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"You will always be my daughter. But being my daughter and being worthy of my name are two different things." My father, Don Joseph Marchetti, dragged my mother and me through the servants' entrance of our own family manor. In front of every council elder, he unveiled Holly-his secret daughter he had hidden for years under the title of goddaughter. He placed our ancestral emerald heir ring on Holly's hand and announced three succession trials. Blood would not decide the heir. Performance would. The losing daughter would be struck from the family register and exiled.