What Happens At The End Of The Noh Family?

After finishing work for the day, I checked my phone and realized I had been added to a group chat called "Catch the Thief." The members were my parents, my brother, Brian Wise, and my sister-in-law, Paulene Wise. I typed a question mark. Paulene replied instantly. [My jewelry is missing. I didn't add you here to accuse you or anything. I just wanted to ask what you think. Honestly, there's no use for other people in our family to take my jewelry, so I've been wondering... I'm not saying you definitely stole it. But if you did, you don't have to deny it. I'm willing to give you a chance to make things right.] My mother said nothing. She just kept tagging me over and over. I let out a small laugh and typed back. [Maybe Brian took it and gave it to his side piece. I'm not saying he definitely has someone else. Just that men his age sometimes start looking around. I'm only guessing here. And if he really did mess up, you could give him a chance to make things right, too.]

I gave Dante Valenti eight years of my life. When I got pregnant by accident, he called off our wedding the night before the ceremony. I rushed to the hotel and found the venue I had spent months decorating transformed into a baptism reception for his illegitimate son. Liliana Moretti wore the reception dress I had chosen. The old Don put a gold chain on her baby and acknowledged him as the heir. Dante had already registered his marriage to her. That day, I made three decisions. I terminated the pregnancy. I booked a one-way ticket out of the country. I swore I would never look back. Months later, he showed up at my door on his knees with a ring. I burned my 800-thousand-dollar wedding gown right in front of him. In the end, he tried to atone with his own death.

Three months after Pete took his foster sister as his mistress, I terminated my marriage, chose to die on paper, and vanished from his life entirely. One quiet morning, I handed my child over to the nannies arranged by the family and walked out of the Rizzuto estate alone. Pete didn’t chase after me that day. He believed I would come back. Once I had calmed down, I would lower my head. The following spring, I was diagnosed with cancer. Standing in the hospital corridor, I suddenly remembered years ago— Pete had taken my hand and said, “You’ll be the finest Donna this Rizzuto family has ever had.” What pulled me back was not Pete. It was a letter from Sicily. Thin paper. Cold, rigid handwriting—the kind favored by old families who had ruled too long to bother with sentiment. “The heir has begun showing signs of emotional instability.” “Recent violent behavior has caused internal concern.” “There is disagreement within the family regarding the current Don’s judgment.” In the mafia world, there is only one reason the elders would bypass a man and reach out to a wife officially presumed dead— When the family itself begins to lose balance. So I returned. To the place I had once fled with everything I had. This time, there were no illusions. I no longer placed any hope in emotion. I was there only to fulfill the obligations of the family. I knew exactly how much time I had left. And I knew exactly what needed to be done. I became a proper Donna.

On my first day back with the Cannon family as the true heiress, I heard the voice of the family’s guardian spirit. “You must stop your father from investing in the West City project. There’s an ancient tomb beneath the site. He’ll lose everything.” I convinced my father, Aaron Cannon, to abandon the project and invest in North City instead. But a factory next to the North City site had a toxic gas leak. Dozens of workers died overnight. Aaron lost his entire fortune to the compensation. While the family was drowning in despair, the guardian spirit spoke again. “Money can be earned again, but it’s a pity your mother will die in a car crash tomorrow when she goes out to borrow money from an old friend.” I immediately stopped my mother, Sally Cannon, from leaving the house. She avoided the car accident but tragically died from a sudden heart attack. With tears streaming down his face, Aaron told me she had been having chest pains for days but had endured the pain. She had only decided to go to the hospital today because she could not bear it any longer. My blood ran cold. By stopping her from going out, I had ultimately caused her death. Overwhelmed with grief, Aaron drank pesticide and died on the spot. Overnight, there was no one left in the family but me and the fake heiress, Pearl Cannon. To repay the debts and support my education, Pearl took on three jobs a day. Then, the guardian spirit spoke to me once more. “Your sister has been dragged into an alley. Go save her now!” I rushed to the location. I arrived breathless and frantic, but I was already too late. My sister lay in a pool of blood. She was not breathing anymore. I thought, ‘Mia Talbert, it’s all your fault! You’re a curse. You should’ve died instead!’ Consumed by despair, I jumped from a tall building and ended my miserable life. When I opened my eyes, I had traveled to the past.

When I was discharged from the psychiatric hospital, my brother and sister-in-law dropped everything to personally pick me up. Even my nephew, who had just finished his college entrance exams, arrived with a box of carrot cake he had waited in line all day to buy. His warm smile was the picture of innocence. “Auntie, congratulations on your discharge. With me here, you’ll never feel lonely again.” To outsiders, we were the perfect family—envied by all and even awarded the title of a local model family. But behind the facade of family bliss lay a very different story. On the very day my brother transferred the last of the family properties to me, I went live on social media. In front of an audience that idolized my so-called perfect family, I boasted about my "accomplishments." I conned my nephew into paying for a spot at an elite school, duped my sister-in-law into stepping into a scandalous club, and tricked my brother into losing everything he had worked for. “My brother has treated me with nothing but kindness. And I can only repay his kindness with betrayal.”

The day I recovered from my mental illness and got discharged, my parents held me in their arms with tears of happiness. My sister gave me a teddy bear and said she had been waiting for me to come home. I comforted my parents who were crying and accepted the gift from my sister. I slowly got used to ordinary life and became the real daughter of the Schmidt family. To show their preference for me, my parents transferred the family business into my name on my sister’s 18th birthday. But I cruelly murdered the family of three who cherished me on this day.