Plot Twists Mafia Short Stories & Bias Face Slapping Novels

On the night of my 18th birthday, Enzo Vitale holds me by the waist as he coaxes me to take off my underwear. "Good girl. You have a beautiful body, Isabella. Let me take a good look at you." But just when I'm about to reach my climax, the spotlight is turned on. The floor-to-ceiling mirror in front of me becomes a see-through one-way mirror. On the other side of the mirror shows the faces of all the guests who are here to attend my birthday party. Soon, the racy video of my lustful side is spread all over Newlyn. My reputation gets flushed down the drain overnight, and yet Enzo's reputation remains unaffected. On the night we break up, he leaves me a message. "Your brother had watched my sister getting kidnapped by others back then. Now, it's your turn to have a taste of what it feels like, Isabella. You owe me this much." My older brother, Marco Rossi, is enraged, to say the least. When he tries to demand an explanation from Enzo, he gets his legs broken by Enzo's bodyguards instead. Marco drags his broken legs home. But on his way home, he gets into a car crash due to severe pain and blood loss, reducing him to a vegetable. In order to afford the daily eight-thousand-dollar ICU bill, I become the most famous stripper in Newlyn. For the next three years, I flit between various nightclubs in Newlyn as well as various men's beds. I've been trading my pride and body in exchange for checks. Three years later, I knock on a hotel room's door as usual. The door opens, revealing a man wearing a custom-ordered dark gray suit. It's Enzo. He's thinner now, and his cheekbones protrude even more. His eyes are as glacial as frozen lakes. I smile brightly at him. "Sir, would you like any special services?"

The second day after I was transferred back to Los Angeles, I ran into someone I used to know on a street corner. She stepped right in front of me, eyes going wide. “Mia? Mia Rossi? Why would you come back now? Dante's marrying Camille at the cathedral in a week.” Dante was my first love, and also the youngest heir to a mafia dynasty on this side of the Atlantic. He'd made me a promise once: that he'd make the entire Moretti family kneel and welcome me in. We had a deal: the day he officially took over as Don would be the day he married me. But his family had other plans. They arranged a match for him: Camille, a princess from one of Sicily's five great families. Pure bloodline, the genuine article. At first, Dante swore up and down she meant nothing to him. Less than nothing. Then I started noticing how he looked at her. Softer every time. Like he was falling. One night, riding home after a shift at the bar, Camille's car came out of nowhere and took me down. The gas tank caught, and half the block reeked of burning rubber and scorched metal. I was pinned under the wreckage, blood seeping from the back of my skull down my neck, warm at first, then cold. Dante was the first one there. He beat the ambulance. The first thing he did was walk past me. He crouched down, lifted Camille out of the passenger seat, and didn't look at me once, just dropped a few words over his shoulder: “I already called an ambulance. Hang tight. Camille's had too much to drink. I need to get her home.” That was the moment I was done with him. Completely, finally done. While he was gone, I discharged myself. I bought the farthest plane ticket I could find that same night and left without looking back. Five years passed. “Mia, you have no idea.” The woman grabbed my wrist, dropping her voice. “Dante spent years turning half of Europe upside down looking for you. You came back at the right time. He still keeps a seat for you every month on his birthday. Camille's too proud for a lot of things,

Three days before our wedding, I found out I was pregnant with Matteo Calderone's baby. I hurried to tell him, only to find my best friend, Raffaella Moro, crying in his arms. "What am I going to do... It's his baby... That man from the projects... He forced me..." Matteo gently patted her back, his chin resting on her head. His voice was softer than I'd ever heard it. "Don't be scared. I promise you, I'll take care of you and the baby. "Even after I'm married, this will be the only child I ever have." I stood around the corner in the hallway, the doctor's report crumpled in my fist. For three years, I'd followed them everywhere. I'd taken a knife for Raffaella, fought Matteo's fights, and cleaned up more of their messes than I could count. I did it all because I couldn't bear to lose either of them: my boyfriend or my best friend. Raffaella cried herself out and fell asleep in Matteo's arms. Finally, Matteo turned around and glanced at me. "Oh, right, Elena. How did your checkup go?" I opened my mouth, but barely got a word out. He waved me off and turned back to Raffaella. "You're strong and healthy. I'm sure you're fine. Raffaella's been through so much. I need to stay with her. Don't overthink it." I stayed where I was. I watched him hold Raffaella's hand and brush a tear from the corner of her eye with his thumb. The wall lights cast their shadows across the floor until they merged into one. I stood at the edge of their shadows and realized there was no place for me beside them. I stuffed the report into my pocket, turned, and left the exam room. I took out my satellite phone and called the number I'd saved three years ago but never used. "Father, I lost. "I'm ready to do what the family wants."

My ex, Luca Romano, had a rival family on his tail, so he begged me to hide him at my family's private estate for five days. For old times' sake, I agreed and gave him a temporary passcode that would work for five days. Five days later, I finished my work out of town and returned to the estate. When I entered the passcode, the door wouldn't open. Someone had changed it. I rang the doorbell. A woman I had never seen before came out wearing my nightgown. She yawned as if she owned the place. The moment she saw me, she looked at me with disgust. "So you're the ex-girlfriend who won't leave Luca alone? "You two already broke up, and now you're showing up at his place in the middle of the night? Don't you have any shame?"

The Moretti family had an old tradition. Whenever a new Don took over, he raised his first glass to the person he was most grateful to. When Damian Moretti became Don, everyone assumed that first glass would be mine. When he was at his lowest, I married him, bringing with me two of my family's shipping routes and 200 million dollars in cash. I was the one who made him Don. But Damian raised his glass and said softly, "The person I'm most grateful to is Rosie Carter." The whole room broke into an uproar. She was a member of the Moretti family I'd never even noticed before. Beaming with excitement, she took the glass from Damian and punched him playfully on the shoulder. "Don't get all sappy on me. We're practically brothers. We've even shared a bed." Awkward laughter rippled around the room. Damian didn't laugh. "Ten years ago, I was badly wounded and on the run. Rosie hid me in the safe house beneath the nightclub. "We slept in the same bed in that cramped little room for four months. "But without her, I wouldn't have survived." Rosie tipped back her head and drained the glass that should have been mine. Every eye in the room turned to me, waiting to see how the Bellini family's heir would handle it. I removed the brooch symbolizing the alliance between our two families, set it on the table, and texted my father. "Withdraw our votes for Damian." "Starting tonight, Don Moretti can fend for himself."

My fiancée and I had been together for ten years. In everyone's eyes, we were the perfect couple. After she saved my life, with tears in my eyes, I made her a promise: "In this lifetime, I'll do 100 things for you." On the eve of our wedding, we decided to climb a snow-covered mountain. An unexpected avalanche struck, and we were stranded at a local farmhouse. Her first love, who was the expedition leader, was injured while trying to save her. In the confusion, he accidentally took an aphrodisiac rather than a painkiller. My fiancée, who had always seemed so traditional and reserved, did not hesitate. She began taking off her clothes, saying she needed to "help" him. Everyone waited for me to explode in rage. Instead, I calmly stepped aside. Three promises remained. Once they were fulfilled, Yvette Jenkins and I would owe each other nothing. However, then it would be time for me to return… and take over my mafia family.

The annual Family dinner was in full swing, the clink of glasses and hum of conversation filling the air. Paige, never one for a kind word, stumbled over, a glass of wine in her hand, her breath reeking of cheap booze. "You know," she said, a sly, knowing grin on her face, "I used to be jealous as hell of you. He's a Capo. He runs a whole borough." "A lot of good that's done you, huh? Still stuck in the slums, where gunshots are your nightly lullaby." I heard the mockery in her voice. The list for the Family's secure compound was out, and once again, my name wasn't on it. I held my own glass, my voice steady. "They're Family rules. Not even Dean can break them. A Capo's wife still has to toe the line." She let out a sudden, sharp laugh. "Five years ago, when the first group moved, your name was at the very top of the list! Dean crossed it off himself. Five years in a row, all to build that pristine reputation of his..." Before she could finish, one of the dock enforcers nearby clamped his hand over her mouth. I glanced around the room. The men and women who had been flirting and laughing just moments before now avoided my gaze. Only Dean remained as he was, sitting ramrod straight, not a flicker of shame on his face. He held a half-smoked cigar between his teeth, his voice low and gravelly. "What she said is true. I approved the placements for the compound." "They're for the widows of our brothers who bled and died for this Family. They need a safe place more than you do." "Let others fight and claw for survival. You are my woman. A Capo's wife. You have to understand what it means to see the bigger picture." I smiled, but tears streamed down my face. So that was it. So, does our son have to be an orphan on paper, the child of a fallen hero, to finally get a private doctor and a safe home?

Back home in Sicily, there’s a rule. If I’m not married by 30, I go back for an arranged marriage. When I told my boyfriend, Jax, he scoffed. "What century is your hometown stuck in? The Middle Ages? Arranged marriages? Alessia, I said I'd marry you. Stop trying to force my hand with this pathetic drama." He casually pulled out a pigeon-blood ruby ring and tossed it to his personal assistant, Bianca. She caught it, blushing. "I was going to propose tonight. But since you’re so desperate, I think we both need to cool off." The ring I’d waited years for. He just threw it to someone else. My heart froze over. Jax walked out of my office with a conqueror's smirk. Bianca pushed the ring toward me. I didn't even look at it. "Take it. It’s your size, isn't it?" The color drained from her face. I shoved her out the door. Right before I slammed it shut, I said, "Tell your boss we're done." He didn't know the "elders" forcing me into this marriage were led by the most ruthless Godfather in Sicily. And the "blind date" was an arranged union with the Don of the North American Five Families.

I'm the so-called 'Lady of Glory'—yeah, that girl from the Archbishop's prophecy. They said I'd bring endless glory to whatever Family I married into. But at our engagement party, my fiancé—Marco Falcone—swaggered onstage holding hands with his pregnant stripper girlfriend. Then he grabbed my wrist, dragged me forward, and made me kiss her hand. "Lola's the only woman I'll ever call my wife," he said with a smug little grin. "If you still want this marriage, your De Luca money better support her and the baby." I slapped him. Ripped the contract in half. Let it snow confetti. "Please. I can marry someone a hundred times better." Right when I was about to torch the entire Falcone Family, someone stepped out of the shadows. Marco's older brother, Dante Falcone. The one who'd been injured, underestimated, and pushed aside. He locked eyes with me, totally unfazed. "Signorina De Luca, do your words still stand?"

To restore my crush's right to inherit his mafia family, I gave him one of my corneas. But when he regained his sight, my family chose to have my older sister marry him instead of me. In my past life, I tried to find him and explain everything, but he rejected me. My own family exiled me, and I died on the night of wedding between him and my sister. Then I'm reborn—back before I was exiled . This time, I choose to leave my Mafia pack and my crush willingly.. But that cold, heartless Mafia Boss? He completely fell apart.

On the day the weapons deposit was due, my fiancé suddenly gave the money to a rival family’s daughter. A subordinate reminded him, “Don Sanchez, what about Miss Anna?” “For the sake of this weapons deal, Miss Anna hasn’t bought a single new dress for three years. If she finds out you gave the hard-earned deposit to Miss Lily, won’t she be angry?” Jackson only curled his lips indifferently. “Anna? It’s fine. She has the password to my safe. “Even if she knows I gave the money to someone else, she’ll just sell her jewelry and make up the amount. “She loves me and can’t be without me. It won’t affect our wedding.” I stood at the door, listening in silence. Then I smiled, turned, and left as if I had heard nothing. I didn’t urge him to pay the deposit, nor did I ask about the weapons deal. What Jackson didn’t know was that while he was trying to please Lily, I was pursuing my own goals. Even my years of frugality were never for him.

As the family's Chief Counsel, I busted my ass for four years. When the family's new rackets launched, my promised twenty-five percent cut was slashed to three. Christian, the Don, patted my shoulder. "It's all for the family." I didn't cause a scene. From the next day on, I clocked in on time, clocked out on time, and refused to do a single thing outside my contract. Two weeks later, the family's core rackets ground to a halt. Our partners threatened a turf war. Christian cornered me at my desk. His eyes were bloodshot. "Vittoria, what exactly do you want?" I glanced at my watch. It was five thirty. "Christian, I'm off the clock."

The Fiancé My Best Friend Stole Five years after Luca Bellandi’s disappearance, I met him again at my best friend’s wedding. He was the groom, and I was merely a bridesmaid. Sophia, my closest friend and the bride, clung to my arm joyfully, chattering about their love story. “I’m the one who saved Luca after his car crash. I heard he had a fiancée back then, but I secretly took him to my family’s private hospital for treatment.” “You shouldn’t keep searching for your missing fiancé. All the groomsmen here are so handsome. Let me set you up with someone!”

When Julian, the true heir by blood, was finally brought back to the Family, my cold-blooded adoptive parents cast me aside. They sent me to "The Abyss"—a clandestine hellhole where billionaires and mafia bosses paid to hunt, rape, and slaughter human prey. No matter how humiliatingly I begged for mercy, I remained locked in an iron cage, passed around as prey for those bloodthirsty beasts. Days later, a photo of me—covered in whip marks, kneeling like a dog with a chain around my neck—made its way to my beloved fiancée, Vivienne. Standing before the press, the untouchable Mafia Princess sneered, her voice dripping with disgust. "He’s pathetic and utterly filthy. The Valenti family would never align with such trash. I'll be marrying Julian instead." On cue, the Russo family officially disowned me, permanently stripping me of their name. After I was tortured to death, the wedding of the century commenced, broadcast live worldwide to celebrate the alliance between two major mafia families. But right then, my "wedding gift" was delivered. When the box was opened, the entire room went dead silent.

The day I bought the limited-edition Aston Martin, I drove it straight to a private clinic. I ordered the surgeon to remove my corneas. In my last life, on Halloween night, my boyfriend’s childhood friend, Gia, stole my car keys. She took him and his gutter-trash friends to an underground casino in Brooklyn. High on coke, she floored it. She ran down the New York Mafia Don’s wife and only heir at an intersection. But her friends swore to the Don’s enforcers that I was the one behind the wheel. When the Don's capo pressed a gun to my forehead, I trembled, desperately explaining Gia was the driver. She just shrank into my boyfriend's arms, sobbing. “Sera, I know you hate that we grew up together. But you can’t frame me to save your own skin.” My boyfriend, Rocco, threw a doctored surveillance video into the pool of blood at the Don's feet. On the screen, a terrified woman who looked exactly like me slammed on the gas, killed two people, and fled. “Seraphina, still trying to play the untouchable heiress? Even framing Gia? You’re pathetic.” The enraged Don lost his mind. He had his men shoot me eighteen times. Every single bullet shattered a bone. When I opened my eyes again, I was back. The day before Halloween. The night before that bitch touched my keys.

My fiancé, Colton Russo, sold me to human traffickers in Southeast Asia. He handed me over himself. We'd been engaged since we were children, but he was in love with my adopted sister. He was so desperate to end our engagement that he destroyed it himself. He sold me on my birthday. I was still wearing my couture gown when he led me onto the ferry. He used the money from selling me to buy my adopted sister, Beth Greco, the exact same couture gown. When he returned, Colton knelt outside our estate and put on a show of remorse in front of my father. "This is my fault. If I'd stayed right beside her, she never would have slipped and fallen into the sea. It's all on me." After that, Beth was the only daughter in the house. Then she took my place as Colton's fiancée. I ran errands in casinos. People stubbed out cigarettes on my collarbone. I almost died in the cargo hold of a smuggler's boat. The last time I was sold, I escaped and hid in an underground clinic. Dr. Walter Hayes saved me there. I started calling him Uncle Walt. He taught me how to identify medications and stitch wounds, then sent me to school. On the day I earned my medical degree, I took a bullet for Lorenzo Marchetti, the Don, in a street shootout. He fell for me on the spot. Before long, I became his Donna. I had a hand in the family's most important business and a real say in its decisions. Then the list of candidates for promotion landed on my desk. That was when I saw a name I knew. I picked up a pen, crossed out Colton's name, and told Lorenzo, "Colton's past won't stand up to scrutiny. He shouldn't be promoted. He should be thrown out of the family."

After my parents dead, I was taken in by one of his closest friends—the Draycotts. Kaelen Draycott, their only son, treated me like I was family. And I, stupidly, fell for him. When I confessed, he called me sick. Evil. Disgusting. From that day on, he made my life hell. He brought women home, loud enough for me to hear everything. Just to remind me where I stood. When it came down to it, he saved his fiancée. Left me to be shot, mocked, and forgotten. I knew what he was capable of. So this time, I made the choice. I’m leaving. And knowing how much he hates me— Let my farewell be the best wedding gift he’ll ever get.

The Mad Donna He Never Really Married For three years, I was Donna of the rising Valenti family. One day, Enzo was holding a meeting at a private cigar club. I worried about his stomach issues, so I went to bring him his usual antacids. Standing outside the private room, I heard his men laughing. “Don Enzo, are you really going to keep Clara hidden away at the Silver Lake villa forever?” “That mad Moretti heiress in the main house is still parading around as Donna of the Valenti family.” Enzo rubbed the bridge of his nose and scoffed. “If she hadn’t taken a bullet to the head for me and gone insane, and if I hadn’t desperately needed her family’s capital, I never would have married a woman with no blood ties to the life.” “But Clara is my legal wife. The family trust, the marriage certificate at City Hall, it’s all in her name.” “Stella’s just a plaything I keep at the main house. Once Clara gives birth to an heir, I’ll bring her home for good.” My knuckles turned white as I squeezed the small box of medicine, the cardboard crumpling in my hand. He had exchanged blood oaths and rings with me in the church, yet it was Clara who had signed the papers at City Hall. He played me for a fool, all to keep Clara’s reputation clean. Clutching the box, I turned and melted back into the shadows. He had no idea my sanity had returned three days ago. He would never guess I had already sent an encrypted message to my brother, who runs a business empire from our home in Solaria, far across the sea. I was done with this goddamn Valenti title.

Everyone knew that I was the treasure Lorenzo Vitali held in the palm of his hand. When I said I wanted to see the stars, he would have every light outside the estate shut off, leaving the whole night sky just for me. Any emerald I glanced at twice at a private auction, he would win for me, no matter the competition, no matter the price. Back then, I believed, and so did everyone else, that I would walk into the Vitali family chapel in a wedding gown and become Lorenzo's wife. Until that dinner party. I accidentally cut Bianca Rossi's cheek with a shattered wine glass. And everything fell apart. Lorenzo didn't hear me out. He had his men take me down to the wine cellar beneath the estate. There were no windows, only damp stone walls, and an iron door as thick as a coffin lid. For three days I had no water, no food. When the pain made me shake, all I could do was curl up on the ground and claw at the cold cracks in the stone with my nails.

After I get drugged by my stepmother and gets delivered to Don Edoardo Ariani's private cruise ship, I tell her smilingly, "Oh, there's no need to take me there. I'm already home, after all." My entire family thinks that I'm hallucinating, so they start berating me angrily. "Chiara, Gina has racked up a huge gambling debt. Only Edoardo is capable of saving us now. He loves pure and innocent women like you the most. As long as you can serve him well for one night, our family will be able to tide over this crisis. "Once Gina has paid off her debt, you'll have received benefits from Edoardo as his lover. By then, we'll be able to experience what it feels like to be a billionaire!" The drugs' effects on me have yet to fade, but this family—the people whom I trust the most in this lifetime—doesn't even hesitate to drag me into the most luxurious suite of the cruise ship. No one knows that Edoardo has kneeled before me and pleaded for me to help him establish his forces in Siceria seven years ago. Tonight, my family has personally delivered me to his suite. Tomorrow, I'm pretty sure that there will be a few extra bodies floating on the sea.