Plot Twists Mafia Short Stories & Bias Novels

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.

On the night of my engagement party, Luca Moretti walked his childhood sweetheart over to me. "Clara accidentally stained her dress," he said. "Let her borrow yours for a while." He added, "Everyone knows you're the main character tonight. It doesn't matter what you wear." I didn't bother objecting. The gown was already on her. I stood behind the half-closed back door in a borrowed black dress while his men laughed over their whiskey. "Luca, is your real fiancee going to lose it?" someone asked. Luca barely looked up from his glass. "Anna is going to be a Donna. She needs to learn grace." Another man snorted. "Besides, she's an orphan. Where's she gonna go without you?" Luca smiled. "She can't leave me." They didn't know I had never been an orphan. I had buried the Valenti name for five years because I wanted Luca to love me as Anna, not as the Valenti daughter. My father is the Mafia Chairman, the man every family answered to when the highest table met. That night, I took off the Moretti emerald ring, left it beside the guest book, and called home. "Papa, I’m not marrying Luca. Don't come to Chicago."

On the day I signed the divorce papers, I was ordered to leave with nothing. When I walked out of the Crane estate, I had twenty-six dollars in my wallet and nowhere safe to go. My phone was nearly dead when a message from an old classmate appeared on the screen, linking to a discreet placement notice. 【Seeking a live-in maternal figure for three children. Room, board, salary, and protection provided.】 I stopped at the word protection. A roof, a meal, and a place the Cranes could not reach me were already more than I had that night. The address led me to the iron gates of an old mansion on Chicago’s Gold Coast. Only after the butler opened the door did I learn who had placed the notice. Dante Bellandi. The Don of Chicago’s oldest Italian crime family. I had only wanted a place to stay. Somehow, I became the legal mother of the three Bellandi children and the contract wife of Dante Bellandi himself. Later, my ex-husband, Sebastian Crane, stood before me with the same careless arrogance and asked, “Do you realize you were wrong now?” Before I could answer, the triplets stepped in front of me. Little Livia clung to my leg, her eyes red. “My mom wasn’t wrong!” Her two brothers stood on either side of her, staring Sebastian down. Dante placed one hand at my waist, his voice calm enough to make the air turn cold. “Mr. Crane, my wife owes no explanation to a man who lost the right to speak to her.”

After getting reborn, I take the initiative to seek my mentor, Taddeo Pellegrini, out and agree to join the lifetime research project hosted by Cyranelle University. While Taddeo is delighted to hear my answer, he still double-confirms everything with me uneasily. "Patrizia, are you sure you want to fly to Elandor with me? The period of this research project is very long. There's a chance that you might not get to go home for the rest of your life. "Three days ago, Cristiano had specifically prepared that huge and grand proposal for you, didn't he? Isn't he the most influential Don of all of Norelia? Are you sure you want to give up on your identity as the Gallo family's Donna and go to another country with me instead?" I nod without hesitation. "Yes, I absolutely want this for myself." In my previous life, Cristiano Gallo kept drawing blood from me for my younger sister, Nina Luciani's sake. It resulted in my death in the hospital from the lack of blood. I had always been Nina's mobile blood bank, after all. Even when I died, I never left her side. Now that I've gotten a second chance in life, the first thing I need to learn is to live for myself. Hence, I accept Taddeo's academic offer and leave Istravia without any hesitation. This time, I choose to abandon my biased family as well as Cristiano, the man I've previously loved for a lifetime.

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.

Ethan and I met at a soup kitchen in the slums. We were fighting over half a moldy bread roll. I only learned his story from other people later. His father was the head of Lorencio's largest crime family, killed in a bloody power struggle from within. His mother took a payout and vanished. My father was an accountant for another family. He was framed for cooking the books and shot dead. Same story, same wound. That was what brought us together. We clawed our way up from a crumbling slum to the marble halls of the Lorencio crime families, until finally Ethan took his seat as Don of the Valeria Family. Nine years of marriage. No church. No proposal. Not even a proper cake. Then one day, out of nowhere, Ethan said he wanted to get me a diamond ring. "We had no church and no priest when we got married. I've been meaning to do this properly for a long time. And there'll be more to come." I stared at the custom diamond in the display case, enormous and flawless, and felt something close to happiness. The sales associate smiled and complimented his taste, mentioning that another couple had just ordered a ring too. They'd walked out minutes ago, planning a proposal for tomorrow. "Nine years together and still this in love. That's everything." I reached for his hand. He stepped away, said he needed to take a call. I hadn't heard his phone ring. I followed. Down the hallway, I watched him press a woman against the wall, his mouth on hers. His voice was sharp with jealousy. "You actually agreed to let him propose to you?" "Break it off. I'll buy you the ring." I stood frozen. My chest caved in. Then a pair of hands pulled me into a fitting room alcove. A man's breath was close, warm in the dark. A low voice, almost amused: "Your husband's sleeping with my fiancée. Why don't we give it a try too?"

On the day my husband, Martin Clark, took wedding photos with his secretary, I didn't cause a massive scene like I used to. Instead, I personally went to help them pick out the best shots. I even had the photos framed and hung them right in the living room for every visiting guest to see. Rumors spread like wildfire among the families of Sicilana that I was the most powerless donna, allowing any mistress or side-chick to climb over my head. I simply smiled and said nothing. Half a month later, Martin explained to me, "The photos were just a birthday wish of hers." I nodded obediently. "Okay." In my past life, the moment I saw those photos, I rushed right in front of Martin and threw a huge fit, even posting all of his explicit cheating photos onto social media. To punish me, Martin deliberately sabotaged my father’s shipping lines, causing our family to suffer devastating losses. Using the excuse that I was mentally ill, he sent me to a psychiatric hospital, where I was controlled with drugs and died within a few years. Now that I have a second chance, I won't harbor a single shred of love for Martin. I only want money! Every single time he has an affair, I will divert another one of the Clark family's shipping lines away. Right now, there are only three lines left. One more mistress, and the Clark family will be turned into an empty shell.

All I did was reach for a pastry Lila had her eye on, and my childhood sweetheart Luca, the Don's heir of Galvani family, had me thrown in the estate cellar for three days and three nights. His voice was as cold. "I've told you before, Lila is like a sister to me. Why can't you just let her be?" This time I didn't cry or beg. I just looked at him. I had been half out of my mind over this man for more than a decade. I had even slashed my own wrist in front of his father, just to force him into marrying me. Luca looked at me like he was disappointed all over again. "With a temper like yours, how could you ever be the Donna of Galvani family?" "Get down to the cellar and think about what you've done. Come back when you've come to your senses." Then, as if he couldn't quite help himself, he dropped his voice: "Look, as long as you come around and stop making Lila's life difficult, everything goes back to how it was. Okay?" I clenched my jaw. It felt like a blade pressed against my chest. "Okay," I said. Next month, the Don of the Ferrara family will marry me as his Donna. This time, I am done with Luca.

"Consigliere, I want a divorce from Cassius. I’m handing back all the businesses under my name. Draft up the papers." The old Consigliere frowned. "Camilla, this marriage keeps the peace between our two families. Can you think this over?" I was the frontwoman for Cassius Marino’s dirty empire for three years. In the shadows, I was this cold-blooded Don's legal wife. A month ago, a Mexican cartel kidnapped me. That night, the cartels blew up my husband's secure line, demanding a thirty-million-dollar ransom. He let it ring. They ended up throwing me into an abandoned meat locker in freezing temperatures. I almost froze to death. Luckily, a butcher stumbled in and dragged me out just in time. And on that very night, while I was dying, Cassius was in a Vegas penthouse pool... fucking Bianca. The woman who stole my life. Right then, my years of love for him just vanished. This hopeless marriage was a mistake from day one. I finally woke up. And this time, I was ready to vanish from his dark empire for good. "My mind is made up," I gave the old Consigliere a cold nod. "And Cassius won't object." I always knew the truth—my Don husband never loved me for a single second. But I'd looked up to him like a fool since I was a little girl. Three years ago, when he casually asked if I wanted to marry him, I actually cried happy tears and said yes. Soon, the clock would strike midnight. It would be our third anniversary. I had the perfect final gift ready for the almighty Don—a divorce. Freedom for him, and for me.

On the day of the funeral, Marcus asked me to share him with his sisters-in-law. The moment the news broke, Selena, the eldest brother's wife, hurled her wine glass to the floor. Vivian, the second brother's wife, raised her voice and tore into Marcus for having no sense of decency. But the Hartley family's men dropped to their knees, begging the two widows to become Marcus’s mistresses, to carry on the bloodline in honor of their fallen husbands. I stood off to the side watching, and something in me snapped. I shoved through the crowd, slammed my hands on the long table, and demanded to know exactly what Marcus thought I was to him. I called him no better than a thug. Then I turned on the two sisters-in-law, called them frauds in widow's clothing, and by the end I'd said something unforgivable to just about everyone in that room. After that, I couldn't let it go. I hired a lawyer and sued them for fraud, for a staged marriage. They turned it around on me and said I was plotting to swallow the entire Hartley estate and drive what was left of the family into the ground. My father's business was sabotaged again and again. Three key shipping routes went dark. The dockyard was seized. I was thrown out of the estate and died in a damp basement in Sicily, with no doctor and no family. The landlord found me when he came to collect rent. I only learned the truth after I died. They'd been working together all along. His public reveal of the mistress was merely meant to drive me to snap, giving him a valid excuse to end our marriage. Then I opened my eyes. I was back in that living room, on that same day. The portraits of the two brothers sat on the long table. Selena stood in a black dress, eyes rimmed red. "Marcus, your brother's body is barely cold, and you want us to be your mistresses?" Vivian wore a pale blouse, her voice trembling. "I'd sooner die than betray your brother." This time around, I was going to give them exactly what they asked for.

I was engaged to Silas, Don of the Vance Famiglia, yet in the annual family portrait, I was shoved into the back corner. Standing right beside him was Camilla, his most trusted Capo. He sighed impatiently. "We have plenty of photos together, Scarlett. Missing one won't kill you. You're the future Donna. Stop being so petty." I swallowed my pride and gave up my spot. But my compromise bought me nothing. The necklace meant for me ended up around Camilla's neck. His plus-one to galas became Camilla. His excuse was always the same: "She's a vital part of the syndicate. You shouldn't compete with her." So, I gave him exactly what he wanted. I stopped being petty. I shredded the wedding planner I had poured my heart into, trashed our photos, and left New York for good. And suddenly, the cold, calculating Don was tearing the city apart looking for me.

When Luca Moretti chose the jewelry for our wedding, he still bought two pieces and let my twin sister Bianca choose first. One was a ruby cuff from a Sicilian auction. The other was an off-the-rack black onyx bracelet, the kind sold in every mall jewelry store. For the first time, I reached before Bianca could. I pointed at the ruby cuff. "This time, can I choose first?" Luca set his palm on my head with the easy affection he used to make me behave. "Bianca has always been stubborn about quality. If it's not the best, she won't take it. You don't care about this stuff, Elena. The other piece isn't bad." I didn't answer right away. Something inside my chest went quiet. In my own family, Bianca always got the first slice, the clean seat, and the room with the view. My mother said she needed the best because she carried the Bellini name better. My father called it practical. Marriage worked that way too. The Bellinis and Morettis had promised one daughter to the Moretti heir long before either of us knew what love was. Everyone assumed that daughter would be Bianca. Instead, she made her position crystal clear: she'd rather keep her freedom and her spotless public image than become Mrs. Moretti. So Luca turned to the remaining Bellini daughter. I had known Luca for twenty years, and in his world, I always stood behind Bianca. I looked at the black onyx bracelet on the table and pushed it back. "Bianca can have both. I'm not choosing." I didn't want another leftover choice. Not anymore.

When I catch Antonio Ragusa in bed with another woman for the ninth time, he doesn't even look afraid. All he does is glance at the time, get out of bed, and hand his jacket to the woman in bed. Then, he looks at me and asks, "What did the doctor say at your prenatal checkup? Why are you back so early?" When he sees me staring at the woman on the bed, he steps forward to block my sight. "I lost control for a moment. She isn't to blame. If you're mad, just take it out on me." Antonio thinks I'm going to react the way I always do—screaming and starting another fight with my face flushed with rage. But he never expects that this time, I simply smile when I hear it. He's probably forgotten that the five-year alliance between our Famiglie is almost over. And when it does, I can walk away for good.

Seven days after my twin sister Bianca suffered cardiac arrest and slipped into a coma, my fiancé Matteo De Luca sat beside her ICU bed, holding her cool hand through the night. “So you were telling the truth.” “If I don’t marry you, you really will die.” “Bianca, wake up, and I’ll marry you immediately.” After his promise, her pulse quickened on the monitor, and Bianca opened her eyes. Everyone called it a miracle. Only then did I learn that Bianca was a Contract Holder, and the man she had been assigned to win was Matteo—the man I had loved for five years and was about to marry. His promise had only stabilized her. According to Bianca, the contract would not be complete until the marriage became legal. That same night, our two mafia families rewrote the wedding plans. The De Luca chapel remained booked. The reception, guest list, and priest stayed the same. My mother placed the De Luca heirloom veil that had been fitted for me on Bianca’s head, my father ordered the lawyers to replace my name on the marriage documents, and Matteo slid my engagement ring onto her finger. They were relieved that Bianca had survived and assumed I could wait. Standing outside her room, I watched Matteo kiss her hand as the system spoke inside my mind. 【Target individual is preparing to marry another Contract Holder.】 【Original task entering failure countdown.】 They did not know I was a Contract Holder too. Bianca and I had received the same task, with the same man as our target. She was awake. Now I was the one marked for erasure.

I once believed Adrian DeLuca was the most dependable man in a dangerous world. We had been engaged for years. Before family dinners, major investments, or decisions that could affect the balance between powerful families, I usually asked for his opinion. I believed that was what two people building a life together were supposed to do. I believed he would always stand beside me. Eventually, Adrian grew tired of being needed. He wanted me to trust my own judgment, stop asking about his schedule, and stop bringing every concern to him. At the same time, he gave his patience and protection to Mia Caruso, a newly graduated intern at the family hospital. She wore his coat, used things that belonged to me, answered his phone from a hotel room, then smiled and reminded me that Adrian only saw her as someone he needed to protect. So I became exactly as independent as he wanted. I stopped reporting my plans. I stopped waiting for him to come home. I stopped needing his protection. That was when Adrian finally became afraid.

I have been in love with the Don of the Southern mafia family, Luca Fernandez, for ten whole years. During that time, we tried to get married eighty-eight times. Yet, not a single wedding ever happened. Every wedding was canceled at the last minute because of some sudden “emergency”. The first time he called it off was five years ago. His assistant, Rita Sterling, had messed up a cargo inspection down at the docks. Luca rushed off to handle it, leaving me alone to finish our wedding photos. The second time, Rita was captured by a rival family. Luca literally turned his back on me and walked out to pay the ransom, leaving me standing all by myself in front of the priest. The third time, Rita was being tailed, so the entire wedding had to be postponed. It didn’t matter when we scheduled our wedding. Without fail, Rita would suffer some kind of crisis at exactly that moment. Finally, I had had enough. I took off my wedding dress, walked out of the chapel, and decided to call it quits for good. However, after I had boarded my plane to leave, Luca went mad searching the entire city for me.

On the day I was supposed to get matching tattoos with Zach Cross, I waited at the studio from sunrise until nightfall. The tattoo artist glanced at me nervously. “Miss Annie, is the Godfather still coming? Maybe we should reschedule.” I lowered my eyes and forced a smile. “He promised he’d be here. I’ll wait a little longer.” Two hours later, Zach finally arrived. He was not alone. Julie Williams walked in behind him. She was carrying his jacket. When she saw me sitting in the tattoo chair, she offered an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, Annie. I had no idea you two had a tattoo appointment today. Otherwise, I would’ve never asked Zach to pick me up from the airport.” Zach walked right past me. He glanced around the empty studio and said, “Let's begin.” Before I could say a word, he pointed at the tattoo chair and turned to Julie. “You first.” Julie froze for a second. She glanced at me, then reluctantly took the seat. The tattoo artist turned to look at me. Standing off to the side, I overheard Zach’s men whispering among themselves. “After all these years, Miss Julie is still the perfect match for the Godfather.” “Yeah. It’s a shame things didn’t work out back then.” I looked at Zach. I knew he had heard every word. However, instead of denying it, he turned to me and said coldly, “Julie’s here today. Watch your attitude. Don’t embarrass me.” My gaze drifted to his left hand’s ring finger. It was still bare. He once told me he would hide my name inside the petals of a rose tattoo—a secret only the two of us would ever know about. I worked with the tattoo artist through seven different revisions to get the design just right. When he proposed, he held my hand and said, “The most painful mark I’ll ever wear will belong to you alone.” I put on a bitter smile. Unfortunately, none of the marks he carried had ever truly belonged to me.

Because of the death of his first love, Don Stefano Giullani has hated me for eight years. During those eight years, I make every effort to please him—I broker arms deals for him, handle smuggling routes, and even take bullets meant for him. Even when he sees me barely clinging to life, Stefano only says, "If you really wanted to please me, you should have let the bullet hit somewhere fatal." I press my hand over the wound and stare deeply at him. Later, on the night our enemies surround the casino and it's raining bullets, Stefano pushes me away from him. He's riddled with bullets himself while saving me. Before he dies, he shields me and gets me safely into the car. Once the car door closes, he says softly, "In the next life, I don't want to meet you again." After Stefano dies, his Madre slaps me hard across the face. "Why wasn't it you who died? If I had known it would come to this, I would have let him marry Lucia! "It's all my fault for forcing him to marry you. You deserve to die!" She slaps me again, causing me to lose my footing and fall into the sea. Everyone just stands on the boat, watching in silence. Seawater fills my nose, and when I open my eyes again, I find myself reborn eight years into the past—to the day before Stefano and I are about to get married. This time, I will do as he wishes. I'll stop clinging to him. I'll allow him and Lucia to be together.

Eight months pregnant, I went into labor at the exact same time as my husband Jason's sister-in-law after a fall. But Jason thought I was trying to fight for the family inheritance. "Janet, I told you the family has already accepted Rachel's child as the future heir of the Martinez family. I never expected you'd go this far—hurting yourself—just for the so-called birthright. I'm so disappointed in you." According to family rules, the first child born into the Martinez family is the future heir, inheriting everything. They thought that because I married in as an "ordinary" woman, I would covet that inheritance. But that crown? It wasn't worthy of my child. What I never expected was that, the moment Jason walked out, his sister Ashley would deliberately inject me with a drug to stall my labor. "Janet, Rachel's child is the one who should inherit this family. Your baby? He doesn't qualify." "Don't worry. Once Rachel's baby is safely delivered, I'll make sure you're well taken care of." With that, she turned and left me alone in that empty, godforsaken room. The pain was unbearable. I fought with everything I had to protect my baby. I screamed for help, but no one answered. In the end, I pressed the signal button my father had given me. Dad—please, save me and my baby.

I spent six months and over $300,000 planning our wedding trip to the Maldives. We had invited both sets of parents. It was supposed to be a small family wedding before we started our married life. I was a dock captain, running Pier Seventeen on my own and making more in one month than Ethan made in a year as an ordinary office employee. But when his childhood sweetheart Bianca heard about the trip, she begged to come with her parents. Ethan agreed without hesitation. He changed my parents’ first-class tickets to economy and gave their seats to Bianca’s parents instead. His whole family supported his decision without a second thought. So I changed my own travel plans. I canceled the villa, the private ceremony, and the wedding dinner in the Maldives, then took my parents somewhere else. That was when Ethan finally started to panic.