CHAPTER ELEVEN

Amore flashed a smirk at her step-mother and walked into the living room. Mary was there, dressed in plain, lukewarm-colored clothes, scrubbing the floors near Lisa’s elegant armchair. She looked more like a maid than the lady of the house.

“Mom!”

Amore rushed over, snatched the rag from her, and snapped, “What are you doing?”

“Cleaning. The maids took the day off,” Mary replied calmly.

“Then it can wait,” Amore said, helping her mother into a chair. “Are you okay? Tell me, Mom, where does it hurt? Have you seen the doctor? What did he say? Huh? Tell me.”

Mary smiled softly. “Come on now, you ask too many questions. I just felt a little dizzy this morning, that’s all. It was nothing. I’m fine.”

Seeing that her mother’s color looked normal, Amore finally exhaled in relief.

“Mrs. Powers, Mrs. Golden, dinner is served,” a maid called from the dining room.

Amore helped Mary up and guided her to the dining area, where a lavish feast had already been arranged. George was seated at the head of the table, waiting for them. Amore greeted him politely.

He looked clearly disappointed that she had come alone. “Bring Tony next time. Family should spend more time together.”

She nodded quietly. His expression softened a little. “Let’s eat.”

“Amore, have some more. I asked the chef to make all your favorites,” Lisa said warmly, smiling as if she owned the place.

Even after so many years, her tone still irritated Amore. But Mary, as always, didn’t seem to mind.

“Lisa is always so thoughtful of you,” Mary said with a grin.

“Of course. We’re family,” Lisa replied, her smile tight.

“Thank you, Lisa,” Amore said, keeping her voice polite.

Lisa leaned forward and served more on her plate. “I asked you to come because I need a favor,” she began smoothly. “Things haven’t been good lately. The Moretti Group is struggling. Your mother’s health isn’t great—she’s always on medication. And your brother is young. He needs money to start a business, to get married, and build a family. You’re the eldest, Amore. You can’t just sit back and do nothing.”

Amore understood immediately. Her mother’s illness was just an excuse to lure her back home. They needed money.

“I have some money saved up,” she said evenly. “If you want, I can send it to Dad later today.”

Lisa shook her head quickly. “That little bit won’t do much. You need it too. The smart thing to do is let the Powers invest in the Moretti Group. If things pick up, we’ll all benefit—including you. You could gain more standing there. What do you think?”

She kept glancing at Mary, silently urging her to agree.

Mary nodded gently. “Lisa is right, dear. Just ask Tony.”

Amore frowned. “Mom, I don’t have a say in company matters. Even if I asked, he wouldn’t agree. You’ll have to find another way.”

George’s expression darkened. “Why not? You’re his wife. He wouldn’t back you up?”

Amore let out a dry laugh. “Back me up? He can’t even stand me. Once he brings David in, I’m out—and Samantha’s in. When that happens, I become the ex.”

George’s glare hardened. “What? If you divorce him, you’re on your own. I don’t need a daughter who’s of no use to me.”

The words hit Amore like a slap.

She had always known that compared to her stepbrother, Stefan, she was just an extra—an afterthought.

Lisa might have had a kind face, but her heart was cold and calculating. She was two-faced and cruel, always finding new ways to make Amore suffer.

As a child, Lisa never let her sit at the dining table. She made her do extra chores and often locked her in the storage room when she was in a bad mood.

Worst of all, Lisa paraded her own wealth in front of her—designer clothes, jewelry, handbags—all while Amore wore the same faded dresses year after year.

She never ate much, afraid she would outgrow the few clothes she had.

George never cared enough to notice, much less offer a single kind word.