Who Are The Main Characters In The Men Behind Mob Wives?

He is relentless and a beast while she is a princess and a runaway bride. Devon is running away from her own family who wanted to marry her to an old rich man when she met Daemon, the cold but cunning mafia who heads the rival mafia group down south. She begged him to take her in to which he agreed to her surprise. He proposed marriage to her in exchange for one condition, that she bears him a son to carry his name. Without hesitation, she said yes because she planned on running away too on the day of their wedding but the mafia, her mafia, wouldn't let her go easily.

Kanaya Diandra never imagined that fate would bring her into the world of a man named Lucas Arkano Dinov, a cold, powerful mafia boss who never believed in love. Out of gratitude to Lucas' grandmother, Kanaya endured the hellish marriage Lucas created for her every day. Lucas hated Kanaya for agreeing to the marriage. However, Kanaya's patience and loyalty eventually transformed Lucas into someone who loved her, though their happiness was short-lived. A cruel slander from Lucas's family caused Kanaya to be expelled from her home. Lucas was unaware that Kanaya had left with his heir. How will their story unfold after fate finally brings them back together? Can love unite their hearts?

“Freya you have to tell him the truth.” Anna tells me, her face creasing in worry. “No, I can't, he'll kill me, he'll cut me to pieces, you know him.” I place my shaking hands on my trembling lips. “He wouldn't, he cares for you.” Anna hisses. “Same way he cared for his ex wife before he killed her, burned her to the ground in her own home.” I grit out. “Those are just rumors, it holds no ground to the truth.” Anna tries to convince me. “I can't stay Anna, I'm tired, I can't live like this anymore, I'm loosing my mind, pleaseee help me.” “But you can't just run away, he'll never forgive you, and when he finds you, you know he'll surely kill you then. Rino hates to be deceived.” Anna says frantically before lowering her voice to a whisper. “Especially not when you run away with his child.”

On the day I signed the divorce papers, I was ordered to leave with nothing. When I walked out of the Crane estate, I had twenty-six dollars in my wallet and nowhere safe to go. My phone was nearly dead when a message from an old classmate appeared on the screen, linking to a discreet placement notice. 【Seeking a live-in maternal figure for three children. Room, board, salary, and protection provided.】 I stopped at the word protection. A roof, a meal, and a place the Cranes could not reach me were already more than I had that night. The address led me to the iron gates of an old mansion on Chicago’s Gold Coast. Only after the butler opened the door did I learn who had placed the notice. Dante Bellandi. The Don of Chicago’s oldest Italian crime family. I had only wanted a place to stay. Somehow, I became the legal mother of the three Bellandi children and the contract wife of Dante Bellandi himself. Later, my ex-husband, Sebastian Crane, stood before me with the same careless arrogance and asked, “Do you realize you were wrong now?” Before I could answer, the triplets stepped in front of me. Little Livia clung to my leg, her eyes red. “My mom wasn’t wrong!” Her two brothers stood on either side of her, staring Sebastian down. Dante placed one hand at my waist, his voice calm enough to make the air turn cold. “Mr. Crane, my wife owes no explanation to a man who lost the right to speak to her.”

On the third anniversary of our engagement, my fiancé—Dominic Corleone, heir to one of the most powerful Mafia dynasties in New York—told me he was not ready to form a new family so that our wedding would have to postpone. I told myself to wait for some time, the bond between the Corleones and the Valentinos—our families’ sacred alliance—would hold us together. But what followed were his endless betrayals and tortures. I walked into a bridal boutique and saw him laughing with Liliane, the childhood friend who always lingered too close. I watched him destroy the wedding gown I had spent months designing—then crush my hand beneath his heel until it bled. And when I thought I had hit rock bottom, he proved I was wrong—by getting behind the wheel and running me down. He thought I’d beg and cling to him, terrified of losing the Corleone name and privilege that came with it. But instead, I made one phone call and insisted firmly on canceling the engagement. However, that call didn’t just end a marriage arrangement. It unearthed a secret that had been buried for over a decade…and turned a marriage born of duty into a story of dark devotion.

Shortly after we said "I do," the Family sent my husband, Dario, down to the Mexican border. He told me it was a meat grinder down there—cartel territory. where guys were zipped into body bags every day. He said he had to go—to expand the territory, for the glory of the Family. He claimed it was too dangerous and that his enemies would paint a target on my back, so he wouldn't take me with him. I believed him. I stayed behind in his old, rot-infested house in New Jersey, taking care of his bitter, spiteful parents. I spent my days and nights in the Family's moldy laundromat, washing bills stained with blood. He told me he sent every dime he made down there to the widow of a brother who took a bullet for him. He asked me to be understanding. I never complained. Day after day, I pressed expensive suits in that humid laundromat, waiting for him to come home. It wasn't until the eighth year that a mobster came back drunk. When I asked about Dario, he froze, then sneered at me through a haze of alcohol. "Dario? Are you kidding? He’s been a King in Manhattan for years. He’s the youngest Underboss of the Corleone family." I stood frozen, the iron in my hand burning a hole right through a shirt. "And he got married seven years ago. Biggest cathedral in New Jersey. Half the mob was there to toast the groom..." He pulled a crumpled photo from his leather jacket. Snuggled up against my husband was a woman in a high-end couture gown—the very same "poor, widowed sister-in-law" he had told me about. The next day, I contacted a fixer who specialized in fake IDs. On the application for a one-way ticket to Europe—a ticket to vanish off the face of the earth—I filled in the fake name I had prepared long ago. He trapped me for seven years with a sham marriage. From now on, I’d be done with this damn loyalty.