Cerita Pendek Tragic Love Mafia & Novel Bias Regret

My boyfriend is the heir to Sicily's top mafia clan. To test my loyalty, he never spent a single dime on me during our five years together. Even when we bought condoms, he insisted we split the bill fifty-fifty. Last week, I was in a car accident. To save the baby in my womb, I urgently needed $1,000 for emergency surgery. I called him from the hospital, begging for the money, but he accused me of lying to extort cash from him and hung up. Desperate, I begged every friend and contact I knew. By the time I finally scraped the sum together, a unbearable pain tore through my abdomen—my baby's heart had already stopped beating. After burying my baby, I went back to pack my bags. That was when I accidentally found a birthday gift list he had prepared for his childhood neighbor, Nadia. A luxury yacht, a star named after her, and endless designer goods. Right then, his voice drifted in from the next room as he spoke on a phone call with his underbosses. "Hey Boss, is it true Elena begged you for a grand?" Dante Moretti scoffed arrogantly. "Yeah, and I stood my ground and refused. Nadia is right. Elena is just a helpless orphan who can't leave me. But to enter my family, she has to pass a strict test. It’s almost over. She’ll realize I did all this for her own good." So my five years of devotion, and my baby's life, were nothing more than a twisted test for a repulsive mafia title. Whatever. It didn't matter anymore. The moment the doctor announced my baby was dead, I had already decided to walk away from him forever.

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.

The Cossini family has a strict rule about marriage—the future don can only marry a woman of equal social standing. But Marco Cossini falls madly in love with me and declares that he won't marry anyone but me. In a fit of anger, his father, Don Sergio, locks him up in the dungeon and uses corporal punishment on him. Even when he emerges covered in blood, he still puts a ring on my finger, saying, "Don't be scared, Helena. You're my entire world." Later on, he inherits the position of Don and organizes an extravagant wedding ceremony for me. After seven years of marriage, I finally get pregnant, but the doctor tells me I need to undergo expensive treatment to keep my baby. I call Marco in a panic, but he doesn't even let me finish what I have to say before replying, "Same rules as always—we'll decide the amount blind-box style. Pick a number from one to nine, and I'll give you the corresponding allowance." "I pick one." Marco has always told me that box number one has the most money. Three seconds later, I get a bank transfer of exactly 9.90 dollars. "It's not my fault. Alessia discovered that you always choose one. You messed up. Choose a different number next time." Alessia Lombardo has taken a bullet for Marco three times before. She's also obsessed with blind boxes. Marco constantly feels indebted to her, so he plays along with her, letting her decide everything in the Cossini family with blind boxes. But of course, he won't be that stingy with me, his own wife. Feeling hopeful still, I try to tell him that I'm pregnant, but the call cuts off. A sharp pain shoots through my abdomen, and my vision goes dark. I lose consciousness. When my eyes open once more, I find that too much time has been wasted. I've lost the baby. In my grief, I wipe my tears away and book a flight abroad that leaves in seven days. I don't love you anymore, Marco.

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.

When Vivienne Carter married Sebastian Cross at twenty-two, everyone said how lucky she was. He was ten years older, a mafia Don with terrifying power in his hands, and yet for three years he doted on her alone. He indulged her in everything, kept her sheltered under his wing, tender and attentive down to the smallest detail. Only in the dead of night did he turn possessive and overpowering, taking without limit, never once relenting even when she begged him through tears. She had always been certain she was the one thing he loved. Then her father died without warning. Drowning in grief, she called him ninety-nine times, and every call was cut off. In an instant, a single photo shattered every illusion she had. On a Paris street softened by dusk, the man she'd loved for three years was bending to hold another woman. That woman, gentle-featured and faintly resembling her, was her cousin.

For six years, Dante Romano kept our marriage hidden. In public, I was only the executive who managed his family’s legitimate businesses, and even our son had to call him Uncle. When his newly divorced childhood friend returned to New York, Dante missed Leo’s birthday to stay with her. That night, Dante signed the divorce settlement without reading it, and I took our son out of his world. The man who never lost control ordered every Romano contact to find us, then crossed the world to bring us back. This time, Leo and I would not turn back.

I attend Don Vittorio Moretti's celebration banquet in a white evening gown that once belonged to his late wife. But his seven-year-old daughter, Sofia Moretti, shoves me into the sea. As I plunge into the water, my ankle gets slashed by a jagged iron piling. The scent of blood instantly draws a frenzy of sharks. Above me, Sofia stands on the dock, clapping and laughing. The cruelty in her eyes is identical to the way Vittorio looks at me. Sofia points at me and screams, "Do you really think wearing my Mamma's dress makes you worthy of becoming the Donna of the Moretti family? "You're nothing but my Papa's mistress. If I tell him to throw you out, he'll do it." I thrash against the freezing waves, and with every kick, every bone in my body howls in pain. By the time they pull me ashore, I'm shivering beneath a shawl. I look at Sofia, waiting for an explanation. Instead, she simply lifts her chin and spits in my face. Whatever remained of my hope for the little girl I'd raised for seven years vanishes in that instant. "You don't have to wait for your Padre to throw me out. I'll leave on my own tomorrow."

On my birthday, my mafia husband, Alessandro, didn't come home to celebrate with me. He sent a bodyguard with a bouquet of wilting roses and a text message: [Picked these myself from the garden. Happy birthday, love.] A moment later, his right-hand woman, Chloe, posted an Instagram story. It was a fifty-thousand-dollar custom flower box, filled with black roses, their petals embedded with crushed diamonds. The caption read: [My Capo says, "If you love me, you show me devotion that never dies."] I didn't storm the casino to confront him. I just packed my bags and prepared to leave the city. The first day I was gone, word got back to me that Alessandro couldn't care less. He blew a ring of cigar smoke and said, "The world out there is dangerous. She'll be back in a few days, begging me to take her back." The first month I was gone, Alessandro tracked me down with an international call. "I'll buy you a villa in the Heights. Just come back, okay?" But a villa was never what I wanted.

After I Took Three Bullets For Him, He Said He Was Just My Uncle I took three bullets for Don Lorenzo Moretti, the man I called my uncle. The last one nearly killed me. Only then did the family elders agree to name me Donna. But in the two weeks I lay unconscious, Lorenzo announced his engagement to Ava, the daughter of a family benefactor. The Rocci, my family, lost its power when I was ten. Ever since Lorenzo, a close friend of my father's, brought me to the Moretti estate, I was certain he would one day be my husband, despite our age gap. He always told me to find men my own age, but I just let it go. In my previous life, I crashed their engagement party, a decision that led to a miscarriage and my own violent death. But this is my second chance, and I have learned my lesson. I will reclaim the token of my love, accept my destiny as Donna, and offer myself in a marriage alliance far away in Sicily. Uncle, I finally understand. A young man is far more entertaining than an old one like you.

Everyone knew that I was the treasure Lorenzo Vitali held in the palm of his hand. When I said I wanted to see the stars, he would have every light outside the estate shut off, leaving the whole night sky just for me. Any emerald I glanced at twice at a private auction, he would win for me, no matter the competition, no matter the price. Back then, I believed, and so did everyone else, that I would walk into the Vitali family chapel in a wedding gown and become Lorenzo's wife. Until that dinner party. I accidentally cut Bianca Rossi's cheek with a shattered wine glass. And everything fell apart. Lorenzo didn't hear me out. He had his men take me down to the wine cellar beneath the estate. There were no windows, only damp stone walls, and an iron door as thick as a coffin lid. For three days I had no water, no food. When the pain made me shake, all I could do was curl up on the ground and claw at the cold cracks in the stone with my nails.

Adrian Vale was the Don the whole city feared, and yet he spent three years chasing me, a girl who waited tables. Then, the night before our wedding, my best friend Nina Ashford and I were taken at the same time. With the cold muzzle of a gun against my forehead, I cried out, my voice shaking, “Let Nina go! She’s innocent!” The kidnapper laughed like I’d told a joke. “Innocent? She’s worth a hell of a lot more than you.” My whole body went rigid. The next second he leaned down to my ear, his smile pure malice. “You really think Adrian’s marrying you because he loves you?” “The day you tried on your wedding dress, he was fucking Nina on your bed.” “And that black ring, the one that stands for the Don’s power? He put it on Nina’s finger a long time ago.” I shook my head, over and over, refusing to believe it. But the kidnapper had already stopped looking at me. He dialed Adrian’s number. “Mr. Vale, you need to make a choice. Your bride, or Miss Ashford. Only one of them walks out of here alive.” “Which one do you choose?” In that instant, I forgot how to breathe. On the other end, Adrian was quiet for only a few seconds. Then he said it, perfectly calm. “Let Nina go.”

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."

At sixteen, I found Owen Hughes in the slums. He was covered in blood—but he stepped in front of me anyway. I thought he was a gift from fate. So I begged my father to keep him close. He became my bodyguard. My classmate. My husband. Ten years later, I learned the truth: it was all a trap. He was undercover. His mission—to take down my father, the mafia don. I walked away. Swore I'd never see him again. Six years passed. Then we met again. His eyes were wet. "Aubrey... is there still a chance for us?"

On the third anniversary of my marriage to Leon Castellano, the most powerful mafia boss in Chicago, I waited for him alone all night in a cabin up on the snowy mountain. A blizzard had sealed off the mountain. The ice cream cake on the table melted down to nothing. I kept calling Leon, but his phone went unanswered. In the early hours, he finally called back, his voice rough with drink. "Sorry. Cecilia's back. I went to pick her up from the airport and forgo our anniversaryt." He left me stranded on that mountain all night. I walked down alone the next morning, and a ranger passing by picked me up in his truck. He didn't know that after that night, I took off my wedding ring. He didn't know that the woman who'd stolen my credit for saving his life was tearing our marriage apart, step by step. That day, Leon slammed the divorce papers down in front of me, his words dripping with disgust and scorn. "Who do you think you are, claiming the credit for Cecilia's kindness to me? She is the sole legitimate heir of the Rosse family, and you? You're nothing but a mistress's bastard! If you hadn't deceived me back then, I would never have missed out on all those years with her!" Something in me finally let go. I signed the papers, faked my death, and flew off into the Sicilian night without looking back. Three years later, I met him again as the princess of Europe's Moretti family. And then Leon was the one full of regret.

The man I love more than anyone in this world, Don Carlo Guardia, has spent ten years loathing me because of his one true love, Margherita Carrettiere. We torment each other until the final days of my life, when he sets aside all his Famiglia's affairs and stays by my deathbed, patiently feeding me my favorite grapes. "Giovannina, if I were given another chance, I wish I had never met you," he tells me with bloodshot eyes. Three days after I am laid to rest, before the entire Famiglia, he raises a gun to his temple and ends his life at my grave. When I open my eyes again, the first thing I hear is the heated argument echoing through my Famiglia's council chamber. A rival Famiglia has obtained all the evidence of our underground financial network. Their terms are clear. If we want this war to end, we must hand over one of our heirs to stand trial. In my previous life, my Papa, Guglielmo Carrettiere, cannot bear to sacrifice me. So, he sends my younger sister, Margherita, who suffers from a heart condition, in my place. Ultimately, she dies a tragic death. Consequently, Carlo spends the rest of his life resenting me. I rise to my feet and speak up before the astonished eyes of my Famiglia's Consiglieri. "Papa, please hand me over. As for the marriage alliance with the Guardia Famiglia… have Margherita take my place." Now that I've been given another chance at life, I choose to give up on Carlo and fulfill his wish to be with Margherita.

At the gala of the Italian Mafia Don, Dominic Caccini, he publicly presented the ruby brooch that symbolized the Donna's status. I truly believed my five years of waiting had finally come to an end. But in the next second, he gently pinned the brooch onto Bianca's glittering gown. The hall erupted into thunderous applause. "You gave it to Bianca? Aren't you afraid of making Dr. Aria angry?" his close inner circle teased with laughs. "Bianca lost a game tonight, and her friends demanded she get this brooch as a forfeit. How could I leave her embarrassed in front of everyone?" "Everyone knows Aria will be my wife. As the Donna, there’s no need for her to petty over Bianca." Every time he used this exact excuse to force me to be understanding. But this time, I didn't argue. Instead, I quietly accepted the Medical College's invitation. The day after tomorrow, I will leave him forever.

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.

At an underground auction, Bianca Ferraro, the fiancee of Don Lucian Castellano, bought a single night of my services for five dollars. Everyone sneered that I was the cheapest woman in the world. Bianca just pointed at me, laughing so hard she shook. "Back then I pinned a traitor's label on her, and as punishment I sold her straight to her creditors." "As I recall, she went for a few dozen dollars." She swirled her glass, her smile turning more vicious. "Five years on, worn out and used up, of course she's lost her value." The guests on the yacht roared with laughter. Only the yacht's owner, Lucian Castellano, crushed the glass in his hand to powder with a sharp crack. Blood ran down his knuckles, but he seemed to feel no pain. He only stared at me. And I, in the bunny outfit Bianca had thrown at me, poured wine for the rich and powerful and angled for their tips as if nothing was wrong. The next second, he shot to his feet and seized my wrist. But before he could speak, I coldly pushed his hand away. "Don Castellano." "You have a fiancee. Do you want my services too?"

The annual Family dinner was in full swing, the clink of glasses and hum of conversation filling the air. Paige, never one for a kind word, stumbled over, a glass of wine in her hand, her breath reeking of cheap booze. "You know," she said, a sly, knowing grin on her face, "I used to be jealous as hell of you. He's a Capo. He runs a whole borough." "A lot of good that's done you, huh? Still stuck in the slums, where gunshots are your nightly lullaby." I heard the mockery in her voice. The list for the Family's secure compound was out, and once again, my name wasn't on it. I held my own glass, my voice steady. "They're Family rules. Not even Dean can break them. A Capo's wife still has to toe the line." She let out a sudden, sharp laugh. "Five years ago, when the first group moved, your name was at the very top of the list! Dean crossed it off himself. Five years in a row, all to build that pristine reputation of his..." Before she could finish, one of the dock enforcers nearby clamped his hand over her mouth. I glanced around the room. The men and women who had been flirting and laughing just moments before now avoided my gaze. Only Dean remained as he was, sitting ramrod straight, not a flicker of shame on his face. He held a half-smoked cigar between his teeth, his voice low and gravelly. "What she said is true. I approved the placements for the compound." "They're for the widows of our brothers who bled and died for this Family. They need a safe place more than you do." "Let others fight and claw for survival. You are my woman. A Capo's wife. You have to understand what it means to see the bigger picture." I smiled, but tears streamed down my face. So that was it. So, does our son have to be an orphan on paper, the child of a fallen hero, to finally get a private doctor and a safe home?