All Chapters of Falling for the Mafia’s Lie: Chapter 1 - Chapter 9

9 Chapters

Chapter 1

Ashford POVI could hear the whispers around me, soft and curious.The immigration officers murmured about my marriage, about him—the man who supposedly adored me.They couldn’t understand why I would walk away from someone who loved me so fiercely.I tugged at the corner of my lips, letting a hint of mockery curl there.Back in college, everyone envied the way Dominic Conti loved me.Back then, I was the golden girl of my school’s shooting team.And Dominic Conti was the future heir of a powerful mafia family.People said he was distant and restrained.Cold, disciplined, untouched by desire.His private life was famously clean—no scandals, no women, no one allowed within arm’s reach.Until that networking gala.That was when he met me.He fell in love at first sight.From then on, he pursued me obsessively.Jewelry came without price tags.Fireworks lit the sky for three nights straight, announcing his love to the world.Once, I joked about craving the chocolate croissants from a bak

Chapter 2

I woke up that morning to shouting.Half-asleep, I pushed the window open.In the middle of the family compound—a place reserved for people connected to Dominic’s organization—a woman was clutching a man’s coat, her face twisted with rage and heartbreak.“I’ve given your family more than ten years of my life!” she screamed.“You swore you’d love me forever, and now you’re sleeping with some cheap mistress behind my back?”The neighbors froze for a second, then erupted into whispers and judgment.The man’s face darkened. He grabbed her arm roughly.“Are you done humiliating me? Get inside. Now.”I stood there, stunned.A warm hand suddenly covered my ears from behind.“Arabella,” Dominic said softly, his voice close. “Don’t listen to that filth.”I didn’t turn around.“Tell me,” I asked quietly, “do all men change?”His body stiffened.He turned me to face him, his dark eyes unwavering—too steady, too sure.“I don’t know about other men,” he said. “But I do know this—I won’t betray you.

Chapter 3

I pushed the door open—and stopped.Ava Ashford was sitting on the couch in silk pajamas, snacks spread casually across the coffee table, like she belonged there.I paused on purpose.“Didn’t you say you had a mixer tonight?” I asked lightly. “That you wouldn’t be coming home?”She looked up, lips curving into a shy smile that made my stomach tighten.“Oh—right,” she said softly. “I forgot to tell you. I actually had a fight with my boyfriend. I went to the party just to make him jealous.”She laughed, almost embarrassed.“When I told him, he didn’t seem to care at all. But the moment I arrived, he showed up and dragged me away.”As she spoke, she casually tugged at her collar.A kiss mark bloomed against her skin.My nails dug deep into my palm.Pain spread, sharp and unforgiving.“When did you get a boyfriend?” I asked quietly. “Why didn’t I know?”She tilted her head, unbothered.“About five months ago.”Five months.She had moved into this house five months ago.So from the very fi

Chapter 4

The restaurant manager rushed forward, blocking her path.“I’m sorry, miss. The club is fully reserved tonight. No outside guests.”Ava smiled and pushed past him anyway.“Arabella. Dominic.”Her voice was light, almost cheerful.“So you’re the ones who booked the place. What a coincidence. I was craving this restaurant too. You don’t mind me joining, right?”She didn’t wait for an answer.She walked straight over and sat down beside me, close enough that I could smell her perfume.My chest tightened.For a second, I forgot how to breathe.A short while, I excused myself and went to the restroom.I splashed cold water on my face again and again, trying to stay upright—trying not to fall apart.That was when my phone buzzed.An unknown number.Arabella, if I text him and say my stomach hurts, do you think he’ll still stay with you?My fingers trembled.I didn’t reply.When I returned to the table, Dominic was already standing, his face tense.“Arabella, I need to step out for a bit,” he

Chapter 5

Dominic POVI drove Ava to a private hospital owned by one of the Families.The doctor didn’t bother lowering his voice.“She’s three months pregnant,” he said coldly.“No sexual activity. Not tonight, not next time. Just because nothing happened this time doesn’t mean you’ll be lucky again.”He looked at both of us, unimpressed.“Bed rest. Two days of observation. If everything’s stable, then she can leave.”I stood there, jaw tight, guilt clawing its way up my chest.When the doctor left, I turned to Ava.“You can’t keep provoking me,” I said, frustration leaking into my voice.“What if something happened to the baby?”She didn’t answer.She wrapped her arms around my waist instead, pressing her cheek against me like she hadn’t heard a word.“Okay,” she murmured softly.“I get it.”Then she smiled.“You took Arabella out to dinner and didn’t even bring me. I was jealous.”“I just wanted your attention. I didn’t expect you to lose control like that…”Her eyes reddened slightly, lashes

Chapter 6

I noticed something else inside the folder.Behind the signed papers, there were several loose sheets.Blank at first glance.I pulled them out, already irritated, ready to throw them away—Then the handwriting stopped me.Arabella’s.Clean. Precise. Calm.Just like her.She had always been like that—no matter how bad things got, she never raised her voice. Never lost control.Yet these pages were different.The paper was punctured in several places, as if the pen had been pressed down too hard.Hard enough to tear through.There were no accusations.No questions.Only facts.Locations.Dates.Times.How many times.Every place Ava and I had crossed the line.Every time I had lied to my wife.Tucked between the pages was a small recording device.I pressed play.Ava’s voice filled the silence—soft, smug, intimate—confessing everything she had done behind Arabella’s back.Arabella’s voice never appeared.She hadn’t confronted.She hadn’t begged.She hadn’t asked why.She had simply coll

Chapter 7

That night, I drank more than I should have.Arabella hated the smell of alcohol.She always had.So I decided to sleep in the guest room—just one night.Let the scent fade before I went back to our bedroom.That was the plan.When I woke up, half-drunk and disoriented, Ava was beside me.Naked.Too close.For a second, my mind went blank.Then the fear hit.And after that—rage.I hadn’t expected someone from the countryside, someone who was family, to dare cross that line.But what terrified me more was Arabella finding out.The thought of her pain—of her leaving—was unbearable.My first instinct was simple.End it.End her.She dropped to her knees before I could speak, shaking, crying, begging.Then my parents called.Another reminder.Another thinly veiled demand.An heir.Arabella couldn’t have children.I sat in that room all night, chain-smoking, staring at the wall.Somewhere before dawn, I looked at Ava’s face again.She was Arabella’s cousin.Blood-related.If she carried my

Chapter 8

I didn’t look at Ava again.In that moment, she stopped mattering.I turned and walked out of the hospital room. The corridor lights were cold and blinding, my footsteps echoing through the private wing. I went straight back to my office and shut the door behind me, sealing myself inside the silence.On my desk, the photo was still there.Arabella and me.She was leaning into my arms, head slightly tilted, smiling softly. Her eyes were calm, devoted—like the entire world began and ended with me.Something pierced straight through my chest.I picked up the frame and held it against my body, staring at her face for a long time. Long enough for the night sky outside the window to fade into gray dawn.I reached for the desk phone.The first call went to one of her friends.“Have you heard from her?”A pause. Then hesitation.“No.”I hung up.The second call. The third.Her old classmates. Women she’d met through charity events. People who had once shared dinners and polite smiles with us.

Chapter 9

Arabella POVBy the seventh month after I arrived in the United States, a letter finally found its way to me from back home.By then, I was already living comfortably.The copyright money from the book I’d written years ago—back when I still believed love could save anything—had matured into something solid. Enough to buy an entire building on one of New York’s busiest streets.I kept the third floor and above for myself.The first floor I leased to a small newspaper office.The second became a neighborhood shop.It was clean. Quiet. Anonymous.Exactly what I needed.Most mornings, my life was painfully simple. I watered the plants on my balcony, drank coffee, skimmed the papers. No bodyguards. No whispered warnings. No one watching my every breath.I took a sip of coffee and frowned.Even after all this time, I still couldn’t get used to the bitterness.I set the cup down on the wrought-iron table and opened the letter.It began with polite greetings—how are you, are you well, do you

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