Pendek Mafia Cerita & Novel

I’m the best art forger and intel specialist in Chicago. And I fell for the man who owned it all, Don Vincenzo Russo. For ten years, I was his secret, his weapon, and his woman. I built his empire from the shadows. I thought I’d get a ring. After all, every night he was in this city, he was buried inside me, taking his pleasure. He’d whisper that I was his, that no one else felt this good. But this time, after he was finished with me, he announced he was marrying the Russian Bratva princess, Katerina Petrov. That’s when I knew. I wasn’t his woman. I was just a body. For an alliance, for her, he sacrificed me. He left me to die. So I destroyed every piece of the life he gave me. I made one call to my father in Italy. And then, I vanished. But when the Don who owned Chicago couldn't find his favorite toy… he went insane.

At nine months pregnant, I was in the final stretch of my term, and my body heavy with a baby due any day. But my husband, Vito Falcone, underboss of the family, had locked me away. He held me in a sterile underground medical room and injected me with a labor suppressant. As I screamed in agony, he coldly told me to endure it. Because his brother's widow, Scarlett, was expected to go into labor at the exact same time. A blood oath he'd made with his late brother declared that the firstborn son would inherit the family's lucrative West Coast territory. "That inheritance belongs to Scarlett's child," he said. "With Daemon gone, she is utterly alone and destitute. You have my love, Alessia. All of it. I just need her to deliver safely. Then it's your turn." The drug was a constant, agonizing torment. I begged him to take me to a hospital. He grabbed me by the throat, forcing me to meet his icy gaze. "Stop the act! I know you're fine. You’re just trying to steal the inheritance." "To get ahead of Scarlett, you'll stop at nothing." My face was ashen. My body convulsed as I managed a desperate whisper. "The baby's coming. I don't care about the inheritance. I just love you, and I want our child to be born safely!" He sneered. "If you were really that innocent, if you had an ounce of love for me, you wouldn't have forced Scarlett to sign that prenup, waiving her child's inheritance rights." "Don't worry, I'll be back for you after she's given birth. you're carrying my own flesh and blood, after all." He kept a vigil outside Scarlett's delivery room all night. It was only after seeing the newborn in her arms that he remembered me. He finally sent his second in command, Marco, to release me. But when Marco finally called, his voice was shaking. "Boss... the missus and the baby... they're gone." In that moment, Vito Falcone shattered.

I'm Isa Borgia, the daughter of the most powerful Don in Corvina. My father worries I'll marry the wrong man on a whim, so he arranges for me to be engaged to Luca, the rising heir of the Marino family. It's an arranged marriage, but that doesn't mean I've lost all my say. The very least I can do is choose a ring I genuinely like. So, I go to the mafia auction. When the diamond ring appears as the final jewel of the night, I lift my paddle. Just before the gavel falls, an arrogant voice comes from behind me. "A country bumpkin like you thinks you can compete with me? Do yourself a favor and leave." The auction hall goes quiet for a few seconds. The only sound comes from the camera shutters clicking around the hall. I turn and see a woman in a gold couture gown. Her mouth curves in a casual smile, as if she owns the place. Before I can say a word, the auctioneer rushes to close the bid.
"Sold! Congratulations to Ms. Sofia Lopez for winning the final lot, the Eternal Star!" My brows pull tight, and a hot spike of anger rises in my chest. "You ended the bidding early! Do you even follow the rules here?" Sofia turns around and gives me a once-over, her gaze sharp as a blade. 
"Rules?" She lets out a cold laugh. "Come on. I'm Luca Marino's favorite godsister. Around here, I make the rules!" I can't help but laugh. What a coincidence. So, she's my fiance's godsister. I pull out my phone and call him. "Luca, your godsister just snatched the engagement ring I picked out. How are you going to handle this?"

“I need your help to fake a private jet crash,” I said quietly. “It’s the only way I can ever leave Luca Moretti.” People said he’d given up the Mafia throne for me. They called him the man who traded power for love— the heir who walked away from blood and gold just to marry a waitress from the slums. For years, he made the world believe in us. He built empires under my name. He sent me roses every Monday. He told the press I was his salvation. But love doesn’t always mean loyalty. While I was busy believing in forever, he was building a second home behind my back— one filled with laughter, toys, and twin sons who had his eyes. The night I disappeared, his empire burned. He tore apart cities, bribed governments, and buried men alive just to find me. But by the time he did— I was already gone. And the woman he’d once died for no longer loved him enough to stay alive.

On the night of our ninth wedding anniversary, my husband—Damian Grant, the man who ruled the mafia by day and once ruled my heart by night—did not bring me roses. He gave the bouquet that should have been mine to Serena Lane, his personal assistant. Beneath the chandelier where we once danced on our wedding night, he turned to me with that same cold charm he once used to whisper sweet nothings in my ear. “She's pregnant.” Finally, everything fell into place. “She's a picky eater. From today onward, you’ll cook three meals a day for her. And no repeats. “She’s sensitive and hates sleeping alone, so you’ll need to move your things into the guest room.” The room fell silent. I did not raise my voice, nor did I shed a single tear. I simply picked up my packed suitcase and walked to the door. The butler tried to stop me, but Damian did not even blink. “She’ll come back.” He lazily swirled the wine in his glass. “She’ll come back crying and begging within three days.” Our guests burst out laughing. They placed a million-dollar bet right in front of me. They were betting on whether I would be back before the night was over, begging Damian to let me back in like a pathetic stray dog with my tail between my legs. However, they did not know I had already received the family heirloom from my real father. I booked my flight to get far, far away from everyone I used to know. This time, I really left.

On our seventh wedding anniversary, I was straddling my Mafia husband, Lucian, kissing him deeply. My fingers fumbled in the pocket of my expensive silk dress, searching for the pregnancy test I'd hidden there. I wanted to save the news of my unexpected pregnancy for the end of the evening. Lucian's right-hand man, Marco, asked with a suggestive smile in Italian: "Don, your new little canary, Sophia. How does she taste?" Lucian's mocking laughter vibrated through my chest, sending a chill down my spine. He replied, also in Italian: "Like an unripe peach. Fresh and tender." His hand was still caressing my waist, but his gaze was distant. "Just keep this between us. If my Donna finds out, I'm a dead man." His men chuckled knowingly, raising their glasses and swearing their silence. The warmth in my blood turned to ice, inch by inch. The one thing they didn’t know was that my grandmother was from Sicily, so I understood every word. I forced myself to remain calm, keeping the perfect smile of a Donna fixed in place, but the hand holding my champagne flute trembled. Instead of making a scene, I opened my phone, found the invitation I had received a few days ago for a private international medical research project, and tapped "Accept." In three days, I would disappear from Lucian's world completely.

I had spent my whole life living in the shadow of my sister, Juliana, the woman everyone in the mafia's heir circle adored and protected. She had no idea that I had been reborn. Just like in my previous life, she smiled sweetly and gently, insisting that I pick my fiancé first, pretending to be thoughtful and gracious. However, this time, I refused. In my previous life, I naïvely believed she meant well. I married the man she recommended, Chester Kane, an heir who was said to have been paralyzed after an ambush. I gave up my right to inherit the family, becoming his caretaker, his crutch, the medicine he used to fight loneliness. However, no matter how much warmth I gave him, his heart remained frozen. The truth only came out during my sister's pregnancy celebration. When an assassin from a rival family raised his gun toward her belly, the man who had not stood in years suddenly rose to his feet. He shoved me toward the muzzle of the gun. All seven bullets tore into my womb. As I collapsed, I saw him pull my sister into his arms, shielding her with his own body and taking the final shot for her. Only then did I understand. He had never been paralyzed. His family had never abandoned him. He pretended to be sick because Juliana's heart belonged to another man, and he refused to be tied to me. "I'm sorry, Tania," he said. "I lied to you. However, I couldn't let Juliana lose the heir she's carrying. I'll repay what I owe you in our next life." When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day my father asked us to choose our marriage partners. This time, I chose no one. Yet back then, they were the ones who begged for my love.

My father and brother had preferred my sister over me since we were kids. In fact, they hated me. When I was bullied at a party, it was a mafia boss, Edwin Carlson, who stepped in. He saved me and announced right there in front of everyone that I was the woman he loved. He warned that anyone who dared mess with me again would have to deal with him. Edwin bought a castle deep in the forest just for me. He filled the garden with my favorite tulips and held a grand wedding there that made headlines across the country. For a while, I became the woman everyone envied. Seven months pregnant, I attended my father's birthday party. But that night, a sudden fire broke out. My biased father and brother only cared about saving my sister, Kelsey Grant. They rushed her out while I was left behind to die in the flames. In the end, it was Edwin who carried me out. But when I woke up in the hospital, I saw something that shattered my heart. "What the hell were you thinking, starting that fire?" Edwin's face was dark with rage. "Stephanie's only seven months pregnant! Are you trying to force her into early labor? Were you trying to kill her and the baby?" My father and brother spoke in hushed voices, trying to explain. "Kelsey has leukemia. The doctors said we can't wait anymore—she needs surgery soon. And she needs the baby's bone marrow..." "I care about Kelsey's life more than you do. Why else would I have married Stephanie? But you can't hurt her. I have my own plan!" Edwin warned coldly. "Saving Kelsey is the goal, yes—but if you try to save her at the cost of Stephanie's life, I won't allow it!" After hearing that, I fled the hospital room in a panic. So that was why he married me. Not because he loved me, but to save Kelsey. Everything he did for me—his kindness, his care—was all for her. Just like my father and brother, he loved Kelsey. Not me. If no one loved me, then I figured I might as well just disappear.

Three years ago, I drugged the mafia heir, Vincent. After that one wild night, he didn’t kill me. Instead, he fucked me until my legs went weak, gripping my waist and whispering the same word over and over: “Principessa.” Just as I was about to propose, his first love, Isabella, returned. To keep her happy, Vincent let a car hit me, had my mother’s heirlooms thrown to stray dogs, and sent me to prison… But when I was finally broken, flying to Boston to marry someone else, Vincent tore New York City apart to find me.

The night before high school graduation, Ethan Luciano pulled me into his bedroom. His hands were rough, his touch demanding, yet my heart overflowed with a decade's worth of unspoken longing. I'd loved Ethan for ten years, and finally, it seemed my silent wishes had come true. Afterwards, as we lay tangled in his sheets, he whispered that he'd marry me after graduation. Once he took over the Luciano family's empire from his father, he'd make me the most cherished woman in the family. I believed him. The next morning, I sat curled up against his bare chest as he casually told my foster brother, Lucas, about us. My cheeks were flushed, and my heart raced, still clinging to the sweetness of the night before. However, then their conversation shifted into Italian. Lucas smirked, leaning back against the doorframe. "Not bad, Young Boss. Your first time, and the school's 'it girl' just threw herself at you. So, how's my little sister taste?" Ethan gave a lazy chuckle. "Looks like an angel, but a freak in the sheets. Who would’ve thought?" The room erupted in low, conspiratorial laughter. Lucas raised a brow. "So, should I call her my little sister or my future sister-in-law?" Ethan’s tone darkened, his arm tightening around my waist for a moment. Then he let out a sigh. "She’s nothing. Just practice," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I’m trying to hook up with the cheer captain, Sylvia Dawson, but I don’t want her thinking I’m clueless in bed. Cynthia Saville’s just a warm-up." He paused. "But don’t tell Sylvia. I don’t need her getting all emotional." They didn't know that I’d spent months secretly learning Italian, preparing for the life I thought I’d share with Ethan. I didn't say a word. Later that day, I quietly withdrew my early decision application to Caltech and applied to MIT instead.

I found out I was pregnant at the same time as my mafia husband’s childhood sweetheart Rosa. To protect her baby from being aborted by her parents, my husband claimed her baby as his own. As for mine? He coxed me, saying he will claim only after her baby was born. I confronted him, demanding to know why he would do this to me. His response was cold and unwavering: “Claiming her baby as mine was the only way to protect them both. I won’t let anything happen to her or the child.” In that moment, as I looked at the man I had loved for ten years, I realized my love for him had died. Not long after, my family condemned me, calling me a slut for having a child without a father and pressured me into getting an abortion. Meanwhile, my husband was in another city, with his sweetheart, helping her through her pregnancy. By the time he returned, I was already gone.

I had been married for eight years when I inherited a fortune worth hundreds of millions that my grandfather left to me and my mafia boss husband. However, just as the lawyer was finalizing the transfer, we discovered my marriage certificate was fake. That meant the entire inheritance could only go to me. “Ms. Rivers, according to the system, you were divorced a year ago. Your husband, Zayn Levine, is legally married to… Whitney Sanders. According to the papers, you're single. In other words, Mr. Levine has no right to claim the inheritance.” Whitney, the woman Zayn had once loved before she went abroad, the one he never forgot. I stared at the lawyer’s message, unable to accept it. All of Zayn’s affection and tenderness over the years had been nothing but a lie. I had planned to tell him on our anniversary that after eight long years of marriage, I was pregnant. It was the miracle we had both been waiting for. Yet it seemed like he had never really been looking forward to it at all. As I gently rested my hand on my belly, I told myself that even if my twins grew up without a father, they would be just fine. In this place built on nothing but lies, the only thing left for me to do was run away.

My husband, Damien, loved me deeply—so deeply it felt like I was his whole world. Everyone said he was the perfect husband. Yet, he betrayed me. Not once, not twice, but three times. The first time was three years ago. His closest friend, Aaron, died saving him. Damien kept it from me and secretly married Aaron’s girlfriend, Vivian—on paper. I was heartbroken and ready to leave him. That night, he sent her abroad and fell to his knees, begging me. “Estelle, Aaron gave his life for me. I must take care of his widow. That marriage certificate is just a promise of security for Vivian. Once I’ve avenged Aaron, I’ll divorce her. The only woman I love is you.” I forgave him. The second time came the following year. At a press conference, Damien publicly introduced Vivian as the Mafia leader’s wife. He pulled me aside to explain. “Vivian is the only daughter of the Young family—the Mafia. Our two families joined forces for one reason only: to get revenge for Aaron. I’ve already made arrangements with her. Once we’ve dealt with our enemies, I’ll divorce her and marry you right away.” Once again, I believed him. Then came the third time. Someone drugged Damien at a banquet, and he spent the night with Vivian. He hid it from me until just two weeks ago, when I caught him at the hospital, sitting beside her during a prenatal checkup. That was when I finally learned the truth. He lowered his head, unable to meet my eyes, and spoke in a low voice. “Estelle, it was an accident. Once she gives birth, I’ll send her away. My parents will raise the child, and I swear—neither of them will ever appear in your life again.” In the name of love, Damien pushed me to compromise again and again. Yet now I know. There’s no future left for us. It’s time for me to walk away.

My twin sister and I marry twin brothers from a powerful mafia family. She marries the elder, Leo Smith, a federal judge. I marry the younger, Sam Smith, a surgeon. While I'm hospitalized for a high-risk pregnancy, I'm abducted by criminals demanding ransom. They use my phone to call Sam 32 times, but every one goes unanswered. Enraged, one of the abductors beats my stomach with a baseball bat to vent his anger. I try desperately to protect my unborn child, but I lose the baby anyway. Finally, the abductor calls Sam one last time. This time, he answers, only to snap, "Annie almost miscarried. I was just taking her for a checkup. Can you stop calling and trying to get my attention?" With no ransom coming, the furious abductors tie me up and throw me into a swimming pool. Then, they leave. Just as I'm about to take my last breath, my sister arrives and pulls me out. Seeing me almost dead from the miscarriage, she calls Leo in a panic. But all she gets is a cold answer. "Currently punishing the man who nearly caused Annie Morgan's miscarriage. Do not disturb." She tries to call the police, but her phone dies. With no other option, she drives me away herself. On the way back, a sudden blizzard hits, and a landslide blocks the road. The car breaks down. We're trapped and shivering in the cold. Thankfully, a forest patrol finds us just in time. We survive. When we wake up in the hospital, the first thing that comes to us is that we have to get divorced!

The night before our 17th wedding attempt, my mafia husband, Rafaeal Holloway, looks at me and promises an uninterrupted wedding. He solemnly swears. "Gianna, I promise you. I told Natalia that even if the sky falls, she'll deal with it alone." I am five months pregnant by then. After three years of dating and five months carrying his child, we've never managed to make it down the aisle because he's canceled the past 16 weddings. Every single time, it's for his sworn sister, Natalia Sullivan. The first time, she claims she has a fever. I spend the whole night at the hospital, still in my wedding dress, just to find out she has a mild cold. The second time, she claims her chest hurts. Rafael abandons me mid-wedding and rushes to her side, while she's out laughing over afternoon tea with friends. The third time, she cries for fear of thunder. He bolts mid-vows and leaves me alone in a hall full of staring guests. But everything's different now. Three days ago, a letter arrived from Northern Silenzio. My father, the Don of the Rossetti family, has finally summoned me home. If Rafael walks away for Natalia one more time, I'll leave for good.

My fiance, Dante de Rossi, is the heir to a mafia family in Manhorne, and he loves me dearly. Yet, a month before our wedding, he says his family has arranged for him to have a baby with his childhood friend, Isobel de Luca. Despite my refusal to agree to it, he brings it up daily and tries to push me into it. Half a month before the wedding, I receive a pregnancy report. I find out that Isobel is over a month pregnant. I have yet to give Dante my permission. This is when I realize just how fragile our years-long relationship is. I cancel the wedding and destroy everything he has ever given me. On the day of the wedding, I set off for Etolia to further my medical career. I accept a role with an international medical organization, severing all ties with the mafia. From that moment onward, he and I no longer have anything to do with each other!

Four years of marriage. One signature—his own—that set me free, though he never realized what he was signing. I was Sophia Moretti, the invisible wife of James Moretti, heir to the city’s most powerful mafia family. But when his childhood sweetheart, the dazzling and privileged Vicky, returned, I finally understood: I had always been temporary. So I played my final move. I slid the papers across his desk—divorce disguised as routine university forms. James signed without a second glance, his fountain pen scratching across the page as carelessly as he'd treated our vows, without noticing he was ending our marriage. But I walked away with more than my freedom. Beneath my coat, I carried his unborn heir—a secret that could destroy him when he finally realized what he'd lost. Now, the man who never noticed me is tearing the world apart trying to find me. From his penthouse to the underworld's gutters, he's turning over every stone. But I'm not some trembling prey waiting to be found. I rebuilt myself beyond his reach—where not even a Moretti can follow. This time, I won't be begging for his love. He'll be begging for mine.

The year my boyfriend is dead broke, I leave him. Later, he becomes a mafia boss and uses every means at his disposal to marry me. Everyone says that I am the first love he can never forget, the wife he cares about the most. However, he then starts bringing home a different woman every night, making me a laughingstock. Still, I don't cry or make a fuss. I quietly stay in my own room, never interrupting his affairs. Elton Carter is furious. He pins me beneath him, kisses me harshly, and growls, "Aren't you jealous?" He has no idea that I'm gravely ill. He could buy half the city with violence, threats, and money. He could buy my freedom, my marriage… and each night bring a different woman home, oblivious to the truth. Little does he know, I have just seven days left to live.

On my birthday, one of my husband’s subordinates leaned close to him and whispered in Russian, “Sasha has a surprise prepared for you tonight.” My husband smiled at me as he finished cutting my cake. Then, in the same language, he replied, “She has quite a few tricks in bed. I’ll see her later. “Just don’t let Madam find out, or I’m afraid I’ll get thrown out.” Everyone around laughed and assured keep it quiet. None of them knew that I’d been fluent in multiple languages since I was a child. What they also didn’t know was that I’d found the hidden phone he kept in the false drawer, where all the filthy videos of him and Sasha were saved. I didn’t confront him. Instead, I contacted a few remaining connections in the Vegas and had them prepare a new identity for me. In three days, Claire Vega would no longer exist, and he would never have me again.

On my sweet sixteen, my three brothers came home with a girl named Sylvie. They said I have to treat her like my family. I didn’t think much would change. But years later, everything did. Jace, my youngest brother, shoved me down the stairs for her. Asher—the oldest, who once promised he'd protect me forever—told me to get out. So I left. Quietly. They thought I was just acting out. So they took Sylvie to France, didn't even bothering to check in What they didn’t know was that I’d signed my name on a contract—one that aligned me with our family’s biggest rival by becoming their youngest chemist. Written in black and white, I could never go home again. The night they found out I was really gone for good? They broke. Every last one of them.