frustration in her eyes. "You are my flesh and blood. If you would just lower your head and yield to your sister this once, I could protect you." I stayed on my knees. "Tomorrow? Tomorrow you’re telling everyone at the gala that I’ve lost my mind. What else is there to say?" Isabella froze. Her fingers stiffened against my cheek. Sofia suddenly burst into tears. "I won't marry him! Rory is trying to kill me! I'll just go to a convent tomorrow!" Isabella ignored me. She let go of my face. She walked to Sofia. Pulled her into a sweet, gentle hug. "Don't say that, my sweet girl. Mommy's here." Chapter 4 I gripped the vanity and slowly pulled myself up. "You can't bear to let your golden girl look bad." I pointed at Sofia, tears spilling from my eyes. "So I'm the crazy one. Isabella... do I mean nothing to you?" Isabella pointed a finger right in my face. "Shut your mouth." "You know I'm not sick." I didn't back down. "You know exactly what Sofia and Julian did on that boat. You're just scared the Marchettis will pull out. Scared of losing your East Coast ports. So I'm the scapegoat." The air froze. Julian stepped forward, his voice low. "Aurora, stop talking." I swatted his hand away and looked at my father, who was still sitting on the sofa. "You were there too." I looked Marco dead in the eye. "You saw everything last night." Marco snapped his cigar box shut. Click. It was deafening in the quiet room. "Your mother already gave Mrs. Marchetti her word." Marco twisted the signet ring on his thumb, deliberately looking away. "Changing the story now makes the Vitali family a joke to the whole alliance." There it was. The truth. My life. My sanity. To them, it was just the cost of keeping a lie alive. Isabella's chest heaved. She turned to Nico. "Get the family chips." Sofia gave her sleeve a fake little tug. "Mommy, no, don't do this to Rory..." Isabella shook Sofia off. She marched to the desk, grabbed the wooden box herself, and slammed it onto the coffee table in front of me. The lid popped open. A pile of chips. "I'll ask you one last time." Isabella bored holes into me with her eyes. "Smearing your sister. Disrespecting your parents. Trying to escape the estate. Do you confess?" I stared at the black wooden pieces. "I only tell the truth. I am not guilty." Isabella's mask cracked. Pure rage took over. She spun around, snatched an unopened bottle of whiskey from the bar cart, and hurled it at the wall next to me. "Shut up!" she shrieked. I flinched, trying to dodge it. Nico lunged from behind. He instinctively reached to pull me away. But his hands caught my shoulders—and he yanked me right into the path of the flying bottle. Thud. A sickening crack. The heavy glass bottom smashed directly into my temple. Agony split my skull. My knees gave out. I hit the floor. Sofia screamed and scrambled backward. The bottle hit the ground. Glass shattered. Amber whiskey flooded the rug, mixing with the blood pouring from my head. Isabella's hand froze in mid-air. The color completely drained from her face. "Rory..." A suffocated gasp escaped her lips, carrying real, paralyzing terror. She took a frantic, stumbling step toward me, her hands shaking violently—a mother desperately wanting to gather her bleeding child into her arms. I pressed my hands against the wet rug, trying to get up. My arms wouldn't work. Julian crouched down. He looked at the gash on my head and frowned. "It's deep. Call the family doctor." Sofia let out another sharp cry. She ran over and yanked on Julian's arm. "Mommy... Julian, come here. I'm scared..." The sound of Sofia's trembling voice acted like a master switch. Isabella stopped dead in her tracks. She looked at Sofia's tearful face, and the agonizing love and panic for me were forcibly buried away. Isabella took a deep breath. She looked away from my bleeding head. "Call the family doctor," Isabella commanded coldly. "But she will not be rewarded with the comfort of her bedroom. She needs to learn the price of her stubbornness." Julian stood up. He held Sofia's hand and never looked back at me again. Nico walked over and grabbed my arm, hauling me off the ground. He was rough. Like he was trying to hide the fleeting panic in his eyes. "It's just a scratch," Nico sneered. "You just needed to learn your place." Isabella walked to the door and pulled it open. "Take her to the underground storage room," she gave her final order. "Nobody lets her out without my permission." Nico dragged my limp body down the dark, damp stairs and threw me onto the cold concrete floor. The door slammed shut. Click. The deadbolt locked. My vision blurred out. Blood continued to pool beneath my head, thick and warm, draining the last bit of life from my veins. The freezing air of the storage room pierced my bones, but it was nothing compared to the chill in my heart. My breathing grew impossibly shallow. I couldn't feel my fingers anymore. I was dying, discarded in the dark like trash. Through the fading consciousness, I smiled weakly into the empty abyss. "It is wonderful, Mother. I never have to beg for your favor again. I never have to hold my single crest chip and fight against everyone ever again." Chapter 5 I stood up in the dead silence. No. Scratch that. I floated. The skull-splitting pain? Gone. The biting cold? Also gone. I looked down at the concrete floor. I was still lying there. A pool of dark blood had spread beneath my head. It had already turned a sick, muddy brown. My eyes were half-open. Pupils blown. Dead. I was so dead. No rescue. No last struggle. Like a broken tool, I bled out alone in the basement. Just another casualty in this brutal mafia world. Sharp heels clicked outside, breaking the silence. Isabella. My mother. She stopped at the door. Even through the solid wood, I could feel her rage. Normally? I’d be pounding on that door. I’d argue. I’d fight. I’d scream for the truth. But now? Nothing. Dead silence. And it was pissing Isabella off. She was used to my defiance. To her, my silence was just another provocation. "You think giving me the silent treatment will work?" Isabella sneered, kicking the door impatiently. "Guess that bottle didn't teach you a lesson." I hovered in the air, staring at her coldly. "Mother, ignore her," Nico scoffed. He sounded so annoyed. "She's playing dead to make us panic. She's too damn stubborn. She wouldn't die that easily." Yeah. I was stubborn. Stubborn enough that even after you smashed me to pieces, you still thought I was acting. Isabella scoffed. A rustling sound came from under the door. They started shoving things through the gap. First, the wooden box. Stained with my blood. The chips inside rattled. Next, a confession letter. A complete lie. It said I was a jealous, crazy bitch who willingly gave up her engagement. Finally, a tube of cheap ointment. It rolled right up to my stiff, dead fingers. "Listen to me, Aurora," Isabella commanded through the door, all authority and pressure. "Sign the paper. Put on the ointment. Knock when you've learned your lesson. Until then, no doctor is stepping foot in this house for you." I stared at the unopened ointment. Her final ultimatum. Pathetic. I used to bleed for this family, just to get a single word of praise from her. Outside, Julian stared at the blood seeping under the door. He flinched. Frowned. That was his fiancée’s blood. The woman he claimed to love for three years. The Vitali heiress who was supposed to rule the East Coast ports by his side. Maybe he finally felt a sliver of panic. But then, Sofia pressed against his back. She pressed her soft curves deliberately against his arm. "Julian," she purred, voice sickeningly sweet. "My sister has a terrible temper. Mother is just teaching her the rules. She’s so stubborn, always trying to embarrass us." She reached out and smoothed the lapel of his suit. Her heavy perfume completely drowned out the smell of my blood. "Let's go. We have a gala to prepare for." Julian felt her warmth. He swallowed hard. That tiny bit of guilt? Swallowed whole by a man's lust. "You're right." He turned around without a second thought. He grabbed her waist. "Let's go." Their shadows stretched long under the hallway lights. The dark room fell back into dead silence. Isabella had left her cheap ointment and her fake letter, walking away like a winner. She was so sure the dark and the pain would break me. That I'd eventually cry and beg for mercy. What she didn't know? The only thing left behind that door was a cold, stiff corpse.