
I Gave My Sister My Abuser
Piper Hayes · Completed · 6.7k Words
Introduction
In my past life, Vivian thought she had what it took. She promised Dad she could handle it, swore up and down she'd make him proud. Six months later, she'd burned through three generations of work and left us with nothing but an empty shell. Our enemies found her eventually. Broke both her legs.
And me? I married Marco Rossi.
Everyone envied me for marrying into one of the most powerful families in the city. What they didn't know was that I was his prisoner. He used me, turned my family's connections into stepping stones for himself, spent my money on his mistresses, used my body as a bargaining chip at his deals.
In the end, Vivian killed me. Jealous of my "perfect life," she dragged herself over on those broken legs and put a bullet in me.
When I open my eyes again, I'm sitting in Dad's study.
The door slams open. Vivian bursts in, cutting me off before I can speak. "Dad! I'm marrying Marco Rossi! Give the family to Sienna!"
I look at her and smile.
This time, I'm going to survive. And I'm going to do a hell of a lot better than just survive.
Chapter 1
Sienna's POV
Being born a Moretti daughter means one thing: the family owns you.
In my past life, Vivian thought she had what it took. She promised Dad she could handle it, swore up and down she'd make him proud. Six months later, she'd burned through three generations of work and left us with nothing but an empty shell. Our enemies found her eventually. Broke both her legs.
And me? I married Marco Rossi.
Everyone envied me for marrying into one of the most powerful families in the city. What they didn't know was that I was his prisoner. He used me, turned my family's connections into stepping stones for himself, spent my money on his mistresses, used my body as a bargaining chip at his deals.
In the end, Vivian killed me. Jealous of my "perfect life," she dragged herself over on those broken legs and put a bullet in me.
When I open my eyes again, I'm sitting in Dad's study.
The door slams open. Vivian bursts in, cutting me off before I can speak. "Dad! I'm marrying Marco Rossi! Give the family to Sienna!"
I look at her and smile.
This time, I'm going to survive. And I'm going to do a hell of a lot better than just survive.
I sit on the couch, turning a gun in my hands. Two documents lie on the table: the family inheritance papers and the marriage contract with the Rossi family.
I'm about to answer when Vivian shoves the door open, her voice shrill. "Dad! I don't want to run things! I want to marry Marco Rossi!"
The old advisor blinks. "Miss Moretti, weren't you saying just last week you wanted to take over?"
Vivian waves him off. "That was just talk. Running the family? Please. Too easy. No challenge at all." She glances at me. "This boring stuff is perfect for Sienna. She's always been a nerd about ledgers and rules anyway."
She turns to Dad. "I want to do something that actually matters. Like landing a man with real power. Marco Rossi clawed his way up from bastard son to heir. That's the kind of guy worth my time. Those women who marry in and get treated like dirt? That's on them. They just play dress-up and cry about everything. Of course they get walked all over."
"A smart woman knows how to play a man. I'll make him need me. I'll get my hands on everything the Rossis have. Once Moretti and Rossi are united, who's gonna dare touch us?"
She looks at me. "Sienna, you just stick to running the family. When you're drowning in politics and turf wars, you can come begging. Maybe if I'm feeling generous, I'll let you serve drinks at one of my parties."
I smile. "Sure. Can't wait."
Dad stays quiet for a moment, then slides the marriage contract toward Vivian. "If that's what you want."
Vivian snatches up the papers and practically floats out of the room.
The advisor looks at me. "Miss Sienna, you..."
"I'll take the family." I pocket the gun and stand. "Starting today."
Three days later, Vivian marries into the Rossi family. And I'm standing outside a rundown casino in the South District.
This is Dad's first test. "You handle this place, and the family's yours."
I spent three days and nights studying it. This casino sits too far from our core territory, management's been a disaster for years, and Dad basically wrote it off. Now some local thugs have taken over and don't answer to anyone.
I push the door open. A few guys slouch around a card table.
One looks up. "Who the hell are you? Lost?"
"I'm a Moretti. Second daughter." I walk in. "I'm taking over this casino."
Silence. Then laughter.
"Ha! Mr. Moretti sent a little girl?" The guy stands, reaching for my face. "Tell you what, sweetheart. Keep us company a while, and maybe we'll talk."
I grab his wrist and twist. The crack sounds clean. He screams. I kick his knee and he drops.
I look around at every face in the room.
"New management," I say. "Starting now."
I tear down the old rules and rebuild from scratch. Two weeks later, profits triple.
Dad can't stop grinning. At the family meeting, he announces I'll officially take over all Moretti operations.
But I know this is just the start.
Time to think bigger. Like tonight's auction. Every major family in the city will be there. The people with real power. The ones who tore us apart in my last life. All in one room.
The auction's at an estate up north.
I barely pick up my champagne when I spot Vivian and Marco.
She's clinging to his arm, showing him off to the crowd. When she sees me, she makes a beeline over.
"Sienna!" Sugar-sweet voice. "God, it's been forever! How's the whole family thing going? I heard you've been swamped. Gang wars, internal drama, dealing with all those old-timers..." She sighs. "Why put yourself through that? Wouldn't it be easier to find a good man to take care of you? But I guess not everyone gets that lucky."
Marco nods politely. But while Vivian talks, I catch him frowning.
Marco's a bastard son. He hates anything that threatens what he's built.
And Vivian? She runs her mouth too much. In a family like that, she's way too good at making enemies.
Wonder how long she'll keep this up.
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