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Not Your Mafia Fairy Tale
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My ex-husband Giacomo and my brother's widow, Zoya, are the reason I went to prison. Seven years. Gone. I crunched leaves on the way to Carlo's grave and—of course—they're there. Together. Right in front of his headstone. "Jessica?" His voice shook. Fake surprise. He wiped his eye like that meant something. "I've been looking for you for seven years. I thought you... were gone. "Where have you been all these years? Why didn't you ever contact me?" I said nothing. He kept going. "You're still mad about what happened? I had my reasons." 'Reasons?' I looked at him. Almost laughed. He and Carlo's woman killed Carlo. Framed me, kicked me out, and sent me to prison. He took half my life. And now he's talking about reasons—standing at Carlo's grave. But seven years of torment burned everything down. Love. Hate. All of it.
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Not Your Mafia Fairy Tale Chapter 7
The Rossi council hall sat low on a North Chicago hill, all dark wood and cold authority.A massive mahogany table split the room, black leather chairs lining both sides.Portraits of old Dons stared down from the walls. Carlo's hung at the end—calm eyes, still owning the space.That morning, the hall was packed. Senior capos, soldati, out-of-town reps from every major Family.Enzo stood beside me, fingers steady on mine—quiet backup.Right at nine, Salvatore pushed the doors open. Two soldati dragged in Giacomo, cuffed and looking wrecked. Hair wild, eyes hollow. The swagger? Gone. Just fear now. And spite in his eyes.Zoya sat off to the side in the witness chair, pale as hell, fists clenched. She was one of our key witnesses."The tribunal starts now." Salvatore stood at the head of the table, voice rough but grounded. "Today we clear Don Carlo's name, settle blood debts, and bring honor back to this Family."Giacomo jerked his head up, shouting, "I'm innocent! Outsiders too
Not Your Mafia Fairy Tale Chapter 6
The Valentino Bar hugged a dead dock in South Chicago, neon bleeding red. Smelled like whiskey and cigars inside.I sat in a corner booth, thumb tracing my cold glass.Matteo Valentino leaned back across from me, cigar dangling from his fingers. Smoke curled around his eyes—sharp, locked in.Enzo had set this up. It was a key move against Giacomo."Jessica," Matteo said, flicking ash into his drink like it was nothing. "Enzo says you got dirt on Giacomo. Says you're callin' in that favor from ten years back." He paused. "I owed Carlo. But my Family don't do charity."I slid the brown envelope over. Inside—Salvatore's ledgers. Panama accounts. Courtesy of Zoya."The guns Giacomo sold you were thirty percent powder. Thirty. That shootout with the rival Family? Most of your guys got smoked 'cause the barrels kicked back. Right?"Matteo's face dropped. He flipped through the pages. Slower. Knuckles white. "I knew it. He blamed my men. Said we mishandled them.""There's more," I sai
Not Your Mafia Fairy Tale Chapter 5
The road through the north grove was tight, quiet. Tires crunched over dead branches in the dusk.I rolled the brass key Salvatore gave me—Carlo's old backdoor key. Guess he saw the danger coming.We stopped a hundred meters out. Enzo and I changed into blue maintenance uniforms, grabbed the toolbox, and walked up.The gate guard was smoking, leaning lazy against the post. He glanced at the fake work order, brow pinched."Pipes, huh? Stay outta the study.""Chill, Richie. We ain't here to snoop." Enzo tossed him a smoke.While Richie lit up, we slid inside.The smell hit first—old wood, dust, something sour. The phonograph was still in the corner. Dust thick on the carved banister. Seven years, and nothing had moved. Just felt hollow now."I got him. You take the study," Enzo said low, then took the stairs with the toolbox.I looped around. The study door hung half open, creaked when I pushed.Everything looked untouched—mahogany desk, shelves, fireplace. The mantel cover was
Not Your Mafia Fairy Tale Chapter 4
The bookstore sat jammed between two alleys, easy to miss.Perfect.I pushed inside. Salvatore was crouched behind a shelf, sorting books. He froze, eyes sharp—then saw me and eased up. He flicked a look at the door."Corleone got eyes on the alley?""Yeah. We're clean." I ran my fingers over dusty detective novels.Carlo loved this place. He'd come in for one book and stay an hour. Salvatore used to joke, "Don could stretch buying a book into half a day of auditing."Salvatore reached low and pulled out two beat-up hardcovers.[Rossi Family Financial Records]. No dates."I copied them," he said, low, shoving them at me. "After Giacomo took over, he locked the real books in his office. What he shows us is fake. This is real. Everything dirty he's done is in here."I opened the first ledger. Yellowed pages. Neat handwriting. Every entry dated and precise. On May 12, 2023, a red line jumped out:[Delivered 100 firearms to the Valentino Family. Received $2,000,000. Not recorded
Not Your Mafia Fairy Tale Chapter 2
The wind cut through my collar. Straight to the bone.I thought about that night. Seven years back.Third week married to Giacomo. He said he and Carlo were hitting the docks. "Family business."Then the gunshots came through the phone.My heart dropped. I didn't tell anyone. I just went."Giac
Not Your Mafia Fairy Tale Chapter 1
My fingers brushed Carlo's headstone. Ice-cold.I fixed the white chrysanthemums.Then Zoya's heel slammed down in front of the grave.Mud splashed the petals. Ugly. On purpose."Well, well. Still alive after all these years?"She latched onto Giacomo's arm, smiling sharp enough to cut.'Carlo
Not Your Mafia Fairy Tale Chapter 3
The chandelier cut the room in half. Light on black suits. Sharp. Cold.Cigars burned thick. Champagne floated sour. Every Family stood tight, whispering deals that sounded like threats.Under Giacomo, the Rossi Family had been bleeding for two years. This summit was his play—alliances, territory,
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