THE MAFIA'S CHRONICLES: the Dead wife's revenge.

“Dante, please don’t… Please. She is pregnant, please.” Don Lorenzo’s voice cracked. His hands were zip-tied behind him, and two men locked onto his arms, holding him back as he fought to tear himself away.

Victor stood firmer, positioning the rifle perfectly against Teresa’s skull. With a flick of his finger click! the rifle sounded softly. A bullet moved into place, ready to fire. His finger rested right on top of the trigger. He glanced at Dante, hesitation etched on his face.

“Dante, please, Teresa is having a baby…” Don Lorenzo cried, still thrashing against the two men's stronghold, tears rolling down his cheeks.

Aria lay on the cold floor, staring at the bodies in a pile of blood. “Leo.” Her voice broke. 

Pregnant. Baby. The words hit her; her gaze flickered up to her mother. Mom’s pregnant.

“I said, do it,” Dante glared at Victor.

Victor took a deep breath, his grip tightening, ready to shoot. Teresa’s lips trembled, tears etching a hopeless track down her cheek as she squeezed her eyes shut.

Aria jolted up. “Please don’t... not her, please!” she screamed, making Victor halt. She surged forward, but a pair of strong hands grabbed her from behind, yanking her back hard.

“Please… Valerio, please stop him… I have given you everything. Please don't do this, I beg of you,” Don Lorenzo yelled, turning to Don Valerio, who sat watching in amusement. The two men still restrained him, gripping his arms. “Please,” Don Lorenzo added, his voice trembling as his tears now poured freely.

Don Valerio simply smiled.

“Wow, this is epic,” Dante smiled, taking two steps from where he was standing. “The legendary Don Lorenzo begging for mercy,” he said, walking toward him.

“Dante, please don't do this…. you promised,” Aria stammered, trying to muffle her sobs while the strong hands still wrapped around her held her back.

Now standing behind Don Lorenzo and the two men, Dante smiled. His gaze traveled to Don Valerio, who leaned back in his chair and nodded. That was all Dante needed. He turned back to Victor, their eyes locked, and gave a single nod. Aria watched and understood instantly. Her gaze jumped back to her mother. Teresa’s lips moved in a whisper: “I love you.”

A tear rolled down Aria's cheek; her lips parted slowly. “No—no!”

POW!

Victor pulled the trigger. Thud. Teresa’s body fell to the floor. Aria flinched at the sound; her body stiffened, the fight leaving her as she stared at her mother’s lifeless form. Her pulse raced, the sound of her heartbeat thrashing in her ears. The man behind her loosened his grip; her legs weakened, barely holding her up.

Don Lorenzo collapsed to his knees. Aria stumbled back as the man behind her let go. A sudden coldness hit her to the core; her whole body went numb. The room went silent. Her brain stopped, her tears ceased, and the scent of gunpowder and blood filled the air.

Dante pulled back the slide on his gun. A sharp click filled the room. Aria shuddered at the familiar sound and looked up. Dante took two steps forward, stopping just behind Don Lorenzo, and pressed the gun to his head.

Aria blinked, fresh tears trailing down; with low sobs, her lips trembled. “Please don’t…” Her hands clamped by her sides, clutching her dress. “Dante… please, you have gotten what you want,” she said, her voice choking.

“For a change, let me keep my word,” he responded, lowering his gun. Victor stepped forward, undoing the restraints on Don Lorenzo’s arms.

Don Lorenzo barely forced himself up. He stumbled toward Aria, eyes red with tears. Each step seemed uncertain. He opened his arms, inches from her. Aria’s breath hitched, tears flowing freely. Her jaw loosened slightly, lips parted slowly. “Da—”

POW!!

The bullet pierced his skull. Blood splattered onto Aria’s face and neck. Dante stood smirking, his gun held high.

This was the brutal reality of the Italian mafia underworld. For a century, ten mafia empires had ruled Italy with such terror that the government eventually stopped fighting them and started negotiating. A council was formed, the DECA FAMILIA. one with rules that allowed the families to run their illegal empires quietly; a decision never about justice, only stability.

That stability had just been blown apart.

The decade-long feud between the Vallenis and the D’Amores had finally erupted, and Aria was caught in the middle. She had dreamed of quiet mornings and a life chosen freely, to be a normal woman, not a princess to an empire built on fear, and certainly not a pawn in a game of power she never wanted to play. But in this world, dreams were a liability. This was the cost of choosing family duty over her own heart and happiness.

And now, she was paying for it.

Tied to a chair in Dante Valleni’s room, Aria stared into the dark. Dante was the empire’s volatile second son, a man who made even the monsters of the underworld flinch. The door creaked open with a low groan. Dante walked in, followed by a guard holding a half-full bucket of water. Dante dragged a chair forward, spun it to face Aria, and sat down.

Only inches away, he stared at her, his expression unreadable. Aria stared back, her body stiff and her eyes unfocused. Blood dried on her neck; her wrists burned against the rope. Her heart pounded so loudly it felt as though Dante could hear it if he leaned any closer.

“Aria D’Amore,” Dante smirked, leaning back. “My lovely wife.”

She remained silent, her mind blank and eyes narrowed. Her brain was still failing to process what had just happened.

“Damn,” he said, his gaze sweeping over her body, bound to the chair in nothing but her undergarments. “You look gorgeous.”

Dante stood and stepped closer. His shadow stretched over her as he roughly grabbed her jaw. She flinched.

“Hmmm, let’s wash up,” he muttered, stepping back. He blinked at the guard beside him.

SPLASH.

Cold water slammed into her face. She didn’t blink. Her gaze remained fixed on the empty chair before her as water streamed down her body.

“There you go,” Dante smiled, taking a step back as he took in her blood-free face and wet body. “Get out,” he ordered. The guard obeyed instantly.

Dante crossed to a table on the other side of the room, his back to her. “Don’t tell me you thought the Valleni and D’Amore treaty would ever work.” He turned, a syringe in his hand, taking slow, deliberate steps toward her. “What happened was inevitable.”

“Do you know what this is?” he asked, studying the syringe. Aria remained numb, eyes still locked on the chair.

“We are going to consummate our marriage,” he said calmly. “More like, I’m going to claim you by force and take what you’ve been guarding.”

He crouched before her. “But I would like to spice things up,” he continued. “You see, this is a special serum. It will stimulate your sexual desire tenfold.” Leaning closer, he whispered, “And I’m going to enjoy fucking Don Lorenzo’s daughter. The interesting part is, you’re going to beg me to fuck you harder.”