Short Mafia Stories & Novels

I’m Isabella Russo, the mafia princess everyone loves to hate. Adrian Moretti—ice-cold underboss in a tailored suit—was sent to “discipline” me. I torched his villa, wrecked his meetings, even tried to make him lose control. At night, he did. Against glass, leather, marble—he taught me surrender and I hated how much I craved it. Then I learned the truth: Adrian was only a mask. His real name is Leon Moretti—heir to the empire and the fiancé promised to me since birth. It should have been a fairytale. Except my parents crowned a miracle sister who wasn’t a miracle at all. Elena slipped into my room, my heirloom, my future—and into his arms. When I was framed, caged in a walk-in freezer, whipped for a lie, he chose her. So I sold the engagement for $200M, left a single recording as proof, and vanished. By the time Leon becomes Don, he finally listens—to the tape that proves Elena’s an impostor… and to the echo of my footsteps leaving him for good. Now the most dangerous man in New York is done being careful. He’s hunting the woman he broke.

My fiancé, Dominic, heir to the Carvalho crime family, vanished for four days. I thought a rival family had put a bullet in his head. Then I saw his ex’s Instagram story. A shot of them in bed. The caption: He still knows every inch of me. His face was hidden, but his hand wasn't. And on it, the ring I gave him, resting on her skin. That night, Dominic came home. He brought me white roses, my favorite. I asked him why. Why he'd lie. Why he'd sleep with her. He brushed it off. Just a "misunderstanding." I was done. I threw the ring in his face. Burned the wedding dress. Told him we were over. He thought I was just throwing a fit. He didn't get it. Not until he realized I was walking away for good. Then he panicked. Begged me to come back.

The day I went into labor with the twins, I bribed the family doctor to shoot me up with every heavy-duty suppressant he could get his hands on. Anything to stall the birth. Why? Because in my last life, Vincent—my husband, the Don—claimed to have a low sperm count. To guarantee an heir, he lined up ten mistresses and told the whole house: whoever popped out a son first, her kid would be the next Corleone Don. He promised if I delivered first, he'd ditch the others. Said our baby would inherit the throne. I bought every word. When I found out I was carrying twins, I couldn't stop shaking—I thought I'd won. But after I gave birth, he tossed me and the babies into the freezing wine cellar and locked the place down. "Lucy came from nothing. I just wanted to give her kid a name. You started rumors, pushed her into despair, and now she's dead—her and the baby. You're vile. Not fit to be the Don's wife. Think about what you've done. I'll open the door in three days." Then he had the butler seal it shut. What he didn't know? That night, the cellar caught fire. Me and my babies? Burned alive. When I opened my eyes again, I was back—right before labor. This time, I'm not staying. Soon as I deliver and get back on my feet, I'm taking my kids and disappearing for good.

It's my seventh anniversary with Chase McGregor. I hide in his car's trunk while holding a pregnancy report. In my other hand, I hold a limited-edition watch that I've prepared for him. I want to surprise him and tell him we're about to have a child. To my surprise, I hear something that devastates me. "Chase, you're not really going to marry Daphne, are you? Lucille Gervais wants to marry you. As long as you do that, the North Sea's shipping routes, cargo operations, and drug trade will come under your control." "Help me set up a date with her. I'll break up with Daphne." My breathing hitches. I want to hear Chase object to this or show even the slightest bit of hesitation, but none of it comes. The pregnancy report slips from my fingers. I once thought he would be the father of my children; I thought we would have a happy family together. Now, my dream has been shattered.

I was the Falcone family's top consigliere. Their brain. And today, I was walking away—handing over the books to every legitimate business I ran, severing my final tie. My protégé couldn't understand. "You're the future of this family, Aurelia. You can't just leave." I shook my head with a bitter smile. They didn't know. I'd been secretly married to the Don, Vittorio Falcone, for three years. I thought my looks, my mind, and everything I gave him would be enough to win all of his love. A hit at the docks three months ago showed me the truth. I took thirteen bullets. Emergency. I needed the family surgeon—which required Vittorio's direct order. I called him over a dozen times. But when he finally answered, all I heard was a soft, breathless voice on his end. "Vittorio, we haven't cut my birthday cake. Will you hold my hand and cut it with me?" That voice. My best friend. The woman Vittorio once had a crush on. Carina. In the safe house, weak from blood loss, I dug the bullet out myself and had one of my men rush me to a family clinic. Right before they wheeled me into the OR, Vittorio burst in—carrying Carina. Twisted ankle. Needed a doctor. Now. My surgeon was dragged away. The antibiotics came too late. The wound got infected. I fought for my life for a week. When I woke up, I stared at my phone. Not a single message. The tears finally came. I understood. I was just the woman he'd been forced to marry after he was drugged and slept with me. A scandal averted. All he cared about was my value and his reputation. And me? The secret princess of the Rossi family, who gave up everything to build his empire. All for nothing. So I prepared four parting gifts. A celebration of our mutual destruction. Then he'd never see me again.

After my sister's death, I signed a five-year contract marriage with her mafia husband, Horton Falcone. I became the stepmother to my five-year-old nephew, Luca. On my birthday, I wore my late sister's diamond cross necklace, not realizing what it was. At the family dinner, Luca walked up to me with a glass of red wine and threw the wine in my face. The red wine dripped down my cheeks, its sharp scent stinging my eyes and staining my white dress. He tilted his head back to look up at me, his eyes as cold and cruel as his father's. "Don't think you can replace my mom just because you married into the Falcone family," he said with a malicious grin. "You're the reason she's dead." "I wish you were the one who died. Then I could smash your gravestone instead of celebrating this stupid birthday." "I swear, when I grow up, the first thing I'll do is dump you in the Hudson River myself!" The memory stung as sharply as the wine, and all I could taste was despair. I stared at the child I had spent five years raising as my own, a sharp pain pulsing in my chest. I had thought I could devote myself to the Falcone family, that I could win him over with my love. But now, I was just so tired of it all. It was a family with no love, a child who saw me as his mortal enemy. I stopped deluding myself. It was time to let go. But after I left, that arrogant father and son came crawling back to me like whipped dogs, begging for my forgiveness.

I woke up, and I was 28 again. I had twin heirs, and my husband was Santino, Veridia's most feared Mafia Don. He sat at the head of the Commission of the Five Families. His sharp profile was a fixture on the cover of the underworld's most exclusive magazine for several consecutive issues. Even the oldest Valerian families were lining up to offer him their daughters. All the women in Altoria envied my good fortune. But the first thing I did after waking up was pick up the divorce papers, the ink still fresh, and handed them to his childhood sweetheart, Jessy. "My lawyer will handle the divorce. The properties and assets are yours. Santino is yours. The children are yours, too." Sitting across from me, Jessy couldn't believe it, her eyes wide with shock. "Are you crazy, Alessia? Is this some kind of trick?" "How could the woman who has been Donna for six years give it all up so easily?" I lowered my gaze, my tone calm. "Since they all prefer you, I figured it was time to step aside." "Just have Santino sign it and press his signet ring into the wax seal." "Once the divorce is final, I'll leave Veridia for good." This time, I would not make the same mistake. I would never again be a Donna in name only.

After five years of marriage, the doctor told me I was pregnant. It was something I had waited for so long. Yet, along with that good news came a nightmare. My medical tests showed that I had cancer, and it had already spread. The doctor gave me less than a month to live. I froze, gripping the report so tightly my knuckles turned white. Tears streamed down my face as I thought about how my unborn child would never get to feel a mother's embrace. My grief was interrupted by the ping of an incoming text message. It was from Mom. [Since you're so selfish and refuse to donate a kidney to save Nattie's life, you should divorce Davon. Let him marry Nattie instead. At least that way, you can fulfill her dying wish.] My tears fell harder. It was not that I refused to donate a kidney to Natalie Rivera, my sister, who was in the final stages of kidney disease. In truth, I only had one kidney left. Five years ago, I had already given one to Dad. Now, with my life counting down to its final days, I decided that I would donate my remaining kidney to Natalie. I would also let my husband, Davon Parker, go with her. Before I went into surgery, my parents praised me for finally being thoughtful, saying I had finally learned to care about my sister. They said that once the surgery was over, the whole family would go on vacation together. Davon even said he was proud that I was no longer selfish and promised he would make it up to me in the future. None of them knew I did not have a future. After the surgery, what would be pushed out of the operating room would be a cold, lifeless body.

The day I married Santino Connor, he went from the infamous heir of a mafia fortune to a broke nobody. When he handed me a plastic ring in a shabby basement and asked if I would start from scratch with him, I looked at the man I had loved since I was a girl and nodded without a second thought. "Santino, as long as it was with you, I would do anything." For him, I worked more than ten hours a day until my stomach bled from the stress. Our son, from the moment he could walk, trailed me from one odd job to the next. I thought my love could eventually build us a life in the sun. Until, at a lavish banquet where I was serving the elite, he showered me with cash from his seat at the head of the table. "What's that thing crawling on the floor? It's blocking my view!" "Take the money and get out of my sight!" When I saw the woman by his side, her face an eerie copy of my own, I finally understood. To him, this was just a game, and I was the only one playing for keeps. If he was going to go to such lengths to deceive me, then it was time for his game to end. What he didn't know was that one month later, he would be tearing the world apart to find me.

On my 20th birthday, my father hosts a dinner for our allied families. He lifts his glass with a smile and turns to his old friend, saying, "It's time my principessa chooses a husband from your sons." Without hesitation, I choose the youngest—Salvatore Carlo. Everyone is stunned. After all, I'm Estella Vinci, the eldest daughter of the Vinci family. I was born into wealth and power, with a father from a long-established Virellian mafia family and a mother from Montavira's ruthless DeNucci bloodline. And yet, I was hopelessly in love with Giovanni Carlo, third son of the Carlo family. In my past life, I got exactly what I wished for. I became his wife. He got what he wanted too. With my father's power, he became the heir of the Carlo family. But after we got married, my adopted sister Eleanor Vinci became his mistress. When my father found out, he was furious. He sent her far away in marriage to Norland. From that day on, Giovanni hated me with everything he had. He drowned himself in nightclubs, night after night, always bringing home women who looked just like Eleanor. He let them mock me and humiliate me. On my birthday, one of them poisoned my cake. I died with hatred in my heart at eight months pregnant. Now that I am reborn, I decide to let them have each other. But the moment I choose Salvatore, Giovanni loses his mind.

I’m the Vettori family princess. The only one. It was our fifth anniversary. A big dinner party at the estate. A waiter spilled red wine on my husband Marco, heir to the Rossi family. My best friend, Sofia, slapped the waiter. Hard. Then she was all over Marco, helping him out of his jacket. Her hand lingered on his waist. A second too long. I just stood there, watching. Sofia saw me. "I was just closer, that's all. Helping him clean up. Don't overthink it." I just smiled. Grabbed my glass. I went to make the rounds with the old dons from the other families. I would finish this night with my head held high. Later that night, Marco crawled into my bed, stinking of booze. His hands were on my waist. He wanted sex. I pushed him off. "The alliance is over," I said, my voice dead. "We're finished." Marco sobered up fast. His face went cold. "I'm trying to apologize here. You're divorcing me because Sofia helped me with my jacket?" I laughed. He didn’t get it. Not until I threw the proof of his betrayal in his face. Not until I cut him off from my family. Then he was on his knees, crying, begging me to forgive him.

I was a violin prodigy. But to pay my mother’s debts, I was forced to give up everything. That’s when I met the man who would own me: Dante Moretti. He was the king of New York's underworld. The Don of the Moretti family. With a single phone call, fortunes were made. With a single glance, blood was spilled. The world didn't just bend to his will—it broke. And on that day… what he wanted was me. He gave me a five-year contract. A penthouse in a skyscraper overlooking all of New York. More jewels and gowns than I could count. Every night he needed me, I’d put on whatever lacy thing he picked out. We’d have sex. Five years. 999 times. There were moments—his sweat dripping on my forehead, his soft breaths inside me, the way he’d look at me—when I let myself dream he loved me. Then the video dropped. Him. On the street. Kissing another woman. I knew the truth. He was my keeper, not my lover. Everyone laughed. They couldn't wait to see me lose my mind, begging him to keep me. Instead, I turned my back on him. And married another man.

Gianna Rossi struggled in the slums for over a decade before she accidentally discovered she was the biological daughter of the don of the Ricci famiglia, also known as the Gray Wolf famiglia, Domenico Ricci. She tried to reunite with her family, only to be ruthlessly driven away by the Soldati outside the estate. They left her battered and bruised. Her lover, Matteo Santoro, wiped the blood from her wounds and swore he would infiltrate the famiglia himself to seek revenge against the Ricci family's fake Principessa on her behalf. Once he successfully seized power and took control of the Riccis' arms operation, he would restore Gianna to her rightful place as the cherished daughter of the Ricci family. She believed in his sacrifice and endurance. She hid in the shadows as his secret lover, convinced that his public displays with the fake Principessa were nothing but an act. Yet one night, Matteo got engaged to the fake Principessa. Gianna stood in the corner wearing a server's uniform, watching their happiness unfold. She was a fool who had been played for.

On our fifth wedding anniversary, I discovered I was two months pregnant. I wanted to surprise Owen Reed with the news. However, on my way home with the gift-wrapped ultrasound report, I got caught in a street shootout. A stray bullet tore into my abdomen. Right as I collapsed on the pavement, writhing in pain, Owen appeared out of nowhere. He had told me he was away on business and would not be home until evening, but here he was, frantically shoving through the crowd. He ran right past me and toward a woman up ahead. "I'm sorry I'm late. Don't worry, nothing's going to happen to you." His voice was soft, gentler than I had ever heard it. He swept her up in his arms and disappeared down the street, surrounded by bodyguards. He never saw me. I was barely three feet away, bleeding out on the ground. When I woke up in the hospital, my baby was gone. That was when I knew I was done with this marriage.

I'm representing the Rosa family at a mafia trade summit when we're ambushed on the road. In the chaos, I get separated from the only bodyguard assigned to protect me. When I finally overcome all hurdles and make it home alive, I see him step down from the vehicle that attacked us. The Soldati line up before him respectfully. "Mr. Marco, if you like Leonora, you could just tell the Don. Why pretend to be Viviana's bodyguard? You had us chase Viviana into the dangerous Neralis Rainforest so that Leonora could appear at the trade summit. She's been missing for three days now. Shall we send our men to look for her?" Marco Santis furrows his brows, and his fingers clench around a ring carved with the Santis family's crest. "Leonora has always been insecure about being an illegitimate daughter. I haven't secured my position as heir. If I tell my father now, I'm afraid he'll never agree. As for Viviana, she's capable. She'll be fine." I realize Marco tried so hard to stay by my side for my illegitimate sister, Leonora Rosa. She's the one who drove my mother to her grave. It feels like someone had dug a hole in my chest and left it open to the cold wind. I force myself to stand and head to my father's room. "Papa, you wanted me to marry the dying heir of the Santis family. I accept."

The Rossi family has a rule. If you want to be the next Donna, you have to prove yourself. Make three hundred million dollars, clean money, in a single year. All on your own, no family help. I spent ten years trying to do it for Vincent. I built ten companies from the ground up. But every single time, just as I was about to cross that finish line, something would go wrong. Everything would just… collapse. This year, I finally did it. I ran to his study, audit in hand, my heart hammering against my ribs. I thought I’d finally won. Instead, I learned my entire life was a lie. He handed my entire empire to Ava—my father's bastard. All because she supposedly saved his life once, and he wanted to make her the real Donna. I gave up. On him. On my family's dream of rising with his. Then I picked up the phone and called the Outfit in Chicago. "Your marriage proposal," I said. "I accept."

My husband, Lucas Gabriel, and I were on our way to sell paintings when we got robbed. I used all my strength to fight off the robbers. I wanted to keep Lucas’s hands safe so that he could keep painting. However, he failed to escape. He threw his paintings on the ground and yelled at me, “This is all your fault, Aria! “If I had married Chloe instead of you, I would be the leader of the Lenza Group in Ros Aegeles by now! I wouldn’t be some poor, helpless painter!” Right before the robbers killed me, I finally realized that he never got over his childhood sweetheart, Chloe Lionel. That was why he never wanted to have children with me while we were married. When I opened my eyes again, we had both returned to a time before our marriage. This time, we went our separate ways. I cut ties with him and left Ros Angeles to focus on medical research. Seven years later, I returned. Lucas was already the boss of Cosa. He had Chloe in his arms and mocked me. “I know you’ve loved me in both lives, but did you really have to stay single for me?” I ignored him and held my son’s hand. He lost it. His eyes turned red with anger as he demanded, “Whose child is that?! Didn’t you say you would only have my children?!”

The day before my 20th birthday, the mafia Don Byron Lewis ordered me to choose one of his sons as my husband. Whoever I chose would become the next Don. I chose Joseph Lewis, his eldest son. Everyone was stunned by my decision. After all, everyone knew I had foolishly been in love with Elliot Lewis and that I was even carrying his child. What they did not know was that in my previous life, I married Elliot while pregnant. On the very day he became the Don, he began an affair with Sheila Baker, my maid. My parents drove Sheila away, but Elliot blamed me for it. From then on, he found countless lovers who looked just like her. When I was in labor, bleeding heavily and fighting for my life, he was in bed with one of them. My child and I died on a cold operating table. When I opened my eyes again, I had been reborn. This time, I decided to let Elliot and Sheila be together. I would find a new father for my child. However, what I did not expect was Elliot to be reborn too.

I caught my fiancé, Nico Falcone, in bed with my own cousin, Bianca Rossi. Right before our wedding. When I confronted him, he just called the whole thing off and ran me out of New York. I didn’t see him again for five years. Then came the charity gala for the New York Families. There he was. Nico. He pulled me aside, saying he felt bad for the state I was in. He offered to make me his mistress. I told him to go to hell. He got ugly. The whole room was laughing. Whispering how an outcast like me had no business showing my face in New York. I clenched my fists, the sound of their mockery ringing in my ears. Just then, the entire ballroom went dead silent. Every head bowed in respect. Don Lucas, the most feared man in New York, was walking slowly toward us. He stopped right in front of me. With the whole room watching, he dropped to one knee. He took my hand—the one Nico had squeezed red—and kissed it. His voice was dangerously low. “Who hurt my future wife?”

That year, during the Sicilian arms trafficking conflict, my lover of three years, Silvio, deliberately betrayed my transport routes at a critical moment in a deal with the rival "DiMarco" family, causing me to lose all my territory. He immediately defected to the DiMarco family's leader Marina, becoming her lover. As he left, he didn't even bother to disguise his betrayal, coldly tossing out, "What we had was just business, nothing personal." While I was burdened with my family's blood debts and pushed to the edge of a cliff, Lorenzo, who had secretly harbored feelings for me since childhood, found me and offered his family's entire fortune. "Isabella, don't be afraid. In my eyes, you'll always be Sicily's most formidable Queen of the Arms Trade," he said. He took the Colt pistol from my hand, and his voice was gentle yet resolute. Five years later, my power resurged. I was about to completely crush Marina's smuggling network and reclaim everything I had lost. My caporegimes, the captains of my organization, were ready and waiting for my command. But on the night before the operation, my weapons warehouse suddenly exploded, turning priceless arms into worthless scrap metal. I barely escaped through the thick smoke, my body covered in burns. In a secluded monastery, I overheard Lorenzo and Silvio whispering outside my door. "You really had the guts to blow up the arsenal. Weren't you afraid of blasting her to pieces too?" Silvio's voice carried a mocking tone. "If she died, just died. I've always loved Marina. If it weren't for that unlucky family marriage lottery five years ago, I wouldn't have had to endure this ugly bitch for all this time." Lorenzo's voice was ice-cold and unfamiliar. I closed my eyes, feeling like a dagger had pierced my chest. Explosion. Arranged marriage. Ugly bitch. So those five years of shared hardship were just his unwilling choice after losing a high-stakes gamble. "I married her to keep watch. If it weren't for me paving