Contos de Mafia sobre Plot Twists e Romances com Defy Fate

We were in the middle of exchanging rings when Carlo Corvo suddenly let go of my hand. His eyes were locked on the velvet box behind me. Inside sat the founding Don's signet ring, the one everyone said had been lost for ages. "Selena, look at this crest." He called out to his consigliere, Selena Rossi, of all people. I knew this scene by heart. Three years ago, on his birthday, I carried a cake into his room. He and Selena were finalizing an arms-smuggling route, and he told me to get out without even looking up. Last year, I took a bullet for him and nearly died. He was at an auction bidding on antiques. Every voice message he sent was in code, and not one of them asked if I was okay. Every time I came near, he said the same thing. "This is family business. You wouldn't understand." Now they stood together at the altar. He studied the crest while she wrote down the serial number, perfectly in sync. He had made me a promise once. "Elsie, I'll give you the biggest wedding anyone has ever seen. No bride will ever be more honored than you." But now, under the stained glass, he frowned and gave an order. "We're postponing the ceremony. A lead like this doesn't come along often. Elsie, step aside." Just like that, he had turned our wedding into an investigation into family business. But this time, I didn't walk away like a good girl. Right there, I ripped the train off my wedding dress and dragged it through the roses scattered across the floor, just as I had dragged myself through ten bloody years at his side. The moment I turned around, a cold, ancient laugh rang out inside my head. [A signet ring? That's the same iron tag I used for guard dogs and condemned prisoners. How stupid can they get!] The voice belonged to Vittorio Corvo, the legendary Don betrayed by one of his own 100 years ago. His soul had been living inside me, and now he was fully awake. [Poor thing, lend me your body. I'll show them what cleaning house really looks like.]

On the day of my coming-of-age ceremony, I must choose a fiancé from among the heirs of three great families. Everyone believes I will choose Dario Morandi—the man I have pursued for years. Instead, I pick up the photograph of his older brother, Cassiano Morandi. Cassiano is known as the lunatic who was kidnapped by enemies at the age of five and thrown into an underground fighting pit. He survived on his own for ten years before the Morandis brought him back. No one thinks he is worthy of me, the Vito family's Principessa. In my previous life, I choose Dario. On our wedding day, Lina Greco—the daughter of Papa's chauffeur—shows up in a white wedding dress with her pregnant belly on display, crying as she claims the child is Dario's. Enraged, I have her thrown out. But amid the chaos, she suffers a miscarriage. Dario smiles and goes through with the wedding. But in the third year of our marriage, he steals classified intelligence and hands it over to my famiglia's enemies. I die that very night. Now that I have a second chance at life, I decide to fulfill his wish and let him be with Lina. What I never expect is that he has been reborn as well.

As the Cavallo family's consigliere, I had a perfect record. Time and again, I'd planned hits that left rival territories soaked in blood. But today, they were calling the escape route I'd spent three months perfecting for an operation across the border a trap. They said I'd set our own men up to die. Not one of our men made it out. Every last one of them was dead. Back at the estate, every gun in the room was aimed at me. No one wanted to hear another word out of me. They pinned me to the floor and beat me until my face was a bloody mess. They didn't stop until someone pulled up the dark-web transaction records. Just an hour earlier, someone had put my escape route up for sale on the dark web for 30 million dollars. "Elowen, you'd sell out your own people? What, the family didn't pay you enough?" Riccardo Lombardi, the fiancé I'd grown up with, pressed his gun to my forehead. My adopted sister, Sophia Cavallo, pulled up my bank records. The most recent deposit was for exactly 30 million. Her voice was cold. "Father, the proof is airtight. Execute her according to the code. We owe the men who died that much." The evidence was right there in front of everyone. My father, the Don, looked at me with nothing but disappointment. In the end, he had me strapped to an iron chair and strangled with a wire until my neck snapped. I died with one question still unanswered. How had the plans I kept locked in my safe, behind a combination only I knew, ended up on the dark web? When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day before they accused me.

The blood diamond necklace was a symbol of power. The moment Dante Corsini fastened it around Elena Ferri's neck, the banquet meant to seal a blood pact between our two great families turned into a complete farce. "And now, the heir of the Corsini family will place the token of loyalty on Ms. Serena Rossi." The voice of the Don presiding over the ceremony echoed through the hall. Dante picked up the necklace and walked toward me. Then he walked right past me. The heads of the five families stared in shock. The necklace represented control over half the underworld, yet Dante had fastened it around Elena's neck. She was the daughter of his trusted underboss. My hand froze in midair. "Dante, have you lost your goddamn mind?" A Rossi elder slammed his hand on the table, and the hall filled with the clicks of guns being cocked. Dante snapped out of it and jerked his hand back like he'd been shocked. He strode back to me, braced both hands on the back of my chair, and lowered his voice with his usual arrogance. "Serena, don't make this uglier than it has to be. The lights were in my eyes, and you were both wearing black gowns... It was a mistake. We'll do it over." When you're in real danger, the person you instinctively trust to watch your back is the one who matters most. "It's fine." His eyes were dark and dangerous. For three years, I'd been crazy about those eyes. But now I glanced sideways at the new bodyguard in the corner. If I had been in Dante's place, I might have walked straight toward that man in the shadows too. I knew the old scar on his wrist. It belonged to my first love, Gabriel Falcone, who had died in a car bombing seven years ago. So really, it was fine.