Short Mafia Stories & Novels

At the awards for the Global Jewelry Design Competition, my stepsister Sandra took the grand prize. She used the designs she stole from me. What she didn’t know was the show’s biggest sponsor: Jude Moretti. Godfather of the Moretti family. A bloodthirsty monster scarred in an explosion, a man they say can never have children. And the grand prize? Becoming the Godfather’s bride. That night, Moretti’s men, all in black, delivered a gold-trimmed marriage contract. They were here for the “genius designer.” My fiancé, Marco, panicked. He whisked Sandra off to Vegas to save her. They got married that night. With the deed done, Sandra strutted back in, wearing my silk robe. She flashed the ring on her finger and the hickies all over her neck. “Marco’s mine now,” she purred. “What are you going to do, Odessa? The Godfather’s only giving you a day. If you don’t marry him, the Family will have to appease him. That means sending you to the red-light district. Selling you to the kind of sicko who gets off on broken things.” She was wrong. I had another choice. I found my father and stepmother, both scrambling to deal with the contract. “I’ll do it,” I said. “I’ll marry the Godfather.”

In my last life, my brother Leo—the heir to the Moretti crime family—stripped our estate bare of every last soldier, all for a Vegas jaunt. All because his new flame, Scarlett, had a jones for the high-roller tables. The Volkovs—our rivals, the very ones Leo had just pissed off—saw their opening and stormed our gates. My mother, Sofia, took a bullet meant for me. Died protecting me. I blew up Leo’s phone, my pleas turning to screams. He didn't answer. He waltzed back in after the shooting stopped, bringing our men home, but far too late for it to matter. Then, the news from Vegas. Scarlett was gone. A suicide note left behind. In it, she painted me as the monster. The one who’d leaked our weaknesses to the Volkovs. The one who'd orchestrated a fake kidnapping and torture plot, all to drive her to despair and lure Leo home. A perfect, tragic lie. Leo read the letter calmly. Then he burned the letter and told me, "Forget it. It's handled." Father tore into Leo for abandoning his post, for leaving his family to die. And me? I was named the new Consigliere. But after the celebration, Leo cornered me in the wine cellar. His face was a mask of cold fury as he pressed the barrel of his gun to my forehead. "This is for family traitors," he hissed, his voice pure venom. "The throne is my birthright, not some backstabbing bitch's prize!" When I opened my eyes again, I was back. Right in the middle of the fire and the blood. This time, I shoved my mother behind me, dragging her toward the panic room. And the bastards who were too blind to believe me? They’ll regret it.

I was setting up a weekend shopping list on the tablet my husband had just replaced for our home system. A notification popped up. He had forgotten to log out of a shared, encrypted family calendar— one I didn’t recognize. There was only one unfamiliar profile photo. I tapped it. A list titled “My Little Princess – Personal Notes” filled the screen. My Little Princess doesn’t drink alcohol—only mineral water or herbal tea. No late nights. She needs absolute quiet to sleep. She gets anxious easily—keep fresh white lilies in the house and her favorite vanilla chocolates on hand. I scrolled slowly, my expression unreadable. The final entry was bolded. Highlighted. “Next Wednesday: take my Little Princess to choose her wedding crown.” I closed the screen. Then I picked up my phone and called my husband. “Love,” I said gently. “Does your Little Princess prefer a classic European bridal crown… or something more traditional? I thought I could help you choose.”

The Moretti Family's Thanksgiving party was in full swing downstairs—crystal clinks, fake laughs, classic mafia gloss. Meanwhile, I was curled up in a servant's room on the third floor. Jackson Moretti's wife. Legally, anyway. My hands were ice. I gripped the ultrasound report like it could anchor me. Three heartbeats. Strong, steady. It was supposed to be a surprise—his big Thanksgiving gift. To the outside world, Jackson was a polished Stanford grad, running a top-tier consulting firm in San Francisco. But behind the scenes? He ran the Moretti empire—cold, calculated, pulling strings in the West Coast's darkest corners. Three years of marriage and we barely spoke, but I still clung to the hope that maybe... maybe there was something real left. Then I heard him downstairs. "You really not letting your wife come down?" "Isabella?" He laughed. "She'd kill the vibe." Another voice chimed in. "Lina's back, right? Wild you married her twin. Which one do you actually like?" Jackson didn't miss a beat. "Isabella's just a stand-in. Quiet. Predictable. I could tell her to drop dead and she'd say 'okay.'" "So when are you ditching her?" "Dunno. She thinks she matters. I'm just playing her." I slapped a hand over my mouth to muffle the sob. A minute later, I was heading downstairs, numb. I brushed my fingers over my belly. "Sorry, babies," I whispered. Triplets. His. He thought I was blind. Weak. Stuck. What he didn't know? A quiet woman, once she snaps—she can burn it all down.

My marriage to Tommaso Volpe, Don of the Volpe family, is part of a five-year contract. We each have someone we love, and we stay out of each other's way. He loves his adopted sister, Gelsomina Volpe, who needs his protection. My heart belongs only to my deceased fiancé, Marco Damiano. For five years, I play the perfect Signora Volpe, enduring Gelsomina's provocations and cruelty again and again. She forces caustic substances down my throat that nearly destroy my esophagus. He tells me to let it go for his sake. She stages her own kidnapping and forces Tommaso to choose between saving her and me. He doesn't hesitate, choosing to save her while I sink to the bottom of that freezing lake. On the last day of our contract, I calmly pack my things and leave the signed divorce papers behind. I need to find a young man who looks just like Marco. He's all I have left to hold onto. But after I leave, Tommaso loses his mind searching for me, saying he's fallen in love with me. He threatens me with the entire city's underworld just to stay by my side. He watches me grow close to my new "replacement" and goes mad with jealousy. He thinks he still has a chance, but he has already lost this game from the very beginning.

It was only when I met my boyfriend's family that I found out he was the heir to Scolaris' most powerful mafia family. The Cabellos’ family rules stated that any woman who would become the Donna of their family was required to have fifty million worth of personal assets to their name. For Ian Cabello's sake, I scrimped and saved and worked hard in the real estate industry to finally save up forty million. However, my company started to face problems when we started to lose contracts. I failed to put together the remaining ten million, no matter how hard I tried. Ian held me in his arms to comfort me as he told me how he would figure out a plan to help me put the money together. When my little sister suffered a sudden heart attack and required a large amount to pay for the surgery fees, I tried swiping three cards but discovered that I did not have enough money in them to make the payment. I hurried to the bank to inquire about the insufficient funds, only to be told by the cashier that there was no money in my accounts. How was that possible? I had saved up my hard-earned forty million in the accounts! The person-in-charge looked at me guiltily. "There was a forty-million withdrawal by Signorino Ian to purchase a villa to be gifted to Signorina Lucy Carter as her birthday present."

I spent five years by Casey Fusco's side, turning him from a beggar in the slums to a mafia Don. On the second day he put on the family ring, his first love came knocking on our door with an ultrasound report. Casey pushed the divorce papers toward me with a sorry look on his face. "She's pregnant. I have to give her the position of Donna." My brethren tried to talk me out of doing something foolish, since I had nearly lost my life while trying to help him climb up the ranks. But contrary to their expectations, all I did was sign the papers calmly without making a fuss. "Congratulations on having your wish come true, Don Fusco."

On our 40th wedding anniversary, I discovered that my beloved husband, Derrick, had been cheating on me. Even our marriage certificate had been forged. The woman he cheated with was his foster sister, Jasmine. I confronted Derrick with the evidence, but he only looked irritated. "I've already treated you well enough in this lifetime. Jasmine is my true love. I will marry her and have children with her." Even my son tried to convince me. "Just be grateful. My real parents never went public with their relationship all these years for your sake. You are old now. What else can you do?" That was when I learned the cruel truth. The Mafia heir I had raised with my own hands was not even my biological child. Back then, Jasmine and I gave birth on the same day. To make sure Jasmine's baby would inherit the Mafia family my father left to me, Derrick secretly switched our children. Because of their negligence, my biological child later died from a simple cold. The cruelest irony was that I had raised Jasmine's son as my own and helped him reach the top of the Mafia hierarchy. When the truth finally hit me, I coughed up blood and fainted. When I opened my eyes again, I had gone back in time to the very day I gave birth.

My father was critically ill. I begged my fiancé to keep his post-wedding promise—to withdraw emergency funds from the medical trust fund he had sworn to protect me forever. He refused. The next day, he announced his engagement to Pera. Overnight, I became the laughingstock of everyone. In my deepest despair, my childhood friend Seamus— The heir to a long-established Mafia family— Knelt down in the park and proposed to me in front of everyone. That night, he transferred a large sum of money to my account. I said yes without hesitation and rushed to the hospital to pay for my father's treatment. But he never woke up again. The hospital said he had suffered "unexpected complications." Everything after that—the lawyers, the funeral, all the arrangements—was handled by Seamus. Under the Mafia family's protection, everything went smoothly, and my father was able to be quietly buried. The wedding proceeded as planned. Years later, I overheard a conversation between him and the doctor who treated my father. “Seamus,” the doctor said in a low voice, “You tampered with the organ allocation priority list. You delayed Shirley’s father’s transplant so that Pera’s father could receive an organ transplant in time. You falsified the urgency level. Do you know what will happen if this is exposed?” “The list itself was legal,” Seamus replied after a pause. “I just…adjusted the urgency level.” “You committed medical fraud,” the doctor said sharply. “You ruined his only chance to live. All for Pera. Don’t you regret it?” “I don’t regret it,” Seamus answered without hesitation. “I would do anything for her. Even my life, even the honor of the Mafia family.” “Throughout our marriage, I’ve been trying to make up for everything I owed Shirley. That should be enough.” My vision blurred. Only then did I finally understand— The woman he truly loved was always Pera. "If that's really the case," I thought numbly,"Then I should leave."

Everyone has gathered around to play games together. The current game requires all players to transfer red wine to each other via our mouths. Before my fiance, Teodoro Lamperti, is able to transfer the wine to me, his female best friend, Cristina Ghedini, shoves me away before kissing him on the mouth right away. "What are you doing? Today is Serafina's big day, you know!" Teodoro might be complaining on the outside, yet he's patting Cristina gently on the back. The atmosphere in the villa becomes eerily silent. Everyone stares at me as I sit on the floor in a wretched manner. Cristina merely smiles nonchalantly. Then, she leans against Teodoro's shoulder. "Don't be so petty, Serafina. Teodor and I are as thick as thieves since we were kids. We're used to sharing everything together." Teodoro begins advising me as well. "It's just a game, Serafina. You've always been gracious, haven't you? Don't act like a sore loser." Everyone thinks that I'll explode into rage and flip the table of food over, like I had done in the past. But this time, I just draw to my feet and take off the engagement ring. Then, I slide it onto Cristina's finger. "This ring is yours now. Congratulations on your marriage. Remember to invite me to your wedding."

For our fifth anniversary, my boyfriend, Caelen Blackwell, flew me—and his mother—to Miami. I thought he was going to propose. Instead, he checked me into the cheapest room of a luxury villa and disappeared. Two days later, I found out he was staying in the private suite with another woman—his mistress, Samatha, the same woman he had just proposed to. When I confronted him, all he said was, “I’d never marry a crippled woman. Look at you, you’ll never be rich, powerful, or beautiful like her.” So I just made one phone call to my father—the most feared mafia boss in Spain—and told him to cut off everything Caelen had been using to build his empire. It’s not like I didn’t know how men like him worked—use a woman up, then toss her aside. I just never thought he would be stupid enough to believe I was the kind of people who could be disrespected or discarded like this.

I tried to die a hundred times to make him notice me. For two years, I was Shawn Scott’s wife in name only—an unwanted bride bound by a scandal, left to live in the shadow of another woman. My parents only saw my faults. My husband only saw my mistakes. As for me? I saw no way out. Every time I tried to end it, I’d wake up again, bruised and humiliated. I was greeted not with concern, but accusations such as "Why are you so selfish, Zoe Jennings?" or "Why can’t you be more like your sister Yvonne?" It wasn’t until my hundredth suicide attempt that I finally understood: I was the only one fighting for a love that never existed. So, I stopped. I walked away. I disappeared. I gave them what they wanted—my absence. However, when I left, the man who never looked at me twice started chasing the ghost of the woman he thought he knew. By the time he realized what he truly lost, I was already learning how to live again.

I once thought I had the most dangerous yet the most perfect love in the whole world. My lover, Dante Costello, is the Underboss of the Costello family. He carries himself with grace and nobility. Everyone fears and respects him, yet he only shows his gentle side to me. I used to think that the man who keeps lurking in the shadows and has once left humiliating marks on me while gazing at me with cold eyes is his brother, Luciano Costello. Luciano is a Capo who lives in the shadows. He's also a madman whose hands are stained with blood. Everything changes when I smell the unique scent of gunpowder and blood that only Luciano has from Dante's custom-fitted suit. Only then do I realize that I have never just belonged to one man all this time. During the day, Dante plays the role of my perfect lover. He showers me with jewelry and deadly romance. At night, Luciano transforms into a devil who satisfies his twisted, possessive urges in the roughest way possible. Both brothers have set up an elaborate trap to lock me up in this gilded cage and admire my struggles from afar. When I find out about the truth, I don't cry or bleed over it. Instead, I'm filled with eerie calmness. The brothers want to watch me break down. Instead of doing that, I'll ruin them. I flutter effortlessly between the brothers, using their only weakness against them. Apparently, both of them think that they are the only hunters in this game. This time, it's my turn to weave them a trap.

My mother is the Royal duchy and I am her sole heir. My mother was once deceived by my father, which nearly bankrupted our family. That bastard father of mine disappeared without a trace, taking the fortune he'd stolen from my mother and running off with his mistress. To prevent me from falling for the same kind of man in the future—to keep me from being fooled and robbed blind—my mother adopted two war orphans. She planned to raise them as potential husband candidates for me. But mother never knew the truth. These two men appeared respectful and obedient to her arrangements on the surface. But privately, they were both infatuated with my maid Josie. They constantly neglected me and made my life difficult, all to win her favor. My favorite, Marcus Reed, even gave up his own last name. He changed it to Josie's—Marcus Thompson. The betrayal cut deeper than I'd expected. Before mother died, she asked me the question I'd been dreading. "Which one do you want to choose as your husband?" But I had heard something interesting lately. There was a mafia heir—Vincent Rossi—who was notorious for his violence. He'd killed innocent people. Years of brutal fighting had left him severely injured. The doctors said he had less than six months to live. The mafia Rossi family wanted to marry him to a noblewoman before he died. I didn't hesitate to reach out to him. I offered an alliance through marriage. To my surprise, the Rossi family agreed. But on my wedding day, Marcus and the other candidate burst into the ceremony. They begged me to reconsider. "Please, don't do this!" Marcus shouted, his face desperate. "You can't marry him!" I stood there in my wedding dress, looking at the two men who had spent years ignoring me for my maid. Now they wanted me back? How interesting.

Everyone in New York knew I was the Godfather’s heart. Gavin Whitestone’s heart. He loved me for ten years. He’d fly into a rage if I so much as got a paper cut. But he’s the one who gave me these three scars. The first time, he pulled every doctor to treat Sofia, the girl who took a bullet for him, and ignored the shrapnel tearing into my side. The second time, he was drugged and fucking Sofia in his bed. When I walked in on them, he shoved me aside, desperately carrying her to the hospital. The third time, he took my father's last gift to me—a revolver—and gave it to a pregnant Sofia, just to make her smile. He told me, “It’s all for the baby. Once the baby is born, we’ll go back to how we were.” But this time, I didn't forgive him. I threw away every gift he ever gave me and vanished without a trace. And that’s when the untouchable Godfather finally broke.

Three days before the wedding, the church called to inform me that my fiancé had changed the date. When I went to ask him why, I walked in on him throwing a bachelor party with his friends. "Samuel, this was the day Claire personally chose. Why would you suddenly change it?" someone asked. Samuel Gordon stubbed out his cigarette, looking utterly nonchalant. "Because that day happens to be Janet's birthday," he said. "I need to celebrate it with her." The room fell silent in shock. "Aren't you afraid Claire will find out and kill you? Have you forgotten what she did before?" At the mention of my name, Samuel gave an icy snort. "That was all in the past. Claire loves me to death now. She even took three bullets for me once, so how could she ever bring herself to hurt me?" I stood at the doorway, watching the snow fall behind me, and let out a long sigh. Five days later, he stood in an empty church, frantically calling my phone. "Did you forget? It's our wedding day!" "I didn't forget," I said. In another church, wearing a wedding gown, I was saying "I do" to another man.

I lifted my head from Rhys's arms, his strong chest rising and falling against my cheek. Silk sheets tangled around our naked bodies, the air thick with the scent of our passion. After a passionate night with my childhood friend, the Mafia heir, I was jolted awake at three in the morning by the shrill ring of a phone. It was the Don, ordering me to bring Rhys back to the estate for an arranged marriage. I figured it was just another heiress trying to claw her way into the Griffin family, so I kissed his forehead, pressing myself against him and whispering with a low laugh. "Rhys, what's your plan for this boring princess?" He arched an eyebrow, wrapping a lazy arm around my waist. "Baby, make sure you pick out a good tie for me. I need to make a good impression on my future father-in-law." Seeing me freeze, Rhys sat up and shot me a casual glance, his voice laced with indifference. "Maeve, what's with that reaction? We're just having fun." "You didn't actually think you were going to be the next Donna of the Griffin family, did you?"

When the mafia heir, Marco Gallante, barged into the family vault with his mistress, I was standing before the Virgin Mary statue, cross-checking bloodstained ledgers. Fiore Albero cowered behind him, pointing at the ledgers in my hands and shrieking, "Marco, I'm scared..." I did not even bother looking up, just flicked the ash off my cigar. However, Marco kicked the desk over with one swift boot. "Chiara Moltisanti, Fiore can't stand the sight of all this blood and violence. Sign the divorce papers, now!" I stared at the mess scattered across the floor, thinking back to the pregnancy report the family doctor had handed me just ten minutes ago. The Gallante bloodline was dying out in this generation. Ever since the eldest son, Luca Gallante, died in that accident, Marco became the sole heir. The Don, Carmine Gallante, dreamed of nothing more than a legitimate boy of pure blood to carry on the family name and glory. So, I smiled, bright and sharp, with unmistakable mockery. "Perfect. Since you want true love, then the Don's throne will never be yours." Besides, I never wanted Marco, that useless fool. What I wanted was the Gallante empire, a mafia dynasty spanning three continents with 100 years of roots, and the control that left him with nowhere to run and no legs to stand on. This time, I would cut him out completely, keep the bloodline, and sit at the head of the family.

Before I realized it, I’d become the invisible wife standing beside my mafia Don husband, Adrian Kane. A stay-at-home mom buried in chores while my husband paraded around with his secretary, Viola, ten years younger than me. “She’s smart,” Adrian said once. “She knows how to help me.” Tonight marked our tenth anniversary. I saw an elegant designer dress and a necklace presenting in the living room. For a second, I was happy. Looks like Adrian finally decided to take me to this year’s annual mafia gathering and introduce me as his Donna. Turns out the dress and the jewelry was for Viola. Later that night, I caught Adrian sneaking in with Viola—both drunk, hands all over each other like I didn’t exist. I just made one phone call. “I will join the Doctors Without Borders program. Send me away.” Before I married Adrian, I had a future in medicine. But I gave it all up for him. Now? It was time to choose myself and leave behind everything that was never really mine.

Three days before my wedding with Luca D'Angelo, I accidentally stumble upon him having an affair with my best friend, Delila Rusconi. Delila can be seen sitting on Luca's lap in his office. She caresses his chin in a seductive manner. "Delila, I told you before that Katerina must never find out about our affair!" Luca pinches Delila's fingers together, his voice carrying a strong hint of warning. Delila just giggles before kissing his hand. She replies flippantly, "I know, I know. You have no choice but to marry her in order to gain control over the coastal port trades. I completely understand." I inhale sharply before fleeing the scene in panic. Tears brim in my eyes instantly. I can't believe that Luca, the man who's loved and doted on me for three whole years, has chosen to marry me solely just to make more profits despite the fact that we only get to know each other because of a marriage alliance. The future plans I have in store for us, as well as my rose-tinted fantasies about romance, are completely shattered because of the scene I've just witnessed. Tears continue to stream down my cheeks as I call my dad on the phone. "Papa, I'll heed your order and give up on the marriage alliance with the D'Angelos. I'll return to Chitchily in three days and carry out my responsibilities as a family member."