Tragic Love Mafia Short Stories & Bias Novels

I've been in a secret relationship with Declan Gibson for five years, and I've tried to seduce him more times than I can count. Yet, when I stand in front of him in my birthday suit and a pair of bunny ears, all he does is worry that I'll catch a cold and wrap me in a blanket. I used to think his restraint came from being the mafia don, that he was saving our first time for our wedding night. However, one month before the ceremony, he secretly plans the city's grandest fireworks show to celebrate his childhood sweetheart's birthday. They hug and share a slice of cake in public. That night, they check into a hotel. … The next morning, I watch them leave together. That's when I realize Declan is not restrained. He just doesn't love me, so I walk out of the hotel. I call my parents. "Dad, I've broken up with Declan. I'll marry into the Sullivan family as planned." My father is stunned. "I thought you were madly in love with Declan. Why did you break up? I heard Bryson can't have children. You've always loved kids. What will you do once you marry him?" "It's fine," I reply, disheartened. "We can always adopt."

I'm the Red Rose of the mafia world, notorious for hating to lose. All my life, I competed with Bianca Rossi, the White Rose of the Rossi family. If she outshot me, I practiced until my hands bled at the seams. If an older family member paid her even one more compliment than they paid me at a party, I replaced every dress in my closet that looked anything like hers the very next day. Then she won Luca Bellini too, the man I had wanted for years. On their wedding day, I stood on the second floor of the hotel and watched Luca drink the toasts meant for Bianca. Then he slipped the Bellini family ring onto her finger himself. I refused to lose. I'd saved Matteo Rossi's life, and I used that debt to force him to marry me. He was the brother Bianca respected most. At our wedding Bianca looked furious, but she still had to grit her teeth and welcome me into her family. I thought I had finally won. The man I had schemed my way into marrying actually fell in love with me. For the first time, I put my claws away for someone and began to think of the Rossi house as home. Then Bianca had a miscarriage, and every piece of evidence pointed to me. In front of everyone, Matteo said he believed me. Behind my back, he froze my accounts, mirrored my phone, and had every person close to me investigated. I escaped the Rossi estate, only to be hunted down and killed. My baby didn't survive either. When I opened my eyes again, it was one week before Bianca and Luca's wedding. This time I'm not competing with anyone.

On Graduation night, the love of my life, Julian, took three stab wounds meant for me. Gang members dumped his body into the freezing waters of Lake Michigan. I gave up my spot at Columbia Law School and went on pilgrimages to churches across the country. I did penance for my sins. For ten whole years. Until a decade later, when the news broke that Julian was taking over as the Don of the Falcone family. I finally realized he wasn't dead. And the glamorous Donna standing beside him was my best friend, Scarlett. Back at his funeral, Scarlett had cried to me, "If you really feel guilty about Julian, drop out of school and walk to churches across the country to pray. It's the blood debt you owe him." Seeing her again now, her eyes were red as she played the victim. "I just loved him too much. When he lost his memory ten years ago... I had to take him for myself and lie to you that he died." Julian, the man who was supposed to love me more than life itself, shielded Scarlett behind his back. He looked at me like a total stranger. It turned out my last ten years were nothing but a joke. I had a heart attack and died in agony. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at Julian's ridiculous funeral. He asked me, "Who are you?" I replied calmly, "Just an ordinary friend you saved." This time, I was done with this love triangle. I wanted nothing to do with them. I was going to chase my dream, go to Columbia Law School, and claim the man I let slip away for ten years—Don Cassian. But later, when Julian finally got his memory back, he begged me like a madman to return.

Three days before my wedding, I find out that my fiance, Carlo Romano, has changed the wedding venue from my mother's estate to a villa located in St. Morizia, which happens to be his childhood sweetheart, Adriana Montanari's favorite place in the whole wide world. When I'm about to confront Carlo, I overhear him complaining to his friend. "Thank goodness Adriana has a good eye for beauty! Otherwise, I'll definitely get humiliated and mocked by everyone for hosting my wedding at such a rundown place!" His friend asks, "Didn't you agree to host the wedding ceremony at her late mother's home? Aren't you worried that she might not marry you out of fury once she finds out that you changed the venue without her permission?" Carlo merely sneered in return. "Giada's family is insanely weak. Marrying me is her only path out of poverty. She can't risk losing me at all. "Besides, I've already told the wedding planner to call her and inform her about my decision. She must be booking another flight and rushing toward the new destination as we speak." Rage and humiliation swirl around in my chest. I gnash my teeth together, but I opt to turn around and walk away in the end. Three days later, Carlo's wedding goes on as usual at the snow mountain. But I never bought myself another ticket, nor did I appear at the new wedding venue. Instead, I've exchanged wedding rings with another man in Mom's manor located in Tuscanica. Carlo fails to realize that I chose to marry him not because I view him as a ticket to wealth. It's purely because I've loved him for 12 long years. I, Giada Castellani, am bold enough to show my feelings. Since I can enter a relationship, I can always exit it freely. That's why Carlo is never my one and only choice in marriage.

My boyfriend, Enzo Valenti, is the sole heir to the Valenti mafia family. He has more than enough wealth to last for generations. Despite being together for three years, he's never bought me a single gift. He even makes me split the cost of the cheapest box of condoms. After a car accident, I find out that I'm ten weeks pregnant. The baby still has a faint heartbeat. If I can come up with another 500 dollars for the medication, there's a good chance the baby will survive. I drain my bank account and borrow from every friend I can. When that's still not enough, I have no choice but to beg Enzo for help. Enzo, on the other hand, is convinced that I'm faking the pregnancy to get money from him. He refuses to send me anything. Three days later, I lose the baby. That's when I discover that Enzo has just given his childhood sweetheart, Vivian Moroni, a villa, a Rolls-Royce, and countless pieces of jewelry. His stinginess over the past three years was all part of a test. He wanted to see if I was only with him for his money. When I tell him I want to break up, he transfers a penny to me in front of the entire company with "Gold Digger" written in the memo. Then, he demands that I admit that the pregnancy was a lie. I pull out the paperwork confirming my miscarriage and the records of the wages he's been secretly withholding from me and lay them on his desk. "You're right. I'm not pregnant. You killed our child over 500 dollars."

My twin sister, Bianca, was born to love freedom. I was raised to be the perfect daughter of a powerful family. When we turned twenty, the Morettis sent a marriage contract. Bianca was meant to marry their heir, Lorenzo, but our father feared her wild nature would ruin the alliance. So he crossed out her name and replaced it with mine. Both families approved. I had no choice. Before the wedding, I wanted one night of freedom. Wearing a red dress Bianca had left behind, I went to the city's most famous underground club. The next morning, I woke in the arms of a stranger who called me by my sister's name. He was Lorenzo Moretti, the man originally promised to Bianca. When he learned I was her younger twin, his expression turned cold. “So even the Carusos' most respectable daughter is no better than this.” For the next five years, Lorenzo never spent a night away from home. He kept no mistresses and took no lovers. He remembered how easily I got cold, that coffee kept me awake, and that lemon crackers were the only food I could stomach during morning sickness. He even quit smoking when I became pregnant. I believed we could still be happy, even if we'd married by mistake. Then Bianca returned from one of her long journeys. I went to the terrace early to wait for her, only to overhear Lorenzo speaking with his man. “If you knew the Carusos had changed the bride, why didn't you refuse the marriage?” Lorenzo paused. “Bianca was never meant to be trapped by marriage or family. She belongs to open roads, the coast, and every place I could never make her stay.” “But the love you've shown your wife these five years wasn't an act. And now she's carrying your first child.” “They have the same face. Maybe I only gave Isabel everything I could never give Bianca.” At last, I understood. He had given my sister freedom and kept me in an estate I could never escape. Was freedom really that sweet? I wanted to taste it, too.

I can see a number above everyone's head. It represents how many times we'll still get to meet. When I was ten, my grandmother's number had only one left. She braided my hair one last time, and that night she slipped away in her sleep. By the time I graduated college, my mentor's number read two. After our second meeting, he moved his whole family overseas and never came back. At twenty-five, I married Cardo Falcone, the Don of the Falcone family. Seven years married, and he came home on time every single day. Every dollar he earned went into our joint account. No matter how busy he was abroad, he'd video-call me before bed. And the most important thing: from the very first day I met Cardo, the number above his head wasn't a few hundred or a few thousand. It was "∞," one that would never run out. I thought that meant we were destined to spend the rest of our lives together. Then Cardo started visiting Camilla, the family's advisor, more and more often. When I pressed him about it, he paused for exactly one second, then bent down and kissed my forehead. "After Marco passed, it's been hard on Camilla, raising Ellie all alone. I have to step in for the family." Marco was Cardo's most trusted man. Three months ago, he died protecting Cardo. Cardo swore he'd protect Camilla and Ellie, because Marco died for him. That was the day I watched the "∞" above his head turn into a real, finite number. I told myself a person's life is limited, so of course the "∞" would change. But during those busy days, the number above his head kept dropping, falling faster with every trip he made to her. On the eve of our seventh anniversary, the night I meant to surprise Cardo with the news that I was pregnant, he wasn't there either, because of Camilla. In that moment, I understood. Numbers never lie. Cardo and I had no future left in this life. I hid the pregnancy test report. On the day I made up my mind, the number above Cardo's head turned into a bright red three.

Everyone knew Dario Moretti loved me more than life itself. Five years ago, he was an heir who had lost everything, hunted by his enemy. He was badly injured, and I hid him in my parents' wine cellar. The Cavallo family made us pay for helping him. They burned down the vineyard and killed my parents in the fire. The day Dario reclaimed control of the Moretti family, the first thing he did was lead me into the main house by the hand. When someone sneered that I was just a vineyard owner's daughter, he had them thrown out on the spot. At our wedding, in front of the entire Moretti family, he promised I would be the only woman he would ever marry. In our five years of marriage, I went through 11 rounds of fertility treatment. Every time a cycle failed, he took it harder than I did. So when I saw Viola Cavallo, the eldest daughter of our sworn enemies, standing beside him at the private clinic, eight months pregnant, my first thought wasn't that he was cheating. The truth was more absurd than an affair. The baby was Dario's. But he had never touched Viola. All he wanted was an heir for the Moretti family, so he'd arranged for Viola to carry a child conceived through IVF. And my 11 "failed" rounds of fertility treatment over the past five years? Every one of them had been faked. Five years ago, during my first pregnancy, I hemorrhaged and nearly died on the operating table. From that day on, Dario secretly instructed the doctors not to transfer any embryo into my body without his written permission. He didn't see it as a betrayal. In his mind, I was his only wife and the only woman he loved. All he'd done was keep me from dying and find another woman to give the Moretti family its heir. That was when I finally understood. The biggest problem between us had never been that he didn't love me. That night, I texted an old friend. "Seven days from now, help me fake my death and get me out of here."

The day I went for my final wedding dress fitting, I scrolled past a new video posted by Linsey Hart—my fiancé’s childhood friend. She held up her left hand to the camera, and there was the ring—the one that signified the donna of the Lucciano family. The one that was supposed to be mine. She tilted her head toward the camera and asked, "Salvatore, you’re really giving this to me? Are you sure your fiancée won’t mind?" His voice came from off-screen, lazy, unhurried. "It’s just a ring. Chiara won’t care. I’ll get her something better. As my donna, she’ll need to learn to be generous." My heart sank at those words. All those months of planning, all that anticipation I’d carried—it suddenly felt like nothing. I didn’t want this wedding anymore. I tapped the screen and left a like. Then, I typed a single comment: "Wishing you both a lifetime of happiness." Then I logged out.

When Dante postponed our wedding because of Nadia for the fourth time, I accepted it silently as usual. But after hanging up, I immediately had my private lawyer draft a divorce agreement. I placed the agreement on the last page of our postnuptial agreement, then asked Dante to sign it. He was rushing pick up Nadia, so he signed his name without reading it at all. "The agreement will take effect 7 days after signing." Seven days. Seven days later was the exact wedding date Dante had promised me. The countdown began.

The casino my husband and I ran was about to go through a chaotic police raid. Anyone who got caught would likely end up arrested. We had the time to leave. But we couldn’t all leave. One of us had to stay behind, or the cops would keep chasing us. Elias, my charming husband, didn’t even hesitate. He grabbed Mireille and left me to handle the cops, tossing over his shoulder, “I’ll send a lawyer to you.” Lucky for me, I managed to walk away without any consequences. And then, I saw, Elias, the man who was supposed to have my back, not only did escape without me, he also whisked Mireille away to some fancy resort, like they were on vacation. He looked so carefree, so unbothered. Not a hint of concern for the wife he’d just abandoned. “Think Seraphina’s gonna be mad that we left without her?” Mireille asked, all innocence. Elias laughed, that cold, detached laugh that sent a shiver down my spine. “Please. As if she’d ever get mad at me. She can handle herself.” He didn’t care. But you know what? Neither do I. Not anymore.

At my pre-wedding blowout, my sister Julia Gallo suddenly challenged my fiancé Lorenzo, heir to the next Don of the Bianchi family, to a "big bet." "Let me guess how many candies you've got in your hand." "Guess right, and whatever my forfeit is, you do it." "Guess wrong, and you're covering all the leftover booze." "I'm guessing... five." She said. Lorenzo opened his right hand. Three. Julia tipped her head back to down the rest of the wine. But then— "You win." Lorenzo pulled his left hand from his pocket. "There are two more. Right here." Julia smiled at him. But tears shimmered in her eyes. She unfolded the note she'd written in advance. "Then I'm sorry. I didn't think I'd actually guess it right off the top of my head." "Your wedding is postponed. Three years." The room went dead silent. Lorenzo just kept smiling. "We've been betting since the day we first touched family business. When have we ever backed out?" "A bet's a bet." This wasn't the first time Lorenzo used me as collateral. I looked up at the clock—past midnight. My phone buzzed. A message from a familiar number. "Happy birthday." "You're not married at twenty-seven, you marry me. Still on?" I replied: "A bet's a bet. Three days, and I'll honor our deal."

On our fourth anniversary, Renzo Romano, my boyfriend, who happens to be the Don of the Romano famiglia, personally comes to pick me up and take me back to the manor. Noticing the 99 red roses in the back seat of the car, I naively think he's finally going to propose to me. The villa's decorated in a romantic fashion, filled with scores of our friends. My heart hammers against my ribcage, and I'm about to say "I do" when I see him hand the bouquet of roses to his childhood sweetheart, Simona Visconti. Fireworks light up the sky outside the window, while drones form Simona's name above us. "Happy birthday, Mona!" My mind goes completely blank, and I freeze in place. "Are you throwing her a birthday party?" Renzo, who's busy presenting Simona with her birthday gift, casually responds, "Yeah. Mona just returned from abroad. We didn’t have time to make arrangements, so I decided to hold her birthday party at the manor." The very next second, he notices my pale face, and a hint of confusion flashes through his eyes. "What's wrong? Is there some other special occasion today?" He vividly remembers his childhood sweetheart's birthday, yet he doesn’t remember our anniversary. I compose myself and plaster an elegant and graceful smile on my face. "It's nothing. I hope she has a happy birthday." Right after saying that, I lower my head and book a flight on my phone for three days from now. Since he doesn't care about me, there's no reason for me to care about him either. It's about time I dump him.

My marriage to Tommaso Volpe, Don of the Volpe family, is part of a five-year contract. We each have someone we love, and we stay out of each other's way. He loves his adopted sister, Gelsomina Volpe, who needs his protection. My heart belongs only to my deceased fiancé, Marco Damiano. For five years, I play the perfect Signora Volpe, enduring Gelsomina's provocations and cruelty again and again. She forces caustic substances down my throat that nearly destroy my esophagus. He tells me to let it go for his sake. She stages her own kidnapping and forces Tommaso to choose between saving her and me. He doesn't hesitate, choosing to save her while I sink to the bottom of that freezing lake. On the last day of our contract, I calmly pack my things and leave the signed divorce papers behind. I need to find a young man who looks just like Marco. He's all I have left to hold onto. But after I leave, Tommaso loses his mind searching for me, saying he's fallen in love with me. He threatens me with the entire city's underworld just to stay by my side. He watches me grow close to my new "replacement" and goes mad with jealousy. He thinks he still has a chance, but he has already lost this game from the very beginning.

Five months after opening my bakery in Sicily, I ran into Quill Moretti, the Mafia Don who had once paid me to be his lover. He stared at my pregnant belly, mockery and warning in his eyes. "Claire, you've got some nerve! Thinking you can use a baby to become my wife! "The only woman I've ever loved is Sherry!" I scoffed. "I think you've misread the situation. "I'm carrying my husband's baby." Quill's brow furrowed. "Trash like you will lie about anything! "I want a paternity test. You're coming with me." I nodded calmly. "Fine. We'll go first thing tomorrow morning." Three years ago, I was nothing more than a hotel housekeeper. While cleaning a suite, I accidentally knocked over the man staying there. Quill. He'd been drinking heavily. He stared at me for a long moment, then dragged me onto the bed. We were tangled up together all night. Once he sobered up, Quill tossed me an agreement. "Be my woman. "A million dollars a month." I thought of my mother, who was fighting cancer and desperately needed expensive treatment. She finally had a chance. I agreed without hesitation. Quill's sexual appetite was insatiable. At least five times a day. But he refused to let me get pregnant. "Someone of your lowly status doesn't deserve to carry my child." So I took the pill, over and over again. Until his first love, Sherry Russo, came back. Quill threw me a bank card. "A hundred million dollars to end this. Be smart and take it." I had always known that Quill's possessive hold on me was not love. So I accepted his offer. On the day of his wedding to Sherry, I slipped away without a word. And married a strikingly handsome billionaire who rivaled Quill in every way in a private civil ceremony.

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.

On our third wedding anniversary, Lorenzo Falcone came back from Sicily with a chest of jewels. Without thinking, he slid the chest toward my sister Vella and told her to pick first. I stared, eyes wide, and the disappointment slipped out before I could stop it: "Lorenzo. It's our anniversary. Don't I get to choose first?" He faltered for just a second. Then he said: "Lily, as a Donna, you should know how to be gracious. You can't always act like a little girl." I'd heard that for over twenty years. Since I was a child, the eldest daughter of the family, I'd long learned to step aside. Give up the horse I loved. Give up my grandfather's keepsake. Give up the chance to study abroad. Give up the voice that should've been mine. My father told me to be sensible. My mother told me to protect my little sister. When I met Lorenzo, I really thought—foolishly—that I was done giving things up. He'd pull me behind him when the gunshots rang out. He'd hold my hand when the nightmares jolted me awake. He'd say it in front of everyone, so sure of himself: "Lily is my only choice." But I was wrong. Not long after we got married, Vella moved in with us. She said she couldn't bear to be apart from me. Lorenzo promised he would treat her like his own flesh and blood, give her a little extra care. But somewhere along the way, extra attention turned into her first—without him even noticing. After she'd made her picks, she handed me the leftover brooch. Old. Tarnished. "This one suits you, sis." I looked at her. Forced a bitter smile. "Take it all. I don't want any of it." Quietly, I slipped my wedding ring off my finger and tucked it into my bag. Three days from now, I'll place it beside the divorce papers on his pillow. And then I'll walk away. From him. From this city that was never mine to begin with.

Vincenzo Costa and I have been in love with each other for eight years. Everyone knows that the heir of the Costa family loves me more than life itself. In order to marry me—an orphan—Vincenzo has knelt outside Costa Estate for three days and three nights. At the same time, he has received 99 whips from his father, the Don of the Costa family, which almost kills him. In the end, Don Edmondo Costa finally agrees to let Vincenzo marry me. But the catch is, Vincenzo must date Sofia Camorra, the Principessa of the Camorra family, and have an heir with her. So, Vincenzo tells me to wait for him for a little longer. I end up waiting for a very long time while watching him traveling to Sofia's villa time and again. At first, Vincenzo still takes three showers and scrubs his skin so much that it turns red. He tells me that once Sofia has given birth to the child, which allows him to fulfill the promise he has made to the Costa family, he'll whisk me far away from the violence and spend the rest of his life with me. Alas, everything has changed. Vincenzo no longer showers frequently. He constantly smells like Sofia's perfume now. He doesn't inform in advance whenever he goes on dates with Sofia. To make things worse, there's nothing but affection in his eyes whenever he looks at her. When Sofia burns up from a fever during her pregnancy, Vincenzo doesn't leave her side at all. She pretends to be gracious by telling him about how understanding she is about his situation. Because of that, Vincenzo wastes no time in admonishing me for being spoiled and pampered. Through the gap in the ward door, I can hear how close and intimate Vincenzo and Sofia are. At the same time, I notice the flash of provocation in Sofia's eyes. Vincenzo has made me wait year after year, not knowing that my biological parents have already found me. They want me to go home with them so that they can give me a real home. That's why this time, I won't be waiting for Vincenzo anymore.

I am the only daughter of the Sivillian Mafia Don, Gino Casati. Papa has groomed four outstanding men to be my suitors so that I may choose one of them to be my fiance in the future. They have protected me since childhood. However, the day before the suitor selection banquet, an enemy Famiglia tries their third assassination attempt on me. All four of them—Enzo Mazzola, Otto Giunta, Marcela Sechi, and Raphael Rosetti—once again turn their backs on me to shield Lia Pagano instead, hiding her safely behind their backs. Lia trembles with fear, looking like a frightened kitten. Enzo hurriedly closes her eyes with his hands so that the bloody scene doesn't scare her. Yet the look he shoots at me is filled with impatience. "Don't just stand there and do nothing, Miria! Lia's already terrified! Hurry up and lure these people away!" I instinctively turn to Otto, but I see him tightly holding Lia's hand while speaking to her in a voice so gentle it's foreign to my ears. "Don't worry, Lia. I won't ever let anyone hurt you." Marcela and Raphael move in perfect coordination, pulling the car up right in front of Lia. Then, they turn to me and say, "You can take a beating better than Lia can. We're getting her out of here first." The Soldati next to me are angered and try to intervene, but I hold up a hand to stop them. As I watch the car speed off, I feel a chill settling deep into my heart. I turn around and get into another car. The moment I return home, I head directly to Papa's study. "Papa, change tomorrow's suitor selection banquet to an engagement banquet instead. I agree to the marriage alliance with the Vaccaro Famiglia."

After I discovered that my husband, Leonardo Marchetti, could not let go of his first love, I started teaching our daughter Sofia to call him "Uncle Leonardo." Sofia sprained her ankle at school. In the middle of the night, Leonardo got a phone call. Valentina was crying on the other end. Her daughter Lily had a nightmare and would not stop screaming for a father. Leonardo left without saying a word. I pressed an ice pack against Sofia's swollen ankle and whispered, "Say 'goodbye, Uncle Leonardo.'" Leonardo promised to come to Sofia's school sports day. Then Valentina called, sobbing that Lily had no father to run the three legged race with him. Leonardo walked out without a second thought. I just handed the phone to Sofia and told her to tell her teacher, "Uncle Leonardo says he cannot make it." Every time, Sofia hesitated. Sofia did not understand why I was making her do this. Until one day, Leonardo finally realized how much he had failed us. He put down all his mob business for Sofia's piano recital and swore he would not miss it. Sofia was backstage with the other children. Then Leonardo's phone buzzed. Valentina. I could not hear what she said, but I could guess. Lily was crying. Lily needed him. Lily did not have a father. Leonardo came back. But before Leonardo could begin his excuse, Sofia's voice came from the stage. "It is okay, Uncle Leonardo. You go take care of your other kid. Mom staying here to watch me is enough."