Cerita Pendek Tragic Love Mafia & Novel Awakening

I packed the last of my things from the apartment into a box and sent my fiancé, William, a voice message. [Let's break up.] A second later, he replied, [OK.] Across from me, my cousin Mia almost spilled her martini on the tablecloth. "You two were together for seven years, about to get engaged, and it's over just like that? How is it that when I dump a guy, it turns into a whole dramatic saga?" "Still, I have to admire you. Giving up your life as the family’s Princess to build everything from scratch with him." I slowly stirred my coffee, the bitter taste flooding my mouth. "Because he never listens to my voice messages." I tossed my phone onto the table and pushed it toward her. Her eyes landed on the screen, on a long list of unplayed voice messages. For the past seven years, my conversations with William had been a one-way street. The rare 'Mm' from him was the most enthusiastic response I could hope for. I had grown used to his cold nature long ago. Until I saw a long voice message on his phone, played in its entirety. It was from his childhood friend, Tessa. In that moment, I finally let go of the sliver of hope I had been clutching for seven years. And now, it was time for me to return to the Miller family as its heiress.

On the night Valen Varesi's dying first love went into labor, his parents stationed armed men outside my suite to make sure I stayed far away from the private maternity floor and the birth of the Varesi family's heir. I never gave them the scene they were expecting. Not when Sabina Orsini was taken into surgery, not when the baby's first cry carried through the corridor, and not when the whole family finally relaxed. His mother sat beside Sabina's bed, clutching her hand with relief. "As long as we're here," she said, "that barren wife of his won't get anywhere near you or the baby." Valen stood at Sabina's side, wiping the sweat from her forehead with a tenderness I had once believed was mine. "Don't worry," he said. "My father has men covering every exit. If Nerina tries anything, she'll be gone before the night is over." Only then did he finally let himself breathe. As far as Valen was concerned, he had done nothing unforgivable. He had granted a dying woman one final wish and secured the bloodline his family had demanded for years. I was the one refusing to be reasonable. He had even decided that if I came later, apologized to Sabina, and stopped fighting him, he might be generous enough to let me raise the boy in name and keep my place as Mrs. Varesi. What never crossed his mind was that I had already made my decision. By the time Valen finally opens the "gift" I left for his heir ceremony, I will already be gone. And the only thing waiting for him inside is a divorce notice, a twin pregnancy report— and the truth that the children carrying his real bloodline will never call him father.

I found out I was the villainess of a romance novel called Sunshine Donna when I was already pregnant. For twenty-two years, I'd chased Renato Gatti without a shred of shame. Then came three years of marriage, just the two of us, wrapped up in each other. I'd thought it was everything. Then his true love showed up. According to the story, I was supposed to fall apart. I'd torment the girl, sabotage their relationship, and in the process, destroy myself. A bullet through the forehead. That was how it ended for Gianna Milano. I looked up. Renato was across the room, phone in hand, the ghost of a smile on his lips. He'd met her. Fine. This time, I'd step aside. But when I asked for a divorce— He cried. He begged me to stay. He threw the entire East Coast at the problem, just to keep me from walking out the door.

The private jet touched down in Solverno well past midnight. Behind me, an explosion rattled the terminal windows hard enough to make the glass shudder. Three days earlier, my husband, Damiano Salvato, had flown to Solverno to negotiate a deal. The city was now caught in crossfire, and his phone did not connect no matter how many times I tried. I dialed his Underboss, Enzo Conti, with shaking hands. The line rang for a long time before he picked up. His voice sounded strained. "Y-You're really in Solverno right now?" Another explosion hit, and the panic in my chest tightened another notch. "Where is Damiano? Which zone is he in?" The line went quiet for a moment before Enzo answered, almost reluctantly. "He never left Havenport." A second later, a photo flashed across my screen. Damiano was underwater with a woman, the two of them tangled together, laughing. I recognized her immediately. It was Valeria Caine. Three years ago, Damiano had stood before every Capo in the family and sworn he would never see that woman again. He had probably forgotten that today was our third wedding anniversary. "Signora Salvato, the truth is... they never stopped seeing each other. But the Don has treated you so well all these years that no one dared say a word." On the other end of the line, Enzo's voice trailed off into nothing. I looked down at the unsent message still sitting in the text box, the six words I had typed out for him. "I'm coming to bring you home." The cursor kept blinking. If that was how things stood, then there was no reason to keep waiting for him.

The night I lost the promotion I had worked for years to earn, I sent my boyfriend, Arthur, a text message. [I'm a little tired today, but the hot dog at the corner actually tastes pretty good.] My screen stayed dark. Half an hour later, I couldn't stop myself from typing again: [Are you busy? I just want to hear your voice.] A reply finally lit up my screen: [Are you trying to guilt me into sending you money?] I stared at the text, frozen. When Arthur had first started his company, his mother had drained every account and disappeared with all the funds, leaving him with billions in debt overnight. After that, he hated one thing above all else. Women who loved him for his money. For seven years, I had done everything I could to prove I wasn't one of them. We went Dutch on meals, I returned his gifts, and the results of every corporate project I handled were laid out in the open for anyone to scrutinize. And now, as I mindlessly scrolled through social media, I saw a selfie posted by Jessica, the intern who had just stolen my promotion. She was wearing a plunging V-neck gown, pinned with a pigeon-blood ruby brooch. The caption read: [Thank you to Mr. Whitmore for the congratulations. I look forward to learning from you in the future.] That brooch was a top-tier custom piece. I'd seen it in a catalog from an auction house. Tears blurred my screen into a messy haze. I suddenly understood. The innocence I'd spent seven years proving was worth less to him than the hot dog I'd just choked down. Since that was the case, I dialed a number I hadn't called in a very long time. "Papa, I want to come home. I'm ready to be the heiress."

On the day I'm supposed to try on my wedding dress, Don Aldo Vitale gets the time wrong again. By the time he finally gets to the bridal boutique, I have already chosen my dress. Just like always, Aldo apologizes without thinking. "I've been really busy lately. I hope you understand." But over the past few years, Aldo's taken his childhood sweetheart and assistant, Isabella Berardi, to more than 100 cities for business. He's never forgotten a single flight, meeting, or business dinner. In contrast, Aldo's always forgetting things when it comes to me. I calmly hand the wedding dress back to the sales associate. "It's fine. My friend already helped me pick out a dress. No point in coming here for nothing." Aldo lets out a sigh of relief, but he still looks a little uneasy. After all, everyone knows me as his clingy girlfriend who can't live without him. In the past, I would have been clinging to him, sobbing and throwing a fit out of jealousy. Aldo holds me in his arms. "Babe, you're really starting to act like the perfect wife. I heard from the butler that you went on a trip. Where did you go?" "I went to Sirdon." I calmly pull away from him. "I went there while you were on the flight to Dubmont." Aldo freezes. One of the things Aldo promises is to take me to the City of Light when he first tells me he loves me. He's always saying he'll take me there when he gets the chance. Three years go by. Then four. Even after getting engaged, he keeps putting it off, always using work as an excuse. Then, Aldo takes Isabella to a new city for another business trip. I've been with Aldo for five years. I suddenly grow tired of waiting for him. If he can't keep the promises he's made to me, I'll fulfill them myself.

The wine tasting ended.A passerby knocked over the wine rack in the hallway. The rack toppled straight toward me and my best friend,Lena.My mafia husband and our son both yanked her behind them first. She walked away unharmed.I crashed hard to the floor. Lena hurried over toward me. “ Seraphina, are you okay? ” My son grabbed the hem of her dress. “ Aunt Lena, don’t go over there. You’ll get red wine on your pretty dress. ” “ But your mom fell. I have to help her up! ” Lena insisted. Dante pulled her back against his chest. “ Calm down. She’s a grown woman. She’s not that fragile. She can clean herself up and stand. ” My left arm hung limp at my side.Blood seeped through the spilled red wine, heavy and warm. I suddenly realized I had lived this exact scene too many times. When rivals trapped us in the underground parking garage and I took a knife for him. When Lena was kidnapped and I stormed the warehouse to save her. Every time I got hurt, they only cared about someone else. They acted like I was fine. Dante walked ahead with Lena in his arms. Luca held her hand and glanced back impatiently. “ Mom, Dad says you go home alone. You smell like wine. You’ll get Aunt Lena’s dress dirty. She has a tour next week. ” I watched their backs, like a perfect family of three. I gave a soft " hmm ". “ I’ll go home by myself. ” I would not cling to this rotten relationship anymore too.

On our wedding day, Dante Moretti gave me one rule: spend five million dollars a year. Every last cent. I had already spent too many years being poor for him. We had lived in a basement we couldn’t afford to heat. I had worked three jobs just to buy him a suit that didn’t come from a thrift store. When he reclaimed his family’s empire and became the most feared don in New York, he wanted to give me everything. Then his childhood friend came home. Vivienne Russo called herself a marriage counselor. She gave our marriage a score of zero. “There’s no equality here. You can’t buy a healthy relationship.” Dante canceled my black card, our honeymoon, and even the private prenatal care he had arranged for me. Five months pregnant, I started looking for work again. Then I slipped in the rain. At the hospital, the doctor said my baby was at risk and wanted to keep me under observation. Dante rushed in and held me as if he could keep anything from hurting us. Beside him, Vivienne opened her notebook. “Don’t abandon your boundaries because she cries, Dante. She needs to learn independence. Pay half.” His arms fell away. “You heard her, Elena. Tears won’t work this time. You’re responsible for the other half.” I wiped my face and checked my balance. The money he had left me was just enough for a one-way ticket out.

My Capo boyfriend, Jax, only won me over back then thanks to the brilliant ideas of his advisor, Vivienne. Because of that, Vivienne always felt perfectly justified in meddling in our relationship. She once suggested that in the mafia world, a fragile relationship shouldn't be flaunted at family dinners too early. So, over the course of our five-year relationship, Jax never once publicly acknowledged me as his woman to anyone in the Russo family. She also said that distance makes the heart grow fonder, and a woman who clings too tightly only becomes annoying. As a result, Jax wouldn't even take me out for dinner without getting her approval first. I used to protest these ridiculous rules. But Jax would just act even more wronged and frustrated than I was. "Vivienne has experience. I consult her so we can make this last." "Why can't you just trust me?" That is, until the night of the turf war shootout. I got grazed by a stray bullet and was burning up with a fever. Jax left me alone in the apartment and went completely off the grid for an entire night. Unable to bear the pain and worry, I finally sent him a text. "Where exactly are you right now?" The reply on the screen came almost instantly. "Elise, a woman in our world needs to understand a few rules." "You can't always cling to a man and beg for his time. It makes you look cheap, and it will only annoy him." "You need to learn to be a little more understanding." One look at that smug tone, and I knew Vivienne was replying for him again. But this time, I couldn't even be bothered to ask why Vivienne was casually holding his phone at four in the morning. Nor did I hysterically ask him who was more important. I just suddenly figured it all out. The deadline for that highly classified overseas medical project had arrived, and I decided to sign the contract. Jax, I'm about to disappear from your world forever.

When my husband, Kevin, and I were at our favorite exclusive restaurant, he ordered a T-bone steak and told the waiter with practiced ease, "The usual, and no arugula in the side salad." I paused, then gently nudged his elbow. "Honey, did you forget? Arugula is my favorite." Kevin's body tensed, and he quickly corrected himself. I even teased him, asking if he was so tired lately that his memory was starting to go. A week later, I came back to the restaurant alone to unwind, only to overhear the young woman at the next table waving to the waiter with a smile. "The T-bone again, and no arugula in the salad. Just put it on my husband's tab." "The account number is 8993." My knife and fork clattered against the bone china plate. That string of numbers was my husband's private phone number.

Damian Moretti cast the only vote against my promotion. I did not argue. I submitted my resignation, put my apartment on the market, and booked a one-way ticket out of New York. That night, he held me as if nothing had changed and offered me a new collection of handbags and a ski trip to Switzerland. He said one position did not matter because I already had him. For five years, Damian gave me wealth, protection, and a place beside him. He also decided where I worked, how far I could go, and which parts of my life were allowed to belong to me. By twenty-seven, I finally understood that a man could love me and still refuse to respect me. So I left before he could make another decision for me.

I'm a mafia princess with crippling social anxiety. My fiancé, Rocco Falcone, is our family's consigliere. He’s the exact opposite of me—extroverted, effortlessly charming, a master at reading and bending people. He's supposed to be my protector. My only link to the outside world. Tonight was the charity gala for my late mother. I was hiding in the darkest corner, a mask covering my face. Rocco was supposed to give the speech. My speech. He never showed. [Emergency. Sorry. Skip the speech, I know you hate the attention. Driver will take you home after the auction. Don't wait up.] Then I saw Livia’s new post. It was a picture of Rocco, draping his suit jacket over her shoulders. He was looking down at her, his eyes full of a tenderness he never showed me. The caption was a gut punch: [No prom date, so my big bro saved the day! Couldn't have done it without him! ] The cold hit me. Bone deep. He ditched a memorial for my dead mother... to take his stepsister to a university dance? The guests began whispering and sneering that I, the famously awkward, socially crippled princess, couldn’t even force a word out. I stared at the whiskey I’d ordered for him. The ice in my glass was melting. Just like the hope in my heart. When I got back to our empty penthouse, my screen was lit up with missed calls and texts from Rocco. The last one came in thirty minutes ago: [Aurelia, trouble at Livia's prom. You know how she gets. Couldn't leave her. Your mother's gala means everything. I'll make it up to you, I promise. Next time will be perfect. Trust me.] I didn't reply. An engagement held together by "next time." Was a promise like that even worth keeping?

For seven years, I had been the secret of Enzo Gallo, the new Don of the Gallo family. When I went to register our son Lucas's birth, I discovered Enzo had already married his sister-in-law, Camilla, and claimed her child as his own. Her child became the heir to the family, with all the privileges that entailed. My child became a shameful bastard. Years ago, after Enzo's brother died, the family elders gave Enzo one condition to become Don: he had to have an heir with his sister-in-law to secure the Gallo bloodline. That night, Enzo held me close and swore I was his only true wife. He promised that once Camilla gave birth, he would give me the wedding I deserved. But he missed Lucas's birthday the day Camilla went into labor. Instead of the wedding he promised me, all I got was the news of his marriage to his sister-in-law. My son gently wiped away my tears with his small hand: "Mamma, don't be sad. I changed my birthday wish. I don't want a Papa anymore." "I don't care about being an heir. Having you is enough." I pulled Lucas into my arms, swallowing the bitterness that rose in my throat. "Who says you aren't an heir? Baby, Mamma is taking you home. To our family." What Enzo doesn't know is that I am the only daughter of the most powerful Mafia family in Sicily. I never cared about being the Donna of the Gallo family.

The mafia coalition’s family banquet had reached its liveliest point. Someone started stirring things up and steered the conversation toward the youngest Don of the Fumagalli family, Dante Fumagalli. “Dante, before you came to power, all those old Dons from the major families were falling over themselves to push their daughters at you. Was there ever one you actually wanted?” I stood half a step behind him, and my knuckles turned white around my wine glass. Dante did not answer right away. His gaze swept over me, cool and indifferent, before he turned toward Viviana Lombardi, who still held the crowd’s attention. “I wanted her.” Viviana spun around so fast that wine splashed from her glass onto her wrist. “Then why did you not come when I gave you that hotel key card all those years ago?” The calm on Dante’s face finally cracked. He frowned. “Your key card? Was that not for Enzo Ricci?” “How could it have been for Enzo?” Viviana’s eyes reddened. “He is my first cousin.” One question led to another and the truth emerged. That hotel key card had been handed to the wrong person by a Soldato. Because of that mistake, they had missed each other. Viviana burst into tears on the spot. Regret shadowed Dante’s expression. Just then, someone laughed softly. “What a coincidence. Was the key card really delivered to the wrong person, or did someone make sure it ended up in the wrong hands?” In an instant, every eye in the room turned to me. Everyone remembered me. I was the woman who used to trail after Dante Fumagalli like a lovesick fool. I turned to look at Dante and hoped he would say something for me. I hoped he would tell them we had been secretly married for five years and that he had been the one who pursued me back then. He said nothing. He did not defend me. He did not deny anything. He stared ahead in silence as if none of this had anything to do with him. In that moment, I pulled off the wedding ring I had worn for five years.

When I was five, I was kidnapped, and the people behind it memorized my face. To protect me, my older sister, Julianne, said, "Maddie, you need to stay out of sight for your own safety." From then on, she took my place whenever I was supposed to appear with my fiance, Adrian Moretti. At the grand opening of his casino, she said the crowd would be too dangerous, so she wore my dress and cut the ribbon beside him. At the Conti family's victory gala, she claimed our enemies might be lying in wait, so she took my invitation and danced with Adrian. After every event, she would pat my head and say: "Once the two of you are married, I can finally stop worrying." I always believed she was doing it for my sake. Then, before my wedding to Adrian, she put on my wedding gown and publicly stood in for me at the rehearsal. She posted pictures on her social media page. Wearing the gown that was supposed to be mine, she stood at the end of the aisle with her arm linked through Adrian's. The caption read: [I tested everything for Maddie first. It was all perfect.] The first comment underneath was from Adrian. [That dress suits you.] I stared at those words for a long time as my heart slowly turned cold. It was time to end this game of replacing me in the name of protecting me.

Someone at our college reunion suggested a game of Yes or No. By the time it was Luca Moretti’s turn, we were all a few drinks in. Even the men stationed outside the private dining room had relaxed a little. For one evening, everyone seemed willing to forget that the quiet boy from our finance lectures now ran the Moretti crime family. Chloe Russo glanced at me, something bright and knowing in her eyes, and dropped a handful of screenshots into the reunion group chat. They were from my private account. Seven years of loving Luca in secret, carefully preserved in 1,832 posts. “Elena says you’ve been together for seven years.” She tipped her head toward him. “Yes or no?” I looked at him before I could stop myself. For seven years, I had waited for a moment like this. No more pretending I was only the woman who ran his legitimate businesses. No more leaving the room separately. Just my name, spoken by him, and the truth at last. Luca was silent for a moment. “No.” Then, almost gently, he added, “We’re just friends. We’re not even that close.” Chloe slipped her arm through his and laughed. “That's what I thought. After all, your girlfriend's spot has always been reserved for me.” He didn’t correct her. The room went quiet. A few people looked at me with the careful, embarrassed kindness reserved for someone who has just humiliated herself in public. Someone else started talking too loudly about ordering another round. I lowered my eyes. The bracelet at Chloe’s wrist slipped out from under her sleeve: tiny pearls and green stones, strung by hand. It had taken me two weeks to make it when I was eighteen. Luca had given it away. On my phone, a confirmation box appeared. Permanently delete your account? I tapped Yes. All 1,832 posts disappeared. If he wanted us to be friends, I could do that.

In my last life, I loved my brother’s best friend longer than I loved myself. I was the princess of the De Luca family, a New York political dynasty. A good girl, through and through. He was Orion Corvo. The king of Chicago's underworld. A ruthless, brutal man. No one thought we belonged together. I never dared to confess. Not until I was kidnapped. That cold-blooded, savage Don took a bullet for me. He shielded me with his body as I bled out. We died together. Only then, seeing the desperation in his eyes, did I understand. He loved me too. Now, I'm back. 18 again. I ditched my life in Europe to stay by his side. For five years, I was his most trusted art appraiser. In private, he’d lose himself inside me. He fucked me like he wanted to own my soul. I became his favorite fuck. His biggest secret. But now, he’s getting married. And the bride isn't me.

The seventh time Dante Moretti served me divorce papers, I was sitting with my son in a cheap diner on Chicago's South Side. I forced a smile and brushed my hand over my son's hair. "Just wait a little longer, sweetheart. This time, Mommy will get custody of you." He stayed quiet for a long moment. Then he looked up and asked, “Mommy, how much do you need to sell me for before you're happy?” Before I could answer, he pulled a handwritten divorce agreement from his backpack and pushed it toward me. "I know you keep fighting Dad for me because you want more money from him." "I wrote the agreement for him. Please sign it. Dad is already tired. Stop making his life so hard." His handwriting was crooked, but every word had been written with care. Dante would give me three million dollars. At the bottom, in my son's childish scrawl, was one more line. [After you take the money, don't bother me, Dad, and Serena anymore. Let us be happy.] Serena was Dante's childhood sweetheart. The woman he trusted more than his own wife. For five years, I had stood against Dante's family, his lawyers, and half the Chicago underworld just to keep custody of my son. For him, I would've walked away with nothing. But the child I had raised for eight years had already chosen another mother. So why shouldn't I give their perfect little family exactly what they wanted?

I am someone with a strong desire to share every little detail with my lover. The blush of dawn outside the safe house window, a slightly-too-bitter espresso, the new flower shop on the corner. Even if Carlo's shadow just flickered through my mind for a moment, I couldn't stop myself from hitting send. His replies were always brief, but they were instant. I used to think that was just how a cold man like him showed his love. That all changed seven days before the wedding, when I found an AI auto-responder on the burner phone he never let out of his sight. It broke down every sentence I sent, categorizing them and extracting keywords to generate the most perfectly dismissive answers. When I said I missed him, it replied, "Behave." When I said I was scared, it replied, "I'll handle it." When I wanted to argue, it replied, "Be sensible." So, for half a year, the one replying to my messages was never Carlo. Meanwhile, in another chat window, the messages between him and another woman were piled high. From simple good mornings to random midnight thoughts, From secret talks about family business to whether they should take the yacht out on the weekend. I finally understood. Carlo wasn't a cold person. It wasn't that he didn't like to share his life; he just didn't want to share it with me. And I finally decided to make a heartbroken exit from this absurd charade.

Inside the Mate Bond Registry hall, our number was about to be called. But just as the clerk was reaching for our file, my best friend Maya held up her phone with a grin. On the screen, clear as day, was the cancellation confirmation. "Oh my God, Elara, you didn't actually think you were getting registered with Lucian today, did you?" "We started a bet yesterday, just to see how long it'd take you to figure it out." "Didn't expect you to stay clueless the whole time. You even wore a dress for the occasion." The people around us burst out laughing. Lucian was leaning back on a bench, completely unbothered, like none of this had anything to do with him. "You've been obsessing over this Mate Bond thing nonstop. You need to relax." "If I don't teach you a lesson now, are you gonna start tracking what time I patrol and what time I get back to the territory?" "Becoming my mate isn't that easy." The laughter got louder. That's when the registration clerk reminded me: "Miss Elara, today's registration window closes in less than twenty minutes. If you need a new number, you should get one now." Maya was laughing so hard she had to cover her mouth. "Hear that? Even the clerk feels bad for you." "Better go line up again. If Lucian changes his mind, you'll really be out of luck." I didn't respond to her. I just stepped away from Lucian's reaching hand, found the registration desk, and got a new number. Then I opened my phone and sent a voice message to someone else. "I lost a bet with my father. Per the terms, I have to marry you." "Bring the family seal and your identity scroll to the Mate Bond Registry. Ten minutes."