Short Mafia Stories & Novels

I was born blessed by the god of fortune. No matter where I work, I can close major deals while lying down asleep. The underboss of the Castellano mafia family discovers this secret. He shows up at my door personally and invites me to join as a consigliere in name only. He offers me a six-figure annual salary and chauffeur service. He even installs a special ten-foot-wide massage bed in my office just for sleeping. After I join the Castellano family, arms deals finalize one after another. Several stalled collaborations come back to life. The Castellano family's reputation climbs steadily. Until the boss' girlfriend shows up to inspect for the first time. She grabs a pair of scissors and, in front of everyone, shreds my mattress to pieces. "Useless! We don't pay you all this money to sleep! "Starting tomorrow, you're working as a bar hostess. And you'll be paid like one too." I rub my sleepy eyes and stare at her in confusion. Last night, to help the Castellano family finalize that casino operation rights contract, I didn't sleep a wink. I barely fall asleep, so how am I useless? The soldato beside her breaks into a sweat. "Signora, she's…" "Shut up!" she cuts him off arrogantly. "From now on, I'm the one in charge of the Castellano family!" Fine. Since there's no place for me here, I'll find somewhere else to sleep. I hear the rival family's boss is willing to give me an entire luxury estate.

fter catching my husband, Dante, in bed with his assistant, Angelina, again, I did something stupid. I leaked the video. I wanted the whole world to see them for what they were. But all I got was a lawsuit from the family and a six-month jail sentence. And an essay from my son titled, “My Mother Is Crazy.” That’s when I finally broke. I filed for divorce and gave up custody of our son. The day I left, Dante sneered at me. "Where you gonna go without me, Isabella? It's not too late to come crawling back." What he didn't know was that my mother runs the Wright family—the biggest outfit in Italy. And I'm her only heir.

In the Gallo family’s private jewelry workshop. The wedding ring I’d waited six months for was on another woman’s finger. Gia’s hand. An international supermodel my fiancé, the Don of the Gallo family, was having an affair with. The workshop director stood by, a cold sweat soaking his back as he looked at Maximo on the sofa. Maximo stood up. He took Gia’s hand, lifting it to the light to admire the ring, his tone leaving no room for argument. “She’s walking in a major show in Paris next week. She needs this to make an impression on the haute couture scene. The family vault is full of jewels. Pick something else. Don't be dramatic.” Under the harsh lights, Gia admired herself in the mirror, her smile haughty and triumphant. I looked at my own reflection. Cashmere sweater and jeans. I didn’t belong here. This wedding, a year in the making, suddenly felt like a joke. I'm not upset. I just canceled the custom wedding dress along the way. “Maximo. The other jewels are perfectly fine.So I’m not getting married.”

To everyone else, I'm the wife of Stefano Pace, the man who runs this city's underworld. To others, I am living the kind of luxury every woman in town envies. But what no one knows is that in three days, I'm leaving my husband for good. It started when I took Stefano's car to wash and spotted a black stocking that wasn't mine wedged in the passenger seat cushions. It was balled up and still reeked of sickly sweet perfume. The sight of it was like a knife to the heart. I knew that perfume. It is Isla Torelli's. She's Stefano's underboss, the only woman besides me who's ever taken the passenger seat. My hand trembled as I gripped the stocking, but I kept my cool. I thought back to our wedding seven years ago, when Stefano stood in front of the whole family and vowed, "If I ever betray you, then betray me a hundredfold!" He probably did not think those words would come true.

I was on my way to pick up my son from school when I got a call from his teacher. “Mrs. Corleone, you don’t need to come. Your husband — the one who’s been missing for five years — just picked up your son from school.” My chest tightened with unease, and I quickly corrected her. “Teacher, you must be mistaken. My boy's dad in Sicily on business. Where is this ‘other husband’ coming from?” After a short pause on the phone, the teacher spoke again. “Mr. Corleone said you don’t have to lie. He said he won’t kick you out of the Corleone family, since you gave him a son after you ran away from the wedding.” “You only have to give your position as his wife to the woman who saved his life.” I rolled my eyes. Deliberately raising my voice, I sent a voice message to his uncle. “Darling, come home immediately! Your nephew is back and trying to take our son!” Then I heard a crash on the other end.

I woke up in the past, on the eve of being traded by my family to that controlling mafia Don. Last life, his suffocating “love” and rigid rules strangled me to death. This time, watching my father’s eager face, I just smiled. “The engagement? Give it to your precious illegitimate daughter.” I walked away. Using the skills he forced me to learn, I secured my escape. On the day of his wedding to my replacement, I boarded a plane far from this gilded hell. Just before leaving, I pressed a button. The family mansion—the symbol of my old prison—erupted into a fireball behind me. Now, I’m thriving under the Mediterranean sun, free and wild. The once-untouchable Don is scouring the globe for me, unraveling. He found me at an airport, fell to his knees, his eyes desperate, begging me to come back. I lowered my sunglasses and looked at this stranger, my ex-fiancé, my voice utterly calm. “Do I know you?”

When I was having a heart attack, my parents, my brother, and my fiancé were all at our family casino—celebrating Eva, our adopted daughter, at her twenty-first birthday, her official debut into the mafia world. The doctor refused to operate without a legal guardian’s signature. So I called them. My father’s assistant answered. “Sorry, Miss. The Don is in the middle of a toast.” My brother and mother let it ring until it went silent. Finally, my fiancé, Adam, picked up. Music roared behind him. I could hear laughter, glasses clinking. “Cecilia,” he said, impatient. “If you can’t even show up for Eva’s party, stop causing trouble. Today is Eva’s debut. Every Don from three territories is here. Whatever drama you’re playing can wait.” I lost count of how many times they chose her over me. So after this call, I stopped calling. I signed my own name. My family thought I’d finally learned to be obedient. But they should’ve known that in our world, silence only means one thing—I was preparing to disappear for good.

I never called my stepbrother, Victor Rossi, "brother." I loved him. In my previous life, I forced him to marry me, and we became the most infamously miserable couple in New Hampston's mafia circles. On Monday, he threw me into a lion's cage after starving the beast for three days. On Tuesday, I tied him to a spinning wheel and forced him to play Russian roulette. He hated me for tearing him away from the woman he loved. I hated him because we had grown up side by side, yet even after ten years of marriage, he could not forget the woman from the fishing village. Even in bed, wrapped around each other, we hurled the cruelest curses at one another. When the cruise ship went up in flames, Victor gave me his chance to live. He shoved me onto the last lifeboat, his voice gentler than it had ever been. "This life was exhausting. I don't want to fight with you anymore. Live well. In the next life, let me go." I watched the fire swallow him along with the ship. The deep sea buried everything. The light in my eyes went out with it. I threw myself into the freezing water and ended that absurd, painful life with my own hands. When I opened my eyes again, I returned to the moment I forced him to marry me. In this life, I would not destroy us both. As I watched him kneel before me, defiant even in the face of death, I did not drive away the woman he loved as I had before. "I will let you have her." Under Victor's stunned gaze, my eyes reddened as I spoke softly. "This time, I am the one who does not want you."

On the day of my coming-of-age ceremony, all three of my fiancés showed up with the worst reports from their family-run businesses. My father had declared that I would marry the one who could bring the greatest benefit to our family. However, all three of them had already fallen for a penniless scholarship girl named Amelia Jones, and none of them wanted me. In my previous life, I kept them close, mentored them, and poured my resources into helping them rise. By the time they had each become powerful men in my family, they repaid me by framing my father, getting him arrested, and making him age more than 10 years overnight. He was dragged to prison. Me? They hired a crew of street thugs to brutalize me, leaving me to die while my private photos spread across the internet. As life slipped away, I heard their sneering voices: "Did you really think we ever liked you? Everything we did was for Amelia." "If you hadn't chained us to your side, we'd have married her long ago, we'd have a house full of kids by now!" "You and your father ruined her future. She couldn't afford college because of you. She had no choice but to jump!" Then I opened my eyes: reborn on the very day of my coming-of-age ceremony. I pulled my father aside, looked him in the eye, and said, "I'm an adult now. Throw them out. Strip them of every business and every asset we gave them." "I'm not choosing any of them. I chose Bruce Sullivan, the Don of the Sullivan family."

I'm married to Don Vincenzo Corleone of the Corleone family for five years. During those years, I'm the Donna whom everyone is envious of. But only I know that his love doesn't belong to me anymore. Vincenzo no longer takes me to core family gatherings. Our home is filled with photos of him and his childhood sweetheart, Lina Villo. At the banquet, Lina, who has won an award with the recipe she has stolen from me, nuzzles against Vincenzo's chest while receiving everyone's congratulatory wishes. Meanwhile, I get berated by the same man in public. Even when I get kidnapped, Vincenzo chooses to not save me just because he wants to take care of Lina. I've given Vincenzo five years of my love, only to end up with nothing good. So, I delete all of his contact information and board the ship meant for Castelloro. Vincenzo, I'm not going to pine for the genuine love and respect you owe me anymore. Let's not see each other again for the rest of our lives. We don't owe each other anything anymore.

Ten years ago, Elena, my best friend and my foster brother Alexander's fiancée, was tortured to death, every bone in her body crushed. I was the only witness, yet I chose to cover for the sadistic murderer. From that day on, I became the Family's greatest traitor. I accepted a ten-year prison sentence and bit off half my tongue just to keep that secret buried. Now, Alexander has returned as the most ruthless Don in Sicily. He dragged me out of my cell and strapped me into the memory extraction chair—a machine known to turn traitors into vegetables. As high-voltage currents tore through my brain, Alexander stared at me with eyes full of hatred and roared, "I will cut open your brain to find the bastard you’re protecting, and then I’ll send you both to hell!" But when the true killer's face finally appeared on the big screen, Alexander went mad.

My husband, Cesare Ferrante, the most feared Don of the Ferrante family, had always hated children. Yet everything changed the moment my stepsister, Bianca Moretti, moved in next door with her six-month-old baby. Suddenly, my husband became obsessed with that child. He personally fed the baby formula, sang lullabies, and carried the baby everywhere he went. Every day, he came home exhausted at dawn, yet his face glowed with joy, as if that baby occupied his entire soul. I became invisible to him. Three days ago, someone forced my car off the road, and I crashed into the median. Blood streamed down my forehead, and my vision swam. I called Cesare 55 times. He did not answer a single call. Instead, he posted a photo of the baby on his social media. [My little angel smiled today!] I had had enough. Tonight at the family banquet, every member of the famiglia was seated around the table. I raised my final toast, then set down my glass. "I want a divorce." They all froze. "Are you insane?" My parents' voices rose in unison. Cesare grabbed my wrist, disbelief written across his face. "Giulia, you want to divorce me just because I was busy taking care of the baby and didn't answer your calls? You're actually jealous of a six-month-old child?" I did not meet his eyes. Instead, I stared at the glaring kiss mark behind his ear. "Since you love that child so much," I said calmly, "I'll make it easy for you. Go be that child's father."

Five years into marriage, Silvia Serra becomes both Dante Valenti's most lethal weapon and his most invisible presence. She shields him from bullets. She crosses a freezing river for him. Her scars accumulate, and his response is an assumption that it is how things are meant to be. In time, Dante grows repulsed by the violence clinging to her. He derides her lack of charm and gives his warmth to another woman instead. He allows others to grind down her dignity, and with a new lover in his arms, he openly stains her name. Silvia tolerates it so she can continue guarding him. Everyone mocks her as if she's numb to it all, driven away again and again, but never truly gone. Then comes the night of pounding rain. Cast aside without ceremony, Silvia erases every sign she was ever there and leaves with finality. Dante treats it as nothing more than sulking, convinced she will return within three days. Later, the once-untouchable Don was seen on his knees at Silvia's feet, stripped of all pride, begging her to turn back and look at him just once.

Five years after our breakup, I saw my ex-fiancé, Nico Luciano, showing off his newborn on social media. The next day, he cornered me at a private club and slid a black card across the table. “Lena, Sophia finally had a boy, the heir to the Luciano family. Now I can marry you.” He tried to soften his tone. “Having been widowed to my late brother for five years, she just wanted a child to care for her. I had no choice after the first two were girls. “Thank you for waiting these extra two years. The wedding is set for next Monday, and the invitations are ready.” What he didn’t know was that I was already married. I am now the lawful wife of Vincent Moretti, the don of the North Alumcian Mafia Commission, and a core decision-maker of the Moretti family’s financial empire. Watching Nico’s confident smile, I sent a message to my underboss. “Notify the elders of the five major mafia families. Next Monday, I’m removing the Luciano family from power.” Then I looked up and smiled at him. “Marry me? Save your own career first.”

My husband, Don Reginald, and my parents threw me in prison on the very night I gave him his heir. All because my sister, Felicia, set me up. She claimed I gave her a wild horse at the family races—a horse she knew she couldn't handle. It went crazy. It trampled a senator to death. With the FBI breathing down our necks, the whole family made me take the fall. Three years. Reginald didn't care that I'd just had our son. He pushed me. Over and over. "It was your horse. If you hadn't given it to her, the Feds wouldn't be after Felicia. Just do the time. When you get out, you'll still be my Donna." Three years later, I came back. Nothing had changed. They still chose her. Even the son I bled for now calls Felicia "Mama." He looks right through me, his own mother. I didn't fight. Not like the old me. I just walked away. But when I finally vanished for good, Reginald lost his mind. He tore the world apart, begging me to come back. To be his Donna again.

At our wedding, Don Marco DeLuca, my fiance, answers a phone call. That's when his expression changes drastically. He then looks at me, his eyes filled with pain and conflict, two of the emotions that I've never seen plaguing him before. "Lina, Fiora will be flying this afternoon. She will leave Novaris permanently. This will be our last time seeing each other. I… I need to send her off." As I rub my thumb against the diamond ring which has just gotten slotted onto my ring finger, I just gaze at Marco quietly. "Are you sure you want to go see her off?" Marco's voice is trembling at this rate. He dares not even look me in the eye. "Lina, I swear that you'll be the only woman for me from now on. We'll get married, and we'll have children together. Life will be perfect for us." After that, he turns on his heel and walks away without looking back. He doesn't see the way I've crumpled onto the floor, where a puddle of blood has formed beneath me. My papa kisses me on the forehead. "My darling principessa, are you sure you want to break up with Marco?" I close my eyes and nod in response. I don't want Marco nor this farce of a marriage contract anymore.

Pia Bellucci descends from the slums in Hughlin. Orphans like her are supposed to spend their lives struggling in the bottom rung of society. They are meant to live in the darkness till they draw their last breaths. But the appearance of Vito Castaldo, the Don of the Castaldo family, has completely rewritten Pia's fate. Thanks to Pia's resilience and talent, she fights against all odds and becomes Vito's personal bodyguard. She takes it upon herself to block all harm coming his way and resolve deadly crises for him. Once, when Pia gets kidnapped by Vito's rivals in his stead and almost dies in that ordeal, Vito confesses his feelings to her after rescuing her. After that, he holds an engagement banquet and slides a diamond ring onto her finger before making his vow. "Once I become the Don of Nework, you shall become the Donna." Pia is grateful to Vito for saving her life while showering her with love and affection. It's only natural that she's willing to sacrifice everything for his sake. From then, she works even harder in striking more dangerous deals and wrapping up the most brutal negotiations on Vito's behalf. She practically puts herself at risk just to get rid of all obstacles in his way until his strongest foes are dead. But when Pia thinks her dream is about to come true, she stumbles upon the cruelest truth. It turns out that she's nothing but a tool for Vito to wield from the start till the end.

I died five years ago. Now my husband, the Don of our Mafia family, wants me to take the fall for his sister again—this time for accidentally killing a British noble's heir during an arms deal. He's holding a fake confession letter with my forged signature, storming into my old apartment in the rust district, only to find it empty. Frustrated, he grabs the corner store owner downstairs, demanding to know where I am. The owner pauses, wiping his hands on his apron, calmly tells him: "Serafine? She died five years ago." "Heard it was retaliation from a rival family during the gang war. They ambushed her in an alley... shot her over a dozen times. She died immediately." My husband, Lucien, refuses to believe it. Convinced the owner is on my payroll, hiding me to help me escape his reach. He scoffs, his eyes filled with scorn: "Oh, so what? Because I called her out for messing up that last job, now she's throwing a tantrum?" "You tell her, if she doesn't come back and take the fall in three days, I'll revoke her grandmother's 'special family protection'! Let the old woman rot!" With that, he storms out, his rage still simmering. The owner watches him leave and sighs, shaking his head. "There's no grandmother left to protect... That woman passed away not long after Serafine did... couldn't survive the winter without our family's medical supplies and protection..."

Eighteen and desperate due to my mother's illness, I enter the orbit of Enzo Lombardi, a powerful, feared mafia boss. He treats me with impossible sweetness, and I find myself sinking into his possessive love and lavish spoiling. Everything changes the day a woman named Isabella Gallo shows up. She claims she's the one Enzo truly loves, and she laughs as she slides a two-million-dollar check across the table, demanding that I leave him. I turn down the money. She then suggests we both send him a message at the same time and see who he cares about more. Holding on to one last bit of hope, I text Enzo that I'm in a car accident. Isabella, on the other hand, tells him her plane is about to land. I wait for his reply, but nothing comes. Instead, I watch as Isabella picks up his call. At that moment, I understood it was time for me to go.

After I married Riccardo, the Don of the Moretti family, he paraded a string of mistresses in front of me. He never gave me a second glance. But on our tenth anniversary—right after my father’s death—he suddenly promised me half of his empire. The catch? In return, he planned to seize control of all my family’s arms-dealing routes. That pissed off his favorite mistress. She cornered him on his yacht, demanding he take his words back. Then she fell overboard and died. An “accident.” After she died, Riccardo went insane. He took it all out on me. He tied me to the back of his yacht. He dragged me through the sea, a human anchor, until the rocks shattered my legs, crippling me for life. I became the family’s shame. Then, as I lay helpless, he finished the job with poison. Then I opened my eyes. I was back on the day Angelo Marino—the head of our rival family—proposed to me. In my last life, my family forced me to say no. He came for me, a one-man army. He killed Riccardo, but died in the process. This time, I looked at his kind face and nodded. Yes. But as we embraced, Riccardo appeared. He ripped me from Angelo's arms and claimed me as his own. That’s when I realized the cruelest joke of all. My monster was back, too.