Mga Maiikling Kuwento at Nobelang Plot Twists Mafia Bias

Matteo Cassimo and I are childhood sweethearts. But he gets assassinated on the day before our wedding. I cry my heart out in front of his grave to the point I faint from exhaustion. When I wake up again, I see a few live comments crossing my vision. "Poor Annie… She's still kept in the dark about the truth." "Seriously, Annie believes everything Matteo tells her. Serves her right for getting duped by Matteo's fake death." "Can someone please tell Annie that Matteo fakes his death to get rid of her, because his mistress finds out he's about to get married and decides to secretly leave him? I bet those two are being lovey-dovey with each other right now!" "Forget about it. Annie has nothing but blind trust in Matteo, after all. Maybe when he finally comes back from the 'dead,' she'll marry him happily again." One month later, the news headlines all over the papers are filled with the explosive news of the impending marriage between me and the heir of the Valente family, William Valente. That's when Matteo's subordinate confronts me. "Our Don has just passed away recently, and yet you're already planning to marry someone else?" I merely chuckle icily in return. "So what if I am? I can't just be a widow at such a young age now, can I?"

I've been a stickler for getting things right since I was a child. Whenever anyone is vague, I keep asking questions until I get to the bottom of it. At the children's home, the director used to say that the crying child gets the candy. I asked, "Why doesn't the quiet child get any? Does a child have to cry to get candy?" The director had nothing to say to that. After I became a lawyer, my supervisor assigned me a case she claimed was guaranteed to win, despite there being no evidence. I asked, "With no evidence at all, how can we possibly win?" "That isn't for you to worry about. Just show up in court on time." I put the file back on her desk. "If I can't get the full picture, I'm not taking this case." After that, none of my colleagues dared dump another hopeless case on me. That changed when my birth parents brought me home to the Rossi Family and threw a belated banquet to formally acknowledge me as their daughter. Bruno, the butler, brought out a case. Inside was a Browning pistol with the Rossi crest set into the grip. "This is the keepsake the Rossi Family commissions for each of its children. Your three brothers each have one. So does Letitia." My father took aim at a vase worth a million across the room and fired a test shot before sliding the pistol toward me. "Yours. " I picked it up. Neither the magazine capacity nor the curve of the grip had been designed for my hand. I couldn't hold it securely. I looked at him. "Father, was this made specifically for me?" "Of course." I lifted it again with my palm up so he could see the gap between my fingers and the grip. "Then why was it designed for a hand smaller than mine? "If I had to use this pistol in the field, the sharp edge at the base would snag when I changed magazines and cost me my best chance to fire." I turned the pistol over so they could see the tiny letters engraved inside the chamber: L.L. "More importantly, those are Letitia's initials." I looked at Letitia. "Or did you swap mine out?"

Ilona Greco offered three years of priority shipping rights at the port in exchange for one thing. "Sterling, I want you to divorce Ophelia. Just for a month." The whole room went silent. I calmly picked up my coffee and didn't even look up. All of Sicily knew Ilona wanted my husband. But they also knew Sterling Vitale loved me almost to the point of obsession. I waited for him to explode and have her thrown out. But a few seconds later, the silence was broken by the scratch of his pen. "Deal." Ilona's red lips curled into a smile. "Excellent!" Then she raised her glass in a mocking toast to me. On the way back to the estate, I cried and begged Sterling to back out of the deal. He only frowned and wiped away my tears. "Ophelia, it's just a deal." Sterling took my hand and sighed. "Three years of priority shipping rights at the port. That's worth it." I let out a bitter laugh and didn't say anything else. That night, he had the lawyer bring the divorce papers to the study. I signed my name on the last page. Sterling collected the papers, looking pleased. Little did he know that by the time his month-long arrangement with Ilona was over, I'd be gone from this estate for good. ...

On my birthday, one of my husband’s subordinates leaned close to him and whispered in Russian, “Sasha has a surprise prepared for you tonight.” My husband smiled at me as he finished cutting my cake. Then, in the same language, he replied, “She has quite a few tricks in bed. I’ll see her later. “Just don’t let Madam find out, or I’m afraid I’ll get thrown out.” Everyone around laughed and assured keep it quiet. None of them knew that I’d been fluent in multiple languages since I was a child. What they also didn’t know was that I’d found the hidden phone he kept in the false drawer, where all the filthy videos of him and Sasha were saved. I didn’t confront him. Instead, I contacted a few remaining connections in the Vegas and had them prepare a new identity for me. In three days, Claire Vega would no longer exist, and he would never have me again.

My twin sister and I were supposed to celebrate our succession on the same night. Beth Moretti would inherit the family's weapons business in Naples. Her portrait towered over the banquet hall on a massive screen as the elders gathered around her, showering her with praise. Our parents, Vincent Moretti and Elena Moretti, couldn't have looked prouder. "Beth has always been exceptional. She was at the top of her class, won countless awards, and was already managing the family stables at eighteen." I stood alone in the corner, completely ignored. By the time anyone remembered me, the gala was almost over. One of the elders happened to spot me. "What about Monica? What will she be taking over?" My parents froze. For a moment, neither of them had an answer. Beth gave a small laugh. "Nothing important, I think?" Everyone laughed with her. I kept quiet. I had apparently been put in charge of the family armory, though no one had even bothered to tell me themselves. My father finally looked my way. "At least she stays out of trouble. That's good enough." Of course I stayed out of trouble. They had sent me to boarding school when I was four and left me to grow up on my own. I learned early how to take care of myself because no one else would. During school breaks, my parents would take Beth on vacation while I stayed behind. To them, I had always been the daughter they could forget. So yes, I was easy. I had learned a long time ago not to expect anything from them. After the gala, I went looking for my family. They were nowhere to be found. Then I learned they had already gone home with Beth. I took a deep breath, pulled up the Turner family's invitation from two months ago, and typed, "I accept." Then I booked the earliest flight out. This family had forgotten me for years. Now they could forget me for good.

Everyone knew Lorenzo Moretti, the undisputed ruler of the estate, was hopelessly in love with me. To prove it, he bought a private paradise and christened it Lucy Island. The rule was simple: once a year, members of the Moretti Empire would spin a grand wheel for a chance to spend a night on the island. Lorenzo swore we would only wed there, throwing a feast for the ages. Yet for seven excruciating years, every time I spun the wheel, it delivered the same mocking verdict: Better Luck Next Year. I became the only woman in the empire forbidden from stepping foot on the island built in my name. Our wedding remained frozen in time. “Rules are rules, Lucy,” Lorenzo would insist. “A Moretti never breaks his word.” Exhausted by the endless waiting, I sneaked into the hall the night before the event, magnet in hand, determined to rig the wheel in my favor. Then I heard his voice, sharp and calculating. “Set the same mechanism. Lucy’s wheel cannot stop on my name.” I froze. “You’ve made her spin a rigged wheel for seven years,” his assistant, Mark, ventured carefully. “Aren't you afraid she’ll leave?” Lorenzo’s cold smirk echoed through the dark room. “Who would dare touch what belongs to me?” “Do you feel nothing for her?” Mark pressed. “Rosaline needs only one more year to recover,” Lorenzo replied smoothly. “Next year, I’ll marry Lucy as promised.” Rosaline. His childhood friend. The woman who mysteriously landed on Lorenzo’s name every single year, spending the night on my island, in my bed, while Lorenzo claimed it was just bad luck. When I argued with him, he would casually say, “One night of love can't erase the passion I have for you, Lucy. You are my fiancée. That will never change.” Standing in the shadows with a magnet in my palm, I finally saw the truth. I wasn’t his grand love—I was his grand illusion.

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.

The day before the holiday, I gave the household staff the week off. Agnes was still in the kitchen before she left, packing desserts into a bag while talking to herself with a smile. "Miss Vanessa finally got what she wanted this time. Mr. Moretti even booked that seaside villa in Amalfi." I was texting Vanessa, asking her to come over later to try on the bridesmaid dress. Without thinking much of it, I asked, "Got what?" "The wedding," Agnes said naturally. "Isn't Mr. Moretti taking Miss Vanessa to Italy?" My fingers froze above the screen. Two seconds passed before I looked up at her. "Whose wedding?" The smile on Agnes's face slowly froze. She looked at me as if she had only just realized something was wrong. "You... didn't know?" For a moment, I almost laughed at how absurd it sounded. "Agnes, Luca and I signed the family marriage registry three years ago. Next week is only supposed to be the ceremony." The kitchen fell silent. Agnes opened her mouth, embarrassment spreading across her face. "I'm sorry, ma'am. I thought you knew." She hesitated, then lowered her voice. "A while ago, when I was cleaning the study, I heard Mr. Moretti mention it to his lawyer. He said the marriage registry in your hands was never officially submitted to the family council." My heart sank. Three years ago, Luca had handed that document to me himself. He said the Moretti family was unstable, that we could not announce the marriage yet. Once he entered the inner circle of the Five Families, he would hold a proper wedding. So for all these years, I never pushed him. I even turned against the Castellano family for him. Thinking back now, maybe he had never planned to truly let me through the doors of the Moretti family in the first place.

Five years into my marriage to Dante Moretti, the Don of the Chicago Outfit, the entire underworld knew he loved me more than life itself. He’d had a violin—for me—tattooed right next to his family crest, a symbol of loyalty that could never be erased. Until I got the photo from his mistress. A cocktail waitress, sprawled naked in his arms, her skin marred by the dark bruises of rough sex. She had scrawled her name right next to the violin he’d gotten for me. And my husband had let her. "Dante says only being inside me makes him feel like a man anymore. You can’t even get him hard anymore, can you, sweet Alessia? Maybe it’s time to step aside." I didn't reply. I just made a single call. “I need a new identity. And a plane ticket out.”

After my younger sister went abroad, I married the mafia Don in her place. Five years after we married, we became each other’s greatest enemies. He hated me for driving my sister away and scheming my way into becoming his wife. I hated him for always treating me as a stand-in, never once acknowledging me in front of the world. My lack of status brought humiliation to my vain parents, and from that moment on, their love for me turned into hatred. In the end, he and my parents left me behind on a snowy mountain while celebrating Christmas with my sister. In the bitter cold, I died together with the child I never got to meet. Meanwhile, my sister basked in everyone’s love and had the happiest Christmas of her life. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day my sister returned from abroad. This time, I would not beg Gideon or my parents to love me ever again.

I was at the vineyard with my mother-in-law Teresa Moretti to go over the books when a stack of bills hit me square in the face. "How much can a tax audit even make you?" The blonde woman pointed at the scattered cash, her smile dripping with contempt. "Take the money and get lost. Don't ruin my tasting party." I let out a cold laugh. "What's your name? And who gave you the authority to run this vineyard?" "Monica Moretti." Monica picked at her nails, smirking. "The vineyard was a gift from my husband Luca. So naturally, he's the one who authorized it." I turned to look at Teresa. This vineyard—Luca had bought it behind the family's back just a week ago. Luca is Teresa's only son. And my husband of seven years.

I served three years in federal prison for the Don's precious Sophia, and then he suddenly fell for me. The day he came to pick me up, he had a sapphire necklace ready, the kind I'd begged him for once and never got. I dropped it onto the back seat without a second glance. His expression darkened. "If you have something to say, just say it. Don't take it out on things." I smiled. "Three years inside taught me never to keep anything valuable on me. It would only bring trouble." He swallowed hard and pulled me close. "That's over now. You have me. Whatever you want, I'll get it for you." I pushed him back. "Then give me my wedding ring." I'd told him once: if the day ever came that I was leaving, I'd take that ring with me. Three years had been more than enough to kill whatever love I had left.

My life was a living hell after my mother died. My father was the Don of the Rossi family, but you wouldn't know it from the way I lived. My stepsister and stepmother treated me like a maid. When the family faced a crisis, they didn't hesitate to sell me off to Caspian, the heir to the Valerius family, for their own gain. The word on the street was that Caspian was a monster—a butcher with a face torn apart by scars. I refused, but my father threatened me with my mother's keepsakes, forcing me to sign a three-year marriage contract. On our wedding day, Caspian didn't even look at me. He slid the ring on my finger, his touch like ice. "Remember," he said, "you're my wife in name only. Don't expect anything more." I wasn't hurt. That was what I wanted, too. I thought we'd spend three years as strangers, and then I'd be free. But I never expected the day he'd look at me with those possessive eyes, kiss me hard, and declare, "You're mine. My wife. Forever." And damn it, my heart actually skipped a beat.

At the Moretti family banquet, Don Cesare Moretti won a two-person package to a private island resort. The host asked with a teasing grin, "Don Moretti, who are you taking with you?" Every pair of eyes in the room turned to me. The crowd began chanting my name, their voices rising with gleeful anticipation. "Adriana! Adriana!" My heart hammered against my ribs. I smiled at Cesare, hope blooming warm in my chest. But Cesare didn't even glance my way. His gaze had drifted past me, settling on his secretary sitting near the front. His voice was casual, almost indulgent. "Give it to her. The girl's been working late lately. She deserves a break." His secretary's face went scarlet. Those soldiers paused for just a beat—then someone shouted, "The Don is so thoughtful," and the laughter swelled again, smoothing over the moment. My best friend Bianca leaned in, whispering through clenched teeth, "We planned to get married together on the island this year. How could he forget something like that?" I smiled and forced back the tears. Then I reached over and straightened her collar. "Don't worry. The plan stays. The wedding happens." Then I called my father and said yes to the family arrangement. I would marry the Don of the Romanov family—Cesare's biggest rival. If Cesare didn't want to marry me, that was fine. I'd just find myself another groom.

When Michele Barone, the Underboss of the Moretti family, proposes to me, I receive a video call from another version of myself, who's five years in the future. In the video call, my older self is already shaved bald. She's also trapped in the Moretti family's basement. "Don't marry him! You have to get rid of the unborn baby in your belly and get out of here right now!" I throw the ring to the table on the spot before going through an abortion right away. When Michele finds out the truth, he breaks down and cries his heart out. At the same time, he keeps demanding answers from me. All of my family and friends keep blaming and accusing me. They even claim that I've gone nuts. Meanwhile, Michele's childhood friend, Gianna Grasso, hides outside the room with a hand clamped over her mouth as she giggles secretly to herself. "AI nowadays sure is powerful! I can't believe she actually believes that the woman in the video call is actually her future self five years from now!" My lips curl into a small smile. Honestly speaking, I can tell right away that it's just a fake AI video, based on how shabbily it's made. It's quite simple as to why I've done those things, though—I've received an actual video call from my future self for real.

When I arrived at the engagement party, I bent down to pick up my dropped purse, only to find my fiancé and my best friend had already walked into the banquet hall side-by-side. By the time I gathered up my dress and hurried after them, Susie had naturally linked her arm through Charles'. They were chatting and laughing together, casually discussing how to take over an international drug trade route that day. It was as if I had never existed. Growing up, Susie and Charles were the two most brilliant prodigies in Sandelford's mafia families. As adults, they both became the most capable members of their respective families. Charles even became the Don of the Anderson family several years ago. Meanwhile, I was constantly stuck playing catch-up behind them. Even after all these years, I had never been given access to our family's core business operations. Charles used to comfort me by saying, "Innocence is a strength, too. You don't need to worry about the dirty work. Susie and I have it covered." He gave my forehead a gentle kiss, then turned around and flew off to Southeast Usia with Susie to negotiate business deals, keeping his phone switched off for days on end. Watching the two of them raise their glasses to celebrate another victory, a sudden wave of exhaustion hit me. I was tired of playing this game. Since I could never catch up to them, I wasn't going to chase after them anymore.

Three days ago, Julian Sinclair promised me to my face that he would propose to me tonight, at the family dinner. So when the ballroom doors swung open, every eye in the room turned to me, all of them already knowing why. Someone raised a glass, smiling like they already knew the secret. "Congratulations in advance, Donna." I stood there in the crowd, my fingertips trembling a little, waiting for Julian to come to me. But once he was inside, he walked right past me, straight up to Chloe Ross. And then, in front of everyone, he pinned the underboss's silver badge to her chest. "You did good work on the East Harbor cleanup." The room went still for a beat, and then the applause broke out. Chloe looked up at him, her eyes red, as if she'd finally been handed the place that was meant to be hers. I stood frozen, feeling my smile crack apart on my face, piece by piece. Only then did Julian seem to notice something, and he turned back to me. "Don't overthink it." "Tonight belongs to Chloe. Spoiling her moment with a proposal wouldn't be right." "At the next family dinner, I'll hand you the black ring in front of everyone." I looked at him and let out a soft laugh. Julian didn't know. There wasn't going to be a next time. My engagement banquet with the head of the Vaughn family was set for next week.

The night before my fiancé, Soren, and I were supposed to leave for Northern Europe to start our new life, the sounds of a lively discussion drifted from his private club. "Christ, Boss, are you insane? Why the sudden marriage alliance with the Rosetti family to make a play for Italy? Didn't you say you were getting out of the life with Abby and heading north?" Soren leaned back into a leather sofa, his voice nonchalant and muffled by a cloud of smoke. "Plans change. Besides, remember, I'm the one who made her who she is." "Once she sees the new empire I'm building, that little canary will come flying right back to my cage. The woman can't live without me." I stood in the shadows of the club, a wine glass in my hand, a dull ache blooming in my chest. The anniversary gift I had so carefully chosen for Soren was still in my purse, waiting for me to give it to him. I slipped out of the smoke-filled club, tossed the gift into the nearest trash can, and booked a one-way ticket to Northern Europe. But what he didn't know was that just as he could betray our future for Monica, I could abandon him for mine. All those years we spent dancing with death were never just for his sake.

On the first day of our honeymoon, Dante Moretti, the Mafia Don I had just married, and his childhood sweetheart left me at a gas station. They had driven for twenty minutes before realizing I wasn’t in the car. When he called, panic filled his voice. “Ariana, why didn’t you get back in? I thought you were in the back seat.” Bianca’s voice came clearly through the phone. “She isn’t a child, Dante. You don’t have to turn around for her.” I laughed bitterly. I had lost count of how many times he had left me behind for his childhood sweetheart. When I remained silent, irritation crept into his voice. “Don’t start, Ariana. I’ve sent one of the guards to pick you up. Just wait for the guard.” In the past, I would have forgiven him and waited. But this time, I didn’t want to. I canceled the rest of our honeymoon and removed the wedding ring I had worn for less than three days. Then I called my father for the first time in five years. “Father, I want to come home.” His voice trembled. “Ariana, the Bellini family has been waiting for you.”

After my little sister Sophia and I came of age, Father gave us two choices. Go to the front lines with his most trusted lieutenant and fight in the shootouts. Or go to the coast and marry into the local arms-dealing dynasty. In my last life, Sophia cried and kicked and screamed to go to the seaside. I put down the paintbrush I loved and took the gun the lieutenant handed me. In the end, I carved out a name for myself on the front lines, took back every inch of territory the family had lost, and became the successor the council of elders unanimously acknowledged. Sophia, meanwhile, was ignored by her husband, frozen out and neglected by his entire family, and died of depression. After being reborn, Sophia couldn't wait to plant herself beside Father's lieutenant, Lorenzo. "Catherine, the front lines are too dangerous. You go to the coast and live easily. I'll leave the good life for you." The lieutenant paused, then smiled with relief. I said nothing. I just told the housekeeper to pack my bags. I was ready to leave immediately. Sophia didn't know. In my last life, the reason all that lost territory was recovered, the reason that unruly lieutenant came to respect me completely, was because when we were surrounded, I refused to retreat. I cut a bloody path out with my bare hands. Reborn, with no endless artillery in my ears, I just wanted to chase my dream of art.