Bittersweet Mafia 短篇故事與 Bias Regret 小說

At our joint engagement party, my best friend and I both left with rings on our fingers. Sabrina Vale was marrying Luca Marino, the boy I’d loved for ten years. I was marrying Adrian Calloway, the man every society columnist in New York swore was obsessed with me. When it was my turn to make a toast, Sabrina brought up an old bet and grinned at the crowd. “Let’s see whether our princess already has her fiancé on a leash.” The guests started chanting for Adrian to smear engagement cake across my face. His hand stalled. For one stupid second, I thought he’d put the plate down and stand beside me like he always promised he would. Then Luca asked if Adrian was whipped before the wedding had even started. Adrian’s jaw tightened. He pressed the cake into my face himself. While the room howled, Luca told me Adrian had only approached me because the three of them had made a bet. Sabrina slipped an arm through mine as if we were still best friends. “No one betrayed you, Elena. You’re making a big deal out of a joke again.” Adrian stood in front of me, absolutely certain I’d forgive him. “The wedding’s still on. What more proof do you need?” They waited for me to cry, demand answers, and give them another chance to explain my own feelings to me. Instead, I wiped the frosting from my eyes and sent one message to my mother in Milan. [Mamma, tell the family I’m ready to come home.]

I'm the heiress of the Corleone family, with three childhood sweethearts who used to adore me and watch over me like I was their whole world. Then Daisy Washington, the little maid, showed up—and suddenly I didn't exist anymore. But my father, the don, didn't know. So at the family victory gala, right in the middle of the toast, my father said, "Freya, tell me, who's the one? Point him out, and we'll get you engaged tonight. Right here, right now." The whole room went quiet. Every pair of eyes swung to my three so-called protectors: Nico Gibson, Arlo Mcdonald, and Rhett Owens. But they acted like they hadn't heard a thing. One was feeding Daisy from his fork. One was whispering something that made her giggle. And the third just watched her with that soft, doting look I used to get. The room went dead silent. My father's face stiffened. I quickly jumped in, "Dad, my boyfriend's overseas. I'll bring him to meet you when he's back." The three of them snorted, shooting me mocking looks. I knew they didn't believe me. They thought I was just saving face. But I actually did have a boyfriend.

In my previous life, I took three bullets for Conrad Kincaid, the guardian who raised me, and lost any chance of becoming a mother. Only then did he agree to marry me. When I was ten, my parents were killed in an attack by their enemies. Conrad saved me, took me home, protected me, and doted on me. I fell hopelessly in love with him. I was sure that if I stayed by his side and was good to him, I'd win his heart someday. But on our wedding day, Alice Brooks, who had loved him all along, left for Antarctica and died in an accident. From then on, every time he looked at me, he saw a murderer. In ten years of marriage, he never treated me badly, but he never once shared my bed. He was always cold and distant. Then a fire broke out. He gave me the only chance to escape and died in the flames. Before he died, he said, "In the next life, don't take a bullet for me. I don't want to be forced to marry you again." His words cut so deep that I passed out. When I opened my eyes, I was back at the moment before I took those bullets for him... Looking at the familiar face across from me, I made up my mind. This time, I'd let them have each other.

My fiancé, Dominic, heir to the Carvalho crime family, vanished for four days. I thought a rival family had put a bullet in his head. Then I saw his ex’s Instagram story. A shot of them in bed. The caption: He still knows every inch of me. His face was hidden, but his hand wasn't. And on it, the ring I gave him, resting on her skin. That night, Dominic came home. He brought me white roses, my favorite. I asked him why. Why he'd lie. Why he'd sleep with her. He brushed it off. Just a "misunderstanding." I was done. I threw the ring in his face. Burned the wedding dress. Told him we were over. He thought I was just throwing a fit. He didn't get it. Not until he realized I was walking away for good. Then he panicked. Begged me to come back.

Three years ago, I drugged the mafia heir, Vincent. After that one wild night, he didn’t kill me. Instead, he fucked me until my legs went weak, gripping my waist and whispering the same word over and over: “Principessa.” Just as I was about to propose, his first love, Isabella, returned. To keep her happy, Vincent let a car hit me, had my mother’s heirlooms thrown to stray dogs, and sent me to prison… But when I was finally broken, flying to Boston to marry someone else, Vincent tore New York City apart to find me.

On my 28th birthday, Carl Thorne asked me to meet him at the Moon Goddess statue. He specifically told me to wear a wedding dress and said he was finally going to keep his promise and mark me. But when I arrived in my wedding dress, its train trailing behind me, he turned to the crowd and laughed. "See? I don't even have to mark her. One word from me, and she'll come running. I win. The hunting grounds are mine." Then he raised an eyebrow at me. "Vera, I was only joking. The pack still sees you as their Luna, mark or no mark." When I remained silent, Carl grinned. "If you're so desperate to be marked, why not pick someone here?" The crowd burst out laughing. Everyone knew I was Carl's fated mate, that I was hopelessly in love with him and would never choose another. But when I took my new husband's hand and completed the marking ceremony, Carl went white and froze where he stood.

At our son's piano competition, my husband, Richard Hayes, received yet another call from Vivian Morgan. I'd lost count of how many times he'd said the same thing to me. "Elena, Vivian says Mia keeps crying for her daddy and won't go to sleep. She wants me to come over and help. I need to go..." I cut him off before he could finish. "But you promised Leo you'd be onstage with him when he received his award." "I'm sorry. I promised Jay I'd look after Vivian and Mia. I can't break my word." He paused. "Leo has you. I'm sure he'll understand." Before I could say anything to stop him, Richard turned and disappeared into the crowd. I watched him go and smiled bitterly. Jay Morgan had been his closest partner on the job. Jay had died on a mission, saving Richard's life. And Vivian was Jay's wife. Ever since Jay died, Richard had been taking care of her and her daughter. Short on money? She called him. Daughter sick? She called him. Daughter crying for a daddy? She called him again. Richard took care of everything for them. And our home? It was just Leo and me. When the competition ended, Leo took first place. He scanned the audience, his eyes bright with anticipation. The moment he saw me walk onto the stage alone, the light in his eyes slowly faded. He gave me a sad, knowing smile no child his age should have to wear. "Mom, Dad left us again, didn't he?" I opened my mouth to comfort him. But he suddenly grabbed my hand and looked up at me. "Mom, you said we'd move somewhere Dad wouldn't be. Did you really mean it?"

A week before our wedding, Kane Orsini bought two islands, one for me and one for my younger sister, Zelinda Bellucci. But Zelinda pointed to the island in the photos that was meant for me. "I like this one." As he'd done countless times before, Kane didn't ask what I wanted. He just ruffled Zelinda's hair and said, "Okay." Then he looked at me. "She's your sister. Just let her have it." Just let her have it. Kane said those words more than anything else. I thought I'd do what I always did: swallow my feelings and say "okay." But I heard my own voice say, "That's your wedding gift to me. I don't want to give it up." Kane looked a little surprised, but he just raised an eyebrow and smiled. "It's just an island. I'll buy you a few more after we're married. "Be a good girl," he said, pinching my cheek and praising me the way he always did. "You're the most understanding person I know." His voice was so gentle that I gave in again. But the next day, when we were supposed to have our pre-wedding photos taken, Kane never came to pick me up. I waited three hours and called him 27 times. He finally picked up. "Zelinda wanted to relax on the island. It's not safe for her to go alone, so I'm going with her." My voice shook. "What about our wedding?" Kane sounded casual. "I'll be back in time." "But you're my fiancé." I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "How can you go on a trip with someone else right before our wedding?" Kane sounded annoyed. "Zelinda isn't some stranger. She's family. "It's just one trip, Mirta. Don't be petty." He hung up. I held the phone to my ear long after the call went dead. Then the knot in my chest suddenly loosened. Kane was always telling me to be understanding, to let Zelinda have her way. This time, I did. I gave her our wedding too.