After Death Mafia Short Stories & Bias Regret Novels

I was supposed to be the pampered youngest daughter of the Falcone crime family. My fiancé was Lorenzo, the heir to the Caruso dynasty. I had three brothers who were the most feared men on the streets. But everything changed the moment my long-lost older sister returned. "Isabella was kidnapped by our enemies when she was three. She went through hell until the family found her at eighteen. Why can’t you just cut her some slack?" "Elena, if Isabella hadn't gone missing, the Don would never have had you just to fill the void. You owe her your life. What right do you have to compete with her?" Time and again, I stepped back into the shadows for my sister. But on the night before my wedding, Isabella called Lorenzo. "Lorenzo... I’m at the Old Port docks. There’s a strange car here and three men just got out... I’m so scared..." Lorenzo didn't even wait to hear the rest. He slammed on the brakes and kicked me out of the car in the middle of a torrential downpour. I clung to the door of that black Maybach, begging him. "Lorenzo, it’s the night before our wedding. This is rival turf." "Just this once, for the sake of the family’s reputation, can’t you choose me?" Lorenzo grabbed my wrists and shoved me away. "If anything happens to Isabella, I swear I’ll send you to hell myself!" But those "three men" Isabella mentioned? They were actually our three brothers, who were only there to watch the ocean and set off fireworks with her. That night, my three brothers and my fiancé were at the seaside, showering her with affection. And I died in an abandoned slaughterhouse on the edge of the city. This time, I finally gave way to my sister completely. But tell me—when you saw my corpse, why were you all crying?

After my family goes bankrupt, my younger brother, Simone Novello, is diagnosed with ALS. Just as I think I can't do anything anymore, Don Luigi Sartori decides to propose to me. Five years into the marriage, not only have I obtained all of Luigi's love, but he's also groomed my body to the maximum in bed. Thinking that this is a sign of love from Luigi, I cooperate with him even more passionately in bed. But when I'm delivering wine in a clubhouse one day, I witness Simone, who's supposed to be wheelchair-ridden, chatting with Luigi with a smile while clad in a high-end suit. "Simone, you've been pretending to be afflicted with ASL for five years just to punish Caterina for scolding Maria back then. Now that Maria is in a good mood and plans to return to the country, shouldn't you stop punishing Caterina then?" Simone sneers at Luigi. "I'll have my doctor inform her that I will recover after some time." "ASL is a deadly and incurable disease, you know. How can you possibly recover from it? Will Caterina even believe that excuse?" Simone flashes Luigi a confident smile. "Caterina is stupid, remember? Since when doesn't she believe anything we spout? Anyway, we'll just make it up to her in the future." I lower my head, feeling my tears rolling down my cheeks quietly. The thing is, Simone, there's no more future for me. Your ASL is a lie, but the deadly disease plaguing me is real.

While my corpse was rotting in the morgue, my fiancé, Ron Corleone, was comforting my murderer. Lisa Corleone sobbed as she said, “After we were kidnapped and brought here, Wendy disappeared. We don’t know if she managed to escape. It was all my fault. If I hadn’t insisted on going out with Wendy…” Ron’s face was ice cold. “The future mistress of the Corleone family actually abandoned my sister and fled on her own. If she dares to come back, I’ll break her arms and legs and turn her into a maggot that only deserves to live in the dark!” In fact, I did die in some random corner with my limbs broken. The truth about my death made Ron, who had vowed to make me regret my existence, crazy.

Whenever my brother, Matteo Moretti, screwed up, I was the one who got hurt. Because he was the future Don of the Moretti family. My father, Vittorio Moretti, couldn't bring himself to punish the heir he'd so carefully groomed. So he used my pain to shape him. The first time my brother dipped into the family's money without permission, my father froze my accounts and dumped me alone on the roughest stretch of the Palermo docks. I couldn't pay the protection money, and I was nearly dragged into a warehouse and sexually assaulted. In the end, I only got out of there safely by handing over every piece of jewelry I was wearing. The first time my brother let a traitor go, my father had me locked in a basement with that same traitor. By the time my brother got there, the traitor had broken two of my ribs. But all my father could see was my brother. "Take a good look. Going soft will get your family killed." The year I turned 22, my brother was finally about to take over the family. My father said this would be his last lesson. He staged a fake kidnapping with me as the hostage to teach my brother how to negotiate and make hard choices. But the third time I called begging for help, he was still sitting at the Moretti estate with a drink in his hand. "What's the rush? She'll be fine." Even when gunshots came over the line, my father still had no idea. The people who took me weren't his men. Dad. This time, my brother's last lesson cost me my life. Are you happy now?

My sister was autistic. The doctors called it "severe sensory overload." The rule was simple: No sudden noises. Ever. So my whole life was set to mute. I never wore heels. I never raised my voice. I wasn't even allowed to laugh. It was all to keep her from having a meltdown. My father, Victor, the Don of the Castellano family, would grip my shoulder. His face was a mask of apology. "Sera, you're my good girl. Protecting your sister is our duty. You're healthy and strong. You can sacrifice a little for her, can't you?" That day, I was on the second-floor terrace and accidentally knocked over a pot of white roses. The sound of it shattering sent my sister, who was sunbathing in the garden below, into a meltdown. For the first time, Victor glared at me like I was the enemy. He roared, "Can't you just be quiet? Do you want to drive her insane?" My sister backed away in terror, right into a glass table, and let out a piercing scream. Victor charged past me, a blur of rage and panic. He slammed into me on the stairs as I was running down to help. I lost my footing and crashed chest-first into the sharp corner of a wrought-iron banister post. Pain exploded in my chest. I opened my mouth to scream, but only silence came out. My family swarmed around my shrieking sister. No one even glanced at me. My lungs filled with blood. I was drowning on the floor. They all thought my sister, the one with autism, needed the family's comfort. They thought I just took a fall. That I could wait. They were wrong.

I've died on my wedding day. When I'm in the middle of getting cruelly tortured by the thugs, my parents, older brother, and my fiance are all comforting my younger adopted sister, Arianna Capuano, who's bawling her eyes out. Before I die, I've called them for help. But Diego Atzori, my fiance who's the next Don of the Atzori family, sounds extremely angry at me when he picks up the call. "Carlotta Capuano, Arianna's life is more important than our marriage! Stop putting on an act just to attract attention!" The call goes dead. My life is also entering its countdown. I can only lie in my own puddle of blood, my body broken and mutilated, until I stop breathing entirely. No one can find me at home. They think I'm just throwing a tantrum because the wedding has gotten canceled. Perhaps I've chosen to run away from the altar just so I can attract their attention. What they don't know is the fact that I've never left home. In fact, I've died in the basement of my own house. I died right beneath their feet.

The day I died, my cousin Theo Valenti was being named heir to the Valenti family. And I was wearing his suit, riding in his car, and luring the killers away from him. When I was seven, Dad chopped off my long hair and trained me to walk and talk just like my cousin. I even had to shoot like him. Theo was the only heir to the main branch. My parents had handed me over to take his place whenever danger came knocking. When someone tried to kidnap him, I got in the car instead. When someone was waiting to ambush him outside a party, I walked out the front door in his place. Over 13 years, I took two bullets for him and was kidnapped three times. Every time Mom saw me hurt, all she ever said was, "Nothing can happen to your cousin." Dad would give me a rare pat on the shoulder. "Daisy, being chosen as Theo's stand-in is an honor." When I was little, I actually believed him. Dad hardly ever praised me. The only time he ever straightened my tie was when he sent me into danger. Then he'd warn me not to embarrass the family. I thought that if I proved myself worthy of that "honor," one day they'd look at me the way they looked at Theo. The night Theo turned 21, our rivals found out which route he'd be taking. So I put on his suit and went out in his place one last time. My cousin made it to his succession ceremony safe and sound. I got shot. Blood soaked through the suit fast. I called Dad. "Dad, I'm at North Hill. I've been sh—" "Daisy, wait another half hour." Dad cut me off. Deafening applause filled the background. "Your cousin's ceremony isn't over yet. We'll come get you when it's done." Then he hung up. They all thought I'd wait for them, the way I had for 13 years. Only this time, I didn't last long enough.

After the tender boat crashes into the breakwater, my husband, Marco Romano, orders his men to bring in the family helicopter. My doctor, Pietro Conti, rushes to get me aboard for medical treatment, but Marco walks right past my stretcher and scoops up his childhood friend, Lia Bellandi, instead. The scrape on Lia's arm isn't even bleeding enough to stain the gauze, but she's been frail since she was a child. The moment she tears up and complains that she's in pain, Marco decides to put her on the helicopter first. Marco is the Don who controls the entire port—and the first to clean up every mess Lia makes. This time, Lia had decided on a whim that she wanted to see the lighthouse. If the boat hadn't changed its course to accommodate her request, the accident wouldn't have happened. Blood soaks through my blanket. I clutch Marco's hand, my voice trembling from the pain. "Marco, please. I'm in a lot of pain. Can you send me to the hospital first?" He pries my fingers away and tucks my hand back into the blanket. "Be reasonable, Elena. You know Lia's had a weak constitution since she was young. She's frightened, and we need to make sure she's okay before anything else," he tells me. "Just wait a little longer," he adds. "I'll leave the doctor here to look after you, and the helicopter will come back for you as soon as it drops her off at the hospital. Stop competing with her over a helicopter ride." My body grows colder by the second, and the red blanket conceals the blood that keeps pouring from my wounds. Marco doesn't know it yet, but this time, I won't survive the wait.

My little sister had always been too frail to run and play, so I wasn’t allowed to, either. My parents insisted I sit quietly beside her and learn to be a lady. “Be more like Bianca,” Mom would say. “You’re a don’s daughter. Act like one.” But when I wore the same color as her, Dad would tell me to change. “Must you compete with your sister for attention?” Once, I baked my brother his favorite almond cookies. He pushed the tray aside. “Bianca makes these for me. Stop copying her just to get my attention.” Yesterday, he snapped at her for interrupting a meeting. She cut her wrist with a kitchen knife. They rushed her to the hospital. My brother pulled the guards from my studio to protect her at the hospital, leaving me there alone. Men from a rival family broke into my unguarded studio. They took me captive, stabbed me in the stomach, and dragged me down to the basement. I called my brother with trembling hands. “They broke into the studio. I’ve been stabbed… Please, help me.” “Stop lying.” He sounded exhausted with me. “Bianca had a scare yesterday, and now you’re telling me you’re dying? You just can’t stand her getting all the attention.” Then he hung up. The concrete was cold beneath me. My hand went slack. The stairs blurred, then disappeared. I hadn’t lied. All my life, they had treated my pain as another attempt to copy my sister and steal their attention. This time, I died. Days later, when the police called them to identify my body, they were frantic with regret.

In the Valenti Family, you're born with a chip. It's fused into the bio-watch on your wrist, its digital face counting down every second you have left to live. Everyone could see the numbers ticking down on my twin sister's watch. And on mine. They all knew she would die on our 18th birthday. So Vivian became the untouchable princess of our brutal world. Every diamond-stitched gown was hers. The rarest jewels were hers. Even our father's last shred of humanity was hers. That single sliver of warmth he showed only after his gun was holstered. I used to pity her. Her time was running out. But God, I envied her. She had everything I never did: our parents' love. Then, the night of her 18th birthday party. My parents worried I'd make a scene. That I'd piss off the Don of an allied Family. So they locked me in the cellar. Damp. Cold. While a deadly fever burned through me. I pounded on the heavy oak door, my voice cracking. "Mamma, please! Let me out! I'm burning up. My head is splitting open…" Outside, my mother's voice was a steel trap. "Enough, Sienna! Today is your sister’s 18th birthday. Her last day alive! Stop the theatrics! Can't you suffer in silence for the Family's honor?" "But I'm really sick..." Her footsteps clicked away, fading into nothing. Then the darkness swallowed me whole. And on my wrist, the bio-watch was flashing a critical alert. CRITICAL ALERT: Vital signs mismatch. Paired chip data incompatible. Please verify user.

Five years ago, on our third anniversary, I rejected Matteo's proposal in front of the entire syndicate. I pointed at my stomach. I sneered at the man who used to worship the ground I walked on: "Don't be naive, Matteo. You're just a stray dog from the gutter. I'm carrying the rival boss's heir." It poured that night. He was shattered. He walked away from everything. Five years later, he climbed over a mountain of bodies. He ruled North America as the new Don. He returned to New York and bought out every single debt my family owed. Then, he brought his pregnant fiancée along and kicked down the rusted door to my run-down apartment. He looked down at me with cold eyes. "What's wrong, Princess? Hiding out in a dump like this now?" He had no idea. My body was already in the final stages of transplant rejection. Every single day I stayed alive was just to see his face one last time before I died.

When Dante Cordano, the Don who had sworn to destroy my family, locked me away at his estate in Vienna, I didn't think I'd survive the winter. But he didn't torture me. Instead, he wiped out every gang that had ever humiliated me and put my name on every territorial agreement he signed. After 1,000 days and nights in his tender trap, I fell for him completely, lost in his kisses. But the night before the four families sat down for peace talks, his personal guard brought his first love, Isabella Marchi, out of a safe house. She was supposed to be dead. So that was why he'd put me on a pedestal. He wanted his old enemies to think I was his weak spot, so I'd be the target in her place. He cupped my face and pressed a syringe into my hand. It was filled with a nerve agent strong enough to make someone appear dead for 48 hours. He coaxed me. "Take it. Once your coffin leaves the cemetery, a helicopter will fly you to Switzerland. You'll never want for anything for the rest of your life." My legs shook as I dragged myself back to the Gariboldi estate, to the family I was born into, and begged my former fiancé, Marco Ferri, to take me away. Marco stroked my hair and gently handed me a cup of hot cocoa, just as he had when we first fell in love. But half an hour later, Marco himself was loading a silenced pistol. My father set an urn on the table, already labeled for my fake death. My mother smiled as she laid out the blood packs I'd need to stage it. They stood around me, their voices cold and perfectly polite. "Cordano has agreed to give up three docks. As long as you 'die' with dignity, everyone gets to live." The Don wanted his true love back. My former love wanted territory. My family wanted to cling to whoever held the power. The whole world was forcing me to obey and turn myself into a corpse. In front of them all, I plunged the needle into an artery in my neck. There was no place for me anywhere in this world. So I would go nowhere at all.

My mother, Donna Isabella, had one rule. Every major family verdict was decided by a set of custom chips. One for each of us. The side with the family crest meant protection. Backing. The blank side meant accusation. Guilt. Majority rules. Once, my brother Nico broke a priceless vase and blamed it on me. Isabella saw the whole thing happen. But she still slammed her chip onto the table in front of everyone. Blank side up. I was locked in the damp wine cellar for a week. "Nico is the heir to the family," she told me. "Take the fall for him. It's your duty." Then there was my sister, Sofia. She flaunted the "Heart of Eternity" necklace right in my face. It was my design. It was supposed to be my engagement gift. I snatched it back, and she ran crying to Mother. Isabella called another family meeting. The chips on the table? All blank-side up. Sofia kept the necklace around her neck, and I had to apologize. But I was born stubborn. Put a gun to my head. I still won't confess. Isabella pointed at the chips. "Your father and brother voted against you. Are we all liars?" Until the day on the yacht. I caught my fiancé. Naked. Tangled in the sheets with my sweet, pathetic little sister. Isabella didn't ask why they betrayed the engagement. Instead, she slapped me hard across the face. Then she brought out that chip box. Five blanks. One crest. My fiancé, Julian, flipped the last blank chip himself. "Aurora, Sofia swore she'd go to a convent. Why are you doing this?" I picked up that single, lonely crest-side-up chip and threw it back into the box. "I did nothing wrong." Isabella stared at me. She slowly shut the box. "Today, you're going to learn something. In our world, 'right or wrong' doesn't mean a damn thing." ...

My adopted sister, Rita Lawson, and I get ambushed by a rival family at the same time. But she pushes me away at the most critical juncture, leading to me getting kidnapped. After my kidnappers feed me poison, they leave me to rot in the wild. When I finally get home, I find out that Rita pretends to be poisoned, so my dad has already given her the only antidote. With tears streaking down her cheeks, Rita tells my parents that she's chosen to ingest poison for me, and yet I abandoned her and fled on my own. Of course, everyone believes her. My parents tell me, "Rita got poisoned just to protect you. You must transfer your businesses to her." My husband, Enrico Fulci, says to me, "Someone needs to take care of Rita. Let's get a divorce, Elisa." Even my own daughter, Ivana Fulci, asks me, "Mamma, when are you going to be as gentle and understanding as Zia Rita?" Faced with everyone's accusations, I drink a serum that I've bought from the black market in order to suppress the poison in my system. It can allow me to live like a regular person. But in return, the poison within me will erupt three days later, causing my instant death. Using the three days I have left, I hand my businesses, my husband, and my daughter over to Rita. Everyone is pleased, thinking that I've finally learned my place. But what they don't know is that Death will come for me after 72 hours.

When I was eighteen, my brothers, the bosses of our mafia family, brought home an adopted sister. And so, naive as I was, I became the biggest nuisance in the family. When Vivian's dress was torn, they blamed me. When Vivian was frightened by the gang violence, they still blamed me. Later, our turf was attacked, and Vivian was kidnapped by our rivals. My brothers, who used to adore me, looked at me with desperate, tearful eyes and broke down. "Piper, we are begging you. Please take Vivian's place, okay?" I quietly looked up at them and softly said, "Okay." So, on that stormy night, I walked alone into the enemy camp and took the place of their beloved princess. As for me, I was thrown off a cliff into the raging sea. I thought I would die just like that, but I didn't. I met Hunter. At that time, he was just a street soldier chased into a dead alley by his enemies. I pressed my last piece of food into his hands. Later, he became the Don. He treated me like a queen and spoiled me for six whole years. I thought he was different from my brothers. But on a rainy night in our seventh year together, Hunter walked through the pouring rain and brought back a woman covered in blood. I heard she was his first love, Sadie. She was the woman who set him up, sending him to prison to be tortured before skipping town.