In Italy, there is a very powerful family, the Cappellaris. Francesco and Flora Rizzo de Cappellari are husband and wife; she, like all women in the mafia world, is married to create partnerships and end wars.

Francesco is a cruel, ruthless man, greatly feared in the underworld. He married his wife for love, but she was in love with another man. This made their marriage difficult, and Francesco had many lovers, including Milena Di Pisa.

Francesco had children with this woman, his young sons, Adrian, Luciano, and a girl named Francesca. He was very happy about that, but then his wife also became pregnant with a girl; now, he had two daughters on the way. While it was true that Flora did not love him at first, she learned to, but her lover was in charge of driving a wedge between them.

The man mistreated and insulted his wife throughout the pregnancy. The fights... no matter what his wife did, he always argued with her.

Flora cried oceans because of her husband's abuse; only for a time, he treated her well and was affectionate with her until his mistress poisoned his soul, and there went the peace of the poor wife.

The months went by, and the woman couldn't take it anymore; the suffering was too great. There was no warm love anymore, only mistreatment and yelling when he arrived drunk.

"Where are you, you filthy bitch, where are you, you wretch, ah... there you are, you and that bastard." He would yell angrily every time he saw her.

"You're drinking again, Francesco, when will you ever stop?" said the woman fearfully.

"Shut up, you filthy bitch; I'm sure that bastard is your lover's daughter, that damn... I know it, I know it all," he said, slapping his wife. The poor woman defended herself, but her heart was poisoned. Her life was a living hell because of Milena, who only wanted to get rid of Flora.

"Enough Francesco, she is our little girl, I would never betray you, please," the poor woman pleaded, but he never believed her, he never did.

The months went by, and she chose to hide when he was drinking. She couldn't talk to her family because he had forbidden it, and seeing that her father did not care about her feelings when he forced her into marriage, she decided to keep quiet.

Flora made many blankets for her little girl and even had a necklace made with her jewels; she ordered a pure gold chain with a locket that had a black diamond in the middle; it was her grandmother's, and she gave it to her, and from then on, she had it made to give to her daughter; it was beautiful.

The poor woman endured neglect and abuse, although sometimes he would give her small moments of affection, crumbs that later cost her more anger; jealousy had driven that man crazy, and he seemed to suffer from bipolarity because of his mood swings.

The pregnancy continued, and the girl was finally born; the baby was identical to her mother. Francesco was happy, and for a few months, he treated his poor wife better. She also let herself be loved and cherished by the man; she forgave him, and for the sake of her daughter, she continued to be affectionate with him, but his other woman had also given birth, and the girl was also identical to her mother, beautiful like her.

The man was happy, not only because his women had given birth but also because they were girls, and in the mafia, that means power, to make deals and use them as bargaining chips.

The wife's happiness did not last long since his mistress managed to continue to poison Francesco's heart.

For seven years, the woman suffered, as always, humiliation and reproach; he also continued to be jealous, and his mistress had sown the seed of doubt in him, although he still loved his daughter. Little Fiorella had won everyone's hearts, although doubt was sown in his heart by that evil woman.

One horrible and tragic night, Francesco arrived home upset after his mistress gave him alleged paternity test results that she had done behind his back, and there was a horrible lie, and that was that the little girl was not his daughter, and he corroborated them days later by ordering new tests with one of his men.

Francesco arrived at his house like a demon and then began to insult his wife.

The man's eyes were red with anger, and he was not thinking straight.

"Flora, where are you, you damn traitor, where are you?" shouted the man.

"What's wrong, honey, why are you like this?" asked the young woman, somewhat frightened.

"You're a damn... you betrayed me; that bastard is not my daughter." He shouted, and she denied it, crying. He threw the tests at her, and she only tried to tell him that it was a lie.

"Honey, please, you have to believe me, do them again; those tests are fake," she cried inconsolably.

"You damn liar." He threw two more tests at her; that evil woman had planned with Francesco's trusted man to manipulate the other two tests he had ordered.

"I love you, and I swear I'm not lying." The man grabbed the woman by the neck and threw her to the ground; the little girl watched everything from the stairs and ran to hug her mother.

"Mommy, don't leave me, Mommy, I love you," said Fiorella.

"My baby, be good and brave, remember that I will always love you, I love you, my girl," she shouted.

The man dragged his wife as she cried, clinging to her daughter, took her out of the mansion and put her in the car.

"My love, please, what are you going to do?"

"Shut up, you wretch, even though she's not my daughter, I'll still raise her to use as a bargaining chip later, but you will pay for your betrayal."

No matter how much she begged, the man did not listen, and then hours later, he arrived at the mansion, all disheveled, where his daughter was crying like crazy for her mother.

"You're mean," shouted the little girl.

"And you're a bastard," he said and went to his office to drink like a wretch.

Ten years later, beautiful Fiorella had become a beautiful young lady. She was as pretty as her mother had been. Yes, after that horrible night, her mother didn't return. They said she had died of an illness, but Fiorella knew it was a lie.

Everyone came to see the little girl and offered their condolences, but she only cried. From that point on, the girl grew timid and withdrawn, always kind and obedient for fear that her father would kill her, too, like he did her mother.

Within a year, her father remarried a woman named Milena, although she had already moved into the house with all her children within a month of her mother's death.

Milena was mean and cruel to little Fiorella, and her stepsister, Francesca, was no different—she was as wicked as her mother.

Fiorella was miserable, living a life tormented by her stepsister. Her stepbrothers were five and six years older than she, and they weren’t taken in by their mother, always treating Fiorella well when Milena wasn’t around. However, for Fiorella's sake, they treated her horribly in front of their mother and Francesca.

And so the girl grew. Both she and Francesca were instructed in every activity imaginable—ballet, music, languages, etiquette. Both were being prepared to be excellent wives, although Francesca wasn’t good at any of it. She considered them all to be insignificant, wanting only to be the wealthy wife of one of her father's associates. Why bother learning such stupid things?

Fiorella, on the other hand, was a very dedicated student, a true lady of society, and for that reason, she was the center of attention. Both sisters held the same social standing, they were beautiful, and they had beautiful bodies, but Fiorella grew up to be a gem in both education and manners. That said, she hated that world and detested violence.

Upon turning seventeen, the son and heir of one of the Cosa Nostra bosses set eyes on her. The young man was handsome and gallant, and he wanted only the best for himself. Francesca was a frivolous and vain young woman—self-centered and spoiled. At seventeen, she was in her final year of school before university. Fiorella, on the other hand, was already in her first year.

An exception had been made for her due to her intelligence, and that was why she was further along in her schooling. She wasn’t just beautiful, she was also intelligent and studying business along with anything related to numbers. She loved it, along with computers and everything about technology.

Beautiful Fiorella had captured Italian heir Reginald Fabrizzi's heart. He had fair skin, tall, green eyes, blond hair, and a well-built body—a true Adonis.

Reginald had been in love with her from the moment he saw her and began to court her. The man was truly in love… The first thing he did was obtain permission to enroll in the university with her. The young woman didn’t look at him. She was extremely shy, and her clothing was very conservative—knee-length skirts and sweaters over collared, short-sleeved shirts, along with wide-leg jeans and turtlenecks or long dresses with sweaters. The girl's style was elegant yet modest, and even still, she was beautiful.

The beautiful girl had fair skin, blue eyes, and light brown hair. She was truly an angel in both beauty and demeanor, undoubtedly a treasure in that dark world.

Fiorella:

Day after day, the young man approached her, showering her with attention, surprises, and red roses. Every day, he brought her a beautiful red rose, as it was one of her favorites.

"Hello, little one, beautiful as ever, as well as pretty," the handsome young man asked.

"I'm very well, young man, and thank you for the compliment," she said with a smile.

"It’s not a compliment; you are a beautiful bambina,” he replied with a smile.

“Here, take this little rose, which is not as beautiful as you, but it accentuates your beauty." The young woman sighed and smiled.

“Thank you again, but I must be honest with you; you are very handsome, but…” she said hesitantly.

"Thank you for the compliment," he said, and she smiled shyly.

"As I was saying, I come from a family where I'm not allowed to speak to anyone unless they’re my fiance, and that is decided by my family." He smiled. The girl's values were amazing, and that made him fall even more in love with her. He was four years older than her, and he wanted her as his queen.

The young man was aware of her customs and had already made his move by asking for the girl's hand in marriage from her father in the company of his own.

"I know who you are, and I've spoken to your father so that one day you can be my wife." He was direct, and her eyes widened as she smiled.

“Like they say… you are from that cruel world,” she asked unintentionally. Although shy, sometimes words would escape her lips that made her wonder if she had actually meant to say them out loud.

"You are direct, my beautiful little one, but yes, although not yet, and besides, I have no choice. We would get married after I’ve taken my place as boss, and that’s still a few years away," he said, and she smiled.

"So, the decision has been made, but I don’t like violence. I detest it." He touched her cheek, and she pulled away.

"Don’t worry, I would never hurt you. You know… I've liked you for a long time, but well, I was just waiting for the right moment, and that time is now," he said flirtatiously.

"Well, but we could get to know each other before any kind of courtship, besides the fact that we have to be married for anything more." Her smile was genuine.

"You are perfect, my beautiful little one."

From that moment on, he began to get to know her better. He continued to give her gifts, from small teddy bears to larger ones. Six months passed before their first kiss, and that day was the most special one for him.

The young man would visit her at home and would also take her to and from school. Everything was so beautiful between them. However, this created a silent enemy for them, someone who couldn't stand little Fiorella. Her stepsister, Francesca, was attracted to Reginald and wanted him for herself.

"Mom, it’s not fair that she gets to marry him, and I’m stuck with Danilo! No, I want him," Francesca protested angrily.

"Calm down, my love. You asked me for Danilo, and we got him for you. How is it that you now want this young man?" her mother said.

"I want him, and that's that, Mom. I want that man for myself," she said hysterically.

From that moment on, a plan began to take shape to destroy Fiorella.

Fiorella's father didn’t love her; in fact, he hated her, even more so because she was the spitting image of that traitor. He had never shown her any affection, only to his other daughter. However, he wouldn’t give in to his daughter's whims; he had given his word, and business was business.

Francesca:

The young and beautiful woman, now a woman, continued her courtship with the most wonderful man who could exist; he was truly handsome, kind, caring, detailed, protective, and loved to hold her hand. His thing was kissing her all the time; he was such a surreal man, and they both adored each other.

"How is the most beautiful pianist of all?" He asked and smiled after a performance of hers.

"Good, and how is the man I love most in the world?" She said, and he took the bouquet of roses that was behind his back and gave them to her.

"Now happier than ever, my little beautiful one, you really don't know how much I love you." She hugged him, and he kissed her with so much love.

"I don't know what I would do without you; I really don't know, my beautiful Regi..." She murmured on his lips.

"Let's go home; we have a date with heaven today..." She loved to lie in the garden watching the starry sky after every achievement, and he knew it and prepared a place for her for that: a blanket and several red roses around.

"Come on, love, sometimes I wonder, really, are you real, are you... so... Mine" She whispered.

"Completely yours, my little beauty, I would never make you suffer or anything like that." He promised.

"I'm a thousand percent sure of that, my love... My one and only true love." They both went to her mansion and went into the garden; there the scene awaited them; she lay down, and he, at her side, took her hand and kissed it. This man is too perfect.

When they were like that, the world would stop; the only person who had given her love was her father, and feeling his love made her so happy that it stunned her.

"I love you, my only princess..."

He said, Fiorella when she was lying in the garden, accompanied by him, she did not speak to her mother, she said everything in her mind, she did not feel comfortable; it was something so personal, she only looked at the ground, and he held and kissed her hand, placed a rose on her forehead and slowly lowered it to her lips and then kissed her.

That wonderful scene was watched by a pair of envious eyes that coveted Fiorella's place.

The owner of those eyes was, of course, Francesca; she desired that man, and she was going to have him, no matter what it cost; that was what she was thinking at that moment.

In their first year together, he gave her a rose garden in her room and a giant teddy bear made of roses; that man loved her, bought her a beautiful bracelet and organized a romantic dinner.

The love of these two young people was so beautiful, so real, so magnificent, so full of magic.

Fiorella's sister cultivated her hatred, and the humiliations toward the young woman did not stop; now she made them scold and punish her so that she would not go out with her boyfriend.

Beautiful Florence just cried, though her whole life had been like that.

Florence's mansion was beautiful, enormous; there was an impressive garden and roses everywhere; in one part of the garden, she had beautiful hidden sunflowers; they were her mother's favorites. Her name was Flora, and she adored flowers; she remembers her as delicate as a flower.

"Hello idiot, you're a fly on the wall, you live deceiving everyone with your innocent face, and you're rolling around with that one in the garden." Her sister told her.

"What are you talking about? That's a lie; he and I don't do anything wrong; excuse me." The girl said timidly, but her sister took her by the arm.

"Where are you going, you shitty bastard? I'm going to go to Dad and tell him that you're a shameless hussy." Francesca pushed Fiorella, and at that moment Milena appeared.

"What's going on? Why are you here? Why all this commotion?" Francesca's mother asked.

"I'm just reprimanding this slut, who was doing piggish things in the garden," Francesca said.

"You're as much of a bitch as your mother, walk with me, you damn, shameless girl." Milena spoke and took sweet Fiorella to the basement, threw her to the floor, and closed the door, then left the young woman crying in that darkness.

This was always the case, and her father did nothing because he hated and loathed her; he wanted to hurt her and make her suffer.

Yes, our sweet little girl's life was sad, very sad, but it was about to get worse; she didn't know all the suffering that lay ahead.

The young woman said nothing; when she managed to be without punishments, she enjoyed the company of her beloved fiance; there was no other man for her but him, he was her world, and when she was with him, it was all worth it.

"My little beauty, I was dying to see you; they told me you had a week full of commitments; did you miss me?" The young woman threw herself into his arms and hugged him tightly.

"I missed you so much, my love, don't let me go." She said, the kiss that broke out between them was beautiful, too perfect, like that beautiful relationship.

The years went by, and the man also began to enter the world of the mafia, alcohol, parties, everything came along, sometimes he did not see the young woman, and there they took the opportunity to lock her up, but he always kept her in mind.

They had been together for two years, and the happiness between them continued; their love was unique, and even Francesca's envy had no effect.

The envious woman seduced her brother-in-law and put things in his head, but he thought it was sibling jealousy and paid no attention, but everyone knows that doubt is the beginning of all endings.

The young woman continued her studies and became more beautiful, more determined, more perfect.

The beautiful young woman had known the man she now loves madly for almost three years; things were getting less and less; when she turned twenty, the wedding would take place, and Francesca would never allow it; that man would be hers.