Plot Twists Mafia 단편 소설 & Bias 소설

My boyfriend had a border collie named Milo that he treated like his own child. No matter how broke we were, Milo never went without. We waited outside the warehouse club for its 10 p.m. bread markdowns, then bought Milo fresh seafood flown in that morning. We worked until conjunctivitis left our eyes bloodshot and still didn't dare take a day off, all so we could send Milo to a summer camp that cost more than three thousand dollars. I always thought Lucian simply loved animals too much, that people could tough it out but Milo shouldn't have to suffer. Until the Calloway heir threw a lavish banquet in the north end of town for his beloved pet's birthday. I snuck in hoping to take home some food for Milo, only to discover that the host was my boyfriend, Lucian Calloway, and the birthday pet was Milo. A single napkin at their table was worth more than my entire year's salary. A guest tossing off a casual compliment about how silky the coat looked walked away with a generous reward. That was when it hit me: with a snap of his fingers, Lucian could have paid to treat the stomach and eye problems I'd developed from overwork. And there I was, the fool who'd hidden my medical reports to save money, gutting it out year after year. Maybe in his mind, spending money on strangers and the dog was a better investment than spending it on me. So it was time for me to leave. I pulled out my phone and dialed a number I hadn't called in a long time. "The marriage alliance with the Bennetts. I accept."

On our tenth wedding anniversary, I was trapped in a cabin with my daughter, Sofia Costello, as floodwaters raged outside. With shaking hands, I used the emergency satellite phone to call my mafia husband, Henson Costello, and begged for help. I dialed more than 90 times before the call finally went through, yet all I heard was the breathy moans of his first love, Angelina Rossi, on the other end. "Henson...slower..." Before I could even process the shock of his betrayal, I heard a conversation that sent me straight into hell. "That kid was dead weight anyway. Trading him for control of Pier 9 was the best deal the family ever made." It seemed that Leo Costello, my son, who had supposedly drowned at the beach five years ago, had not died in an accident after all. Henson had used him as part of a business deal. All this time, I had been drowning in guilt for taking him to that beach, blaming myself for the tragedy. I never knew the truth was this cruel. Tears streamed down my face as my body shook uncontrollably. After ten years of marriage, I finally realized I had never truly known the man I loved and sacrificed everything for. I picked up my phone again and dialed Vincenzo Moretti's number. "Vince, I'll marry you. But you have to help me destroy the Costello family from power." After a brief silence, his voice came through the line. "Aurelia Astor, I've been waiting ten years to hear you say that."

The first time Rafael betrayed me, he threw the woman from his club at my feet. His eyes were bloodshot as he told me to take my pick. My love for him was a sickness, so I forgave the transgression. For the second betrayal, I had the dancer sent out of New York, warning her never to set foot on the East Coast again. On the night of our engagement party, sealing the union of our two families, Rafael pinned me against the walnut desk in the study. His eyes burned with rage as he demanded: "Where is Nina? She's carrying a Mancini heir." "It was a mistake. You can take your anger out on me. Nina is naive; she doesn't deserve this. I'm begging you, just let the child be born safely. I swear I'll never see her again." "You're afraid of childbirth. This gives you an heir without the risk." "Listen, Alessia. You are the future Donna of the Mancini family. When that child is born, it will know only you as its mother. I swear on my life." He forced me backward until shards from the vase I'd knocked over cut into my skin, staining my silk dress with blood. I looked at him and smiled, then gave him the address of a safe house in Brooklyn. He slammed the heavy oak door behind him. Shaking, I pulled out my encrypted phone. "You were right about him. Is your offer still on the table?"

While the Famiglia is choosing the territories where they will base their operations, everyone gathers around my younger twin sister, Clara Lombardi, to discuss the matter. My older brother, Giulio Lombardi, points at the map. "We're going to Millano, of course. I've already set up several luxury boutiques and real estate firms there. Besides, it's safer in Millano. It's the perfect choice for us!" Nicolo Piazza, the Consigliere, shakes his head in disagreement. "No, Clara. Don't listen to him. We should break into the medical industry together. I can help you turn the Famiglia's entire fortune into legitimate income within the next year." Nicolo and Giulio continue arguing heatedly while Mamma and Papa watch the scene with amused smiles. "Clara, we're not going to have to worry about handing the Famiglia affairs to you with the two of them by your side." A very long time later, they finally remember that I'm also there. Nicolo walks over to me and speaks in a gentle voice. "Julia, you're not familiar with the Famiglia business. So, once Clara makes her decision, you can just tag along with us." Giulio chimes in without even looking up at me. "Right. Besides, it's not like you have good grades anyway. You can wait a couple of years before concerning yourself with the Famiglia affairs." I stand rooted to the spot, a chill spreading deep within me. Even when we were very young, Giulio and Nicolo would always favor Clara over me. Every time she cried, Giulio would immediately give her everything that belonged to me, whether they were my clothes, my shoes, or my toys. Clara also always got everything I ever wanted. Meanwhile, all I got was just a vague promise of, "I'll get you one next time." As it turns out, the situation is still the same even after we've grown up. Nothing has changed. I take out my phone and book a flight to Palerama instead. Since nobody at home cares about me, there's no need for me to see them ever again.

The moment Victor knelt to propose to me, a stream of floating comments flickered across my vision. [LMAO. The villainess actually thinks the male lead has fallen for her.] [Gotta hand it to the male lead, a truly devoted Don. He's gritting his teeth and marrying the villainess just to protect the heroine.] [I wanna fast-forward to the part where the heroine is safe and the villainess gets dumped by the male lead.] My breath caught hard. Winning Victor 's true love was the mission the system assigned me after I awakened. Ten years since we met. Seven of them I spent chasing him. All this time, I thought he had finally fallen in love with me. I looked down at the seven-carat pink diamond ring in Victor's hand, and my eyes went hot. I closed my eyes and said softly, "Victor, I won't marry you." With that, I turned and walked away. The next second, a sharp system warning blared inside my head. "Host, mission failed. You will be erased in forty-eight hours."

I was the Castell family's designated heir in Rosewick, Delmaris, and my older sister Sabrina had been adopted into the family. So she was overprotective of me. She reminded me constantly, "Avery, you're the family's only heir. It's not safe for you to be out in public." Even my dates with Julian Vescari, the Don of the most powerful family in Rosewick, were things she attended in my place. When the grapes ripened at the estate, Sabrina said the crowds made it unsafe. So she went with Julian to pick grapes instead of me. At family banquets, she said there were too many cameras and it made an assassination too easy. So she linked arms with Julian and gave the speeches in my place. Every time she came back, Sabrina told me gently, "As long as I'm standing in front of you, you can inherit everything safely." I always believed she did it for my sake. Until the day before my engagement to Julian. Sabrina was sitting in the dressing room in the gown I'd had made for myself. As I passed the doorway, I happened to see Julian feed her a peeled grape. Sabrina complained sweetly, "I run around handling everything for the two of you and never get a moment to myself, and one grape is supposed to settle it?" Julian answered easily, "You've worked hard. Ask me for anything you want." Sabrina looked him up and down, and then she smiled. The intimacy between them froze me where I stood and sent a sharp pain through my chest. In that moment I finally understood. This boundary-crossing game they called protection had to end.

I walked away from the luxury of a top mafia family, hiding the fact that I was the daughter of the Newman family Don, just to stay by my boyfriend Joren’s side. I watched him climb from a low-level enforcer to a Don. He once promised that when he finally had the power to give me the world, he would propose. So, on the day of his celebration banquet, completely full of hope, I walked into the hall wearing a white wedding dress. My head was spinning with all the surprises he might have planned. Maybe a stunning pink diamond, or a walkway covered in rose petals. Instead, I saw Joren with his arm wrapped tight around his secretary, Chloe. They were practically joined at the hip, looking every bit the power couple. A guest teased him, "Is the gorgeous lady beside you the mystery girlfriend?" I thought he would shut it down. He just gave a wicked smirk and said absolutely nothing. Amidst the roaring cheers of the crowd, I resolutely slipped off our couple's ring, dropped it into a champagne flute, and strode out without looking back. I remembered Joren telling me that to protect me from the vicious dangers of his world, we had to keep our relationship a secret. But now, he was perfectly fine sharing his glory with another woman in public. A man like that wasn't worth another ounce of my love.

My mom passed away when I was twelve, leaving everything she had to me. My dad cried at her bedside, swearing he'd never remarry and that he'd take care of me no matter what. But six months later, my stepmother moved into the villa my mom had left me, with her daughter. She told me, "I'll love you like you're my own." It didn't take long before my room, my clothes, everything, was taken over by her daughter. I got shipped off to a boarding school and was only allowed home on weekends. That went on for four years. After my father had been away on business for months, her abuse only got worse. She even tried to make me take the fall for her daughter. When I refused, she locked me in the basement and left me there to die. I fought with everything I had, found the old phone my mom had left behind, and called my grandfather. On the other end of the line, his voice was pure fury: "No one messes with a granddaughter of the Moretti family!"

Celeste, Luca’s first love, and I were trapped in the Romano docks fire on the same night. He saved me first. By the time he went back for Celeste, the warehouse had already collapsed. She died in the fire and became the regret he carried for the rest of his life. Luca never said he blamed me. But after that night, my birthdays, our anniversaries, even private family dinners became days for him to mourn Celeste. He often said, “It should have been me.” Years later, the Chronos Project opened to the powerful families of the underworld. For a brutal price, it could send someone back to one moment in the past. Luca signed the waiver without hesitation. Before entering the machine, he said to me, “I saved you first because you were my wife. If I had saved Celeste first, the families would have called her my mistress and destroyed her. This time, I’ll save her properly.” After he vanished, the Romano elders turned all their grief on me. “If Luca had chosen Celeste first, he would have had the life he wanted.” “She died because of you.” “You should have been the one the fire took.” I did not explain. I signed the Chronos waiver too. This time, I would give them what they wanted.

A week before the wedding, my fiancé Matteo had two jewelry sets delivered and let my sister choose first. One was a dazzling sapphire set he had bought at an auction in Europe, the perfect match for my diamond-covered gown. The other was a black pearl necklace the jeweler had thrown in for free. The tag on the clasp still said "Complimentary." For the first time in my life, I spoke up before my sister, Viola, could. "This time, could I choose first?" Matteo ruffled my hair. "Viola represents the Bellani family in public. She needs the sapphires to look the part. You don't care about these things anyway." I didn't answer. Something inside me slowly emptied out. I had known him for more than twenty years, and everyone knew I was the one who never made things difficult for my sister. Whenever we cut our birthday cake as children, Viola took the only sugar flower on top. Matteo handed me the piece that had fallen apart. "It all tastes the same. You can make do." Later, whenever we dressed for family dinners, my sister got first pick of the gowns and chose the most striking one, while he saved the seat beside him for her. I brought the speeches I had written for them and sat in the back row. "Elena, you're the steady one. Keep an eye on things from back there." Later still, even love followed the same pattern. He proposed to Viola. She said she didn't want to become the Donna of the Moretti family so soon. Only then did he turn to me and ask if I would. I kept telling myself that the wedding, at least, was mine. But I couldn't even choose a piece of jewelry for myself without first asking whether my sister needed it. I pushed both boxes across the table. "Give them both to her. I'm not choosing." This time, I wasn't going to take what was left.

In the third year of my relationship with Dante Santoro, heir to the Santoro family fortune, I got pregnant. The night before the Don's birthday banquet, he finally brought me home as his girlfriend. Giulia Costa, the housekeeper's daughter, smiled sweetly and asked about my food allergies. I mentioned I was allergic to truffles. In the end, every dish at dinner was loaded with truffles. I swallowed my irritation and grabbed a slice of cake that looked safe. Two bites in, I heard her laugh. "I got creative and mixed truffle powder into the frosting. How is it?" Before I could answer, my throat closed up and I could not breathe. Giulia gasped and covered her mouth. "Ms. Leone, your skin is turning purple! Do you have some kind of contagious disease?" Everyone watched as I was carried out like trash. The moment my allergic reaction cleared up, Giulia insisted on helping me pack. I told her multiple times not to touch my ring. In the few minutes I spent in the bathroom, she "accidentally" knocked it down the drain. That was the wedding ring Dante gave me. I lost my temper and confronted her, but Dante just laughed it off. "She's jealous of your pretty ring. Don't be so petty." That night, Giulia brought sleep-aid drinks to my room as an apology. Dante convinced me to accept her peace offering. I drank a few cups and felt drowsy almost immediately. When Giulia walked me back to my room, I told her to lock the door behind her. Ten minutes later, a group of men shoved their way inside and beat my stomach until I miscarried. The baby was gone. Giulia's eyes filled with tears as she claimed she never saw anyone enter. She said I never wanted the Santoro family to have an heir and had orchestrated my own abortion. Dante went white with rage and ordered his men to dump me in the ocean. When I opened my eyes again, it was the night before the banquet.

Two days before our wedding, my fiancé called it off for his childhood sweetheart, postponing everything by ten days. He sighed, "Daisy told me that day happens to be her birthday party. It's her first birthday since she lost her husband, so I can't miss it, or she'd be devastated. Elena, we're going to get married. What difference does a week earlier or later make?" This was the third time he had canceled our wedding for Daisy. The first time, Daisy claimed she was suffering from severe depression, and he dropped everything to rush to her side. He stayed with her for a whole week. The second time, Daisy said she wanted to see the northern lights. He was terrified she might travel alone in that fragile state, so he went with her. They were gone for ten days. And now this was the third. But unlike all the other times, I didn't argue with him. I didn't raise my voice or throw a single accusatory word his way. He thought I was a helpless orphan who'd never leave him. He had no idea that I was the princess of Rossi family, a powerful mafia family. To hide my identity and marry a man outside our world, I had made a three‑month wager with my father—a gamble that I could build a normal life and marry on my own terms. But I had lost. My fiancé still thought this was just another postponement. He didn't know that there would be no next time.

My Don husband, just to indulge his little mistress's fantasy of playing Don's wife, pretended to have lost his memory at sea and tried to push me out of the family. By chance, I overheard his mistress teasing him: "Can I borrow Don's wife for a few days? And… Can I borrow the Don too?" My husband, all smiles and indulgence, replied, "Of course. Both are yours for a few days." I froze for a moment, then turned away, pretending it did not bother me. The next day, at the family meeting, he announced that his mistress was then his wife, ordered me out of the family business, and demanded I hand over every ounce of authority I held. The elders all turned to me, silently hoping I would defy his ridiculous decree. I said nothing. I handed over the keys and authority without a word. However, he did not know that our next arms deal was just nine days away, and the other party was Amestia's most powerful mafia, the Romano family. They dealt with no one but me.

Three days before my wedding to Don Marco, I scheduled a memory erasure procedure. "Ms. Leah, are you certain you want to erase the memories from this period of your life and forget the people you knew?" I ran my fingers over the wedding invitation Marco had carefully prepared and said softly, "Yes." Three years ago, on the night Marco and I got engaged, Violetta was involved in a car accident. When she woke up, she identified me as the person responsible. That was when I learned that even an innocent person could become the villain in everyone else's eyes. Marco, the man I loved most, believed her and sent me to prison for three years. "Leah, you nearly destroyed her life. You should be grateful that she's still willing to forgive you." "But I can't keep cleaning up your messes forever. You need to learn to face the consequences of your actions." That was Marco's final decision. The truth was, if he had been willing to investigate a little further, he would have discovered what really happened. During those three years, Marco never responded to my pleas or my cries for help. All he left me was a promise that he would marry me after I was released. An empty vow. But I no longer needed his belated tenderness. Marco, I choose to forget you.

After my 49th fight with my boyfriend, Stefano Conti, I take every luxury item he's given me over the years to a luxury consignment store out of spite. The employee examines them one by one, her expression growing darker with each piece. "Look at the stitching. It's crooked. This is obviously fake. And this isn't a diamond. It's not even moissanite. It's just cubic zirconia. Ma'am, are you messing with us?" I stare at the pile in disbelief, unable to figure out what went wrong. Then, I pack everything into a box and take it straight to Stefano. In the main hall, Stefano is feeding Martina Rizzo slices of bluefin tuna. "I paid two million dollars for this tuna at auction. It's the most tender meat," he tells her. "Consider it a little celebration for getting your latest arms shipment delivered safely." Martina beams. "But Stefano, this is way too expensive. I didn't even make that much from this shipment." "You're worth it." Just then, Stefano's Consigliere, Paolo Moretti, raises his glass. "Boss, you and Elena have been together for seven years. Are you really not going to propose to her?" Stefano takes a small sip of his wine. "Propose? A fool who can't even tell a knockoff from the real thing is not fit to be my Donna. Only an idiot like her would believe a lie like that." He's right. I really can't tell a counterfeit from the real thing. I'm the Principessa of the Santoro family, after all. No one has ever dared give me a fake, so I've never had any reason to learn how to spot one. At last, I understand. It isn't that Stefano looks down on me. He just doesn't love me.

In my first life, I pulled Dante Romano from the Hudson. My father rewarded me with a slap. Carlo said no respectable man would marry a Bellini daughter found soaked beside a stranger after midnight. When the Romano family came looking for Dante’s rescuer, he locked me away and presented my half sister, Bianca, in my place. Bianca took Dante’s gratitude. Carlo sold me into a brutal marriage. When I threatened to expose them, Bianca poisoned me. I woke beside the Hudson on the same winter night. This time, I saved Dante and took the obsidian crest from his neck. Carlo still silenced me. Bianca still drugged me and stole the crest. By the next afternoon, she had my proof, my father’s oath, and every Bellini guard behind her. She thought history was repeating itself. She was wrong. The crest wasn’t the only thing I had brought back from the Hudson. And when Dante discovered the rest, Bianca and Carlo would lose everything.

When the Russo family—the most notorious mafia empire in America—brought me, their long-lost true blood, back to the estate, I set three rules: One: Don't compare me to Chloe, the perfect adopted daughter. Two: Don't give her my things as charity, and don't dump her hand-me-downs on me. Three: Stay out of my private life. The man she was supposed to marry is hers. Our father—the Don—agreed. Chloe and I barely kept a fake peace. But when the marriage alliance came up, the rules went out the window. Her fiancé Marcello chose me—a street-wild girl covered in motor oil. My father was furious. My mother, bitter. My oldest brother, the Underboss, looked at me with pure disgust. Chloe was convinced I seduced her fiancé in bed. But God as my witness, I never touched him. I stormed into his private cigar club, demanding he clear things up. Marcello blew out a puff of smoke and sneered. "The Vitiello family's marriage pact was always with the true Russo blood. We have no intention of taking a fake." As he said it, his sharp dark eyes slid toward a trembling Chloe. A cruel, almost sick thrill flashed in them. It took me a long time to get it. He had too much wildness in his bones to marry a smiling puppet. And I—a foul-mouthed, reckless street girl—became his perfect pawn to rebel against his entire family. I was forced to become Marcello's wife. Three years later, he got bored. He threw a divorce agreement in my face. Filled with my unbearable "sins": "Too stubborn. Zero feminine, in bed or out." "Always showing your face at that biker shop. A disgrace. Unfit for the title of Donna." I stared at him. I remembered why he dumped Chloe—he hated her submissive elegance. Now, what he hated most was that I wasn't submissive, and I wasn't elegant. I flicked the ash from my cigarette and said, dead calm: "Fine. I'll sign."

The day after my sister broke up with her mafia boyfriend, she went off on vacation to clear her head. She swore she'd find a man even better than her ex, and she sent me a whole stack of profiles of good-looking guys. She wanted me to help her pick. I was about to tap the screen when Dante snatched the phone away, his brow furrowing as he let out a soft laugh. "You are my Donna! Don't pick up her bad habits." Before I could get a good look, Dante deleted every last photo. I explained, "She's not really like that. She was with that boyfriend for eight years, and he hurt her too deeply." "She kept him like a treasure. Even I never got to meet him." Dante raised an eyebrow and, a little stiffly, told me, "Tomorrow I'm going to Sicily to handle Family business. You be good and stay home." I nodded and agreed, waiting for him to return. My sister happened to get back from her own trip right around the time he did. The moment she walked in, she couldn't wait to tell me how her ex had come back to propose to her. I smiled and congratulated her. But when she took out the engagement ring, my heart skipped a beat. That morning, I'd just happened to find a matching men's wedding ring inside Dante's suit.

Two years into my marriage with Don Dante, my ex came back. Julian, the man who shattered my heart five years ago. He announced he was getting engaged. And he wanted me as his mistress. "I know I hurt you," he said. "My family looks down on mob ties. It was never going to work. But now? I'm marrying Tiffany. I'm taking over the family empire. I can finally afford to keep you." I just sneered at him. "Did it ever occur to you that I might be married?" He scoffed. "What decent family would have you? The daughter of a mob underboss? Don't be ridiculous." His arrogance made me sick. When I refused, he slapped a black card on the table. Told me to buy whatever I wanted. He said he'd pick me up next week. That we could spend every weekend tangled up in his bed. I spat on the floor at his feet. "Get him out," I told my guard. "And take his trash with him." He didn't get it. Not then. But he would. The moment he found out who I married. I didn't just marry anyone. I married the king of the Chicago underworld. A man he could never touch. And when he finally figured it out, he lost his goddamn mind.

I had just gotten back from the hospital when Mom pulled me into the walk-in closet and held a pale pink couture gown against me. "Try it on. It's from the designer's new collection. We have a major event this weekend, and as the Wellman heiress, you need to look your best." Heat crept into my cheeks. The pregnancy test results were still tucked inside my bag. How could Mom already know? I smiled and nodded. "But Mom, wouldn't white be better?" I ducked my head, a shy smile playing on my lips. The news of my pregnancy was right on the tip of my tongue. "White does look prettier. Soren has such good taste, picking that white wedding gown for Daisy. You're the maid of honor, so pale pink is perfect." The smile froze on my face. Just then, Daisy called up from the living room. "Vivian, are you home? I brought my fiancé!" I picked up my phone and stared at the good-morning message Soren had sent me yesterday. "My dearest Vivian, you are the only bride I will ever have." I turned around and saw Soren and Daisy standing in my doorway, wrapped in each other's arms. Tears spilled down my cheeks. Soren, you lied to me.