Chapter 55 *
Third Person POV
"And she treats me like I'm nothing. Like I'm worse than nothing."
"Oh, Viviana."
"All I asked was for her to fulfill one family obligation. One. And she acts like I'm asking her to sacrifice her life."
"Some people are just born ungrateful," Miranda said gently. "You can't fix that."
"Is that what this is?"
"What else could it be? You've done everything right. You brought her back when she was found. You gave her a home. You tried to help her when she got pregnant."
"I did."
"And she throws it back in your face."
Viviana felt the tears coming again. This time she couldn't stop them.
"Maybe... maybe we're just not compatible. Scarlett and I."
"Oil and water," Miranda said. "Always have been. Even when she was a baby."
"You remember?"
"Of course I remember. You used to talk about it all the time. How Scarlett would scream when you picked her up. How she only wanted the nanny."
"That was just baby stuff."
"Maybe. Or maybe it was a sign of things to come."
Viviana wiped her eyes. Tried to focus on the road.
"At least I have Zelda."
"Exactly!" Miranda's voice brightened. "Thank God for Zelda."
"She's everything Scarlett isn't."
"She's everything a Romano daughter should be. Poised. Beautiful. Knows how to carry herself."
"She does."
"Every family in the Five Families wishes they had a daughter like her."
Viviana felt a warmth spread through her chest. Pride.
"She really is special, isn't she?"
"She's perfect. She knows the rules. Knows her place. Never causes trouble."
"Never."
"And she appreciates everything you've done for her."
"She does appreciate it."
Viviana thought about Zelda. Sweet, grateful Zelda.
Just this morning, Zelda had brought her breakfast in bed. Perfectly arranged on a tray. With a handwritten note.
"Thank you for everything, Mom. I love you."
When was the last time Scarlett had done something like that?
Never. Not once.
"You know what?" Miranda said. "This might actually be a blessing in disguise."
"How?"
"Send Scarlett to the Santoros. It's a good match for someone like her."
"You think?"
"Absolutely. She gets a wealthy husband. Security. Status. Everything she needs."
Miranda paused.
"And that frees up Zelda to marry into a family that actually appreciates what she brings to the table."
Viviana hadn't thought about it that way.
"The Morettis have been asking about her," Miranda continued. "So have the Russos. Both excellent families."
"Better than the Santoros?"
"Much better. No complications. No disabilities to deal with. Just straightforward alliances."
Viviana felt herself relaxing. The tension in her shoulders easing.
"You're right."
"Of course I'm right."
"This actually works out better for everyone."
"Exactly. Scarlett gets set for life. You fulfill your obligation as her mother. Clean hands."
"Clean hands," Viviana repeated.
"Exactly. So if she wants to be ungrateful? If she wants to cut ties? Fine. Let her."
Viviana felt the last of her guilt melting away.
Miranda was right.
She'd done everything a mother should do. More than enough.
If Scarlett couldn't see that... well. That was Scarlett's problem.
"Thank you, Miranda."
"Anytime, honey. That's what friends are for."
"I don't know what I'd do without you."
"Probably stress yourself into an early grave." Miranda laughed. "Now go home. Pour yourself a glass of wine. Spend time with Zelda."
"I will."
"And stop beating yourself up. You're a good mother, Viviana. The best."
Viviana ended the call. Set her phone in the cup holder.
She did feel better now. Lighter.
Miranda always knew exactly what to say.
She thought about Zelda. Waiting at home.
Sweet, perfect Zelda.
The daughter who actually loved her.
Viviana had gotten Zelda seventeen years ago. Right after Scarlett was kidnapped.
Those first few months after Scarlett disappeared... God. They'd been hell.
The police investigation. The media attention. The complete breakdown.
Viviana had stopped eating. Stopped sleeping. Stopped functioning.
The depression got so bad she couldn't get out of bed.
Sal had been desperate. Didn't know what to do.
Then one day he came home with a little girl. Three years old.
"Her name is Zelda," he'd said. "She's from St. Catherine's Home. A private orphanage. Her parents died in a car accident."
Viviana had looked at the girl.
And her breath had caught.
Because this little girl... she looked like Scarlett.
Not exactly. But close enough.
Viviana had picked up the little girl. Held her close.
And for the first time in months, she'd felt something other than pain.
"Hi sweetheart," she'd whispered.
Zelda had wrapped her small arms around Viviana's neck.
"Hi Mommy."
And just like that... Viviana had a daughter again.
She'd poured everything into Zelda. All the love. All the attention. Everything she would have given Scarlett.
Zelda had thrived.
She was sweet. Obedient. Grateful.
Everything a daughter should be.
Sometimes... sometimes Viviana let herself imagine.
What if the hospital had made a mistake? What if they'd switched babies at birth?
What if Zelda was actually her biological daughter, and Scarlett was the orphan?
It would explain so much.
Nineteen years. She'd spent nineteen years raising Zelda. Loving Zelda. Building a life with Zelda.
How was she supposed to just... transfer all that love? All those years?
She couldn't.
It was impossible.