Doctor Mafia Short Stories & Novels

Three years married to Victor, the Don, and as far as New York was concerned, we were untouchable. Until my own car was in the shop, so I took his daily driver from the garage. On the way, I activated the car's smart system and said, "Navigate home." But the screen pinpointed a place I had never seen before — a villa in the suburbs. Then, a sugary-sweet voice floated from the speakers: "Okay! Setting course for Victor and Mia's secret castle." My stomach dropped. Who was Mia? And what secret castle? Without a second thought, I dialed his number. "The home address is set to some strange place." He just laughed it off. "Oh, that. One of my guys' car broke down the other day. I let him use mine to drop someone off." "Okay, no problem," I said, smiling into the phone. I ended the call and pulled up the navigation history. That villa address was listed seventeen times, every single one on a day Victor was supposedly "out of town on business." I fired up the engine and drove.

To prove she was fair, Valerie forced me into the family's live-fire drill. She knew I had a severe heart condition. She knew I couldn't stand the sight of blood. Three hours under the blistering sun. My hands shook wildly. I stared at the trembling rabbit tied to the target, terrified to pull the trigger. "You can't even kill a freaking rabbit? How are you supposed to lead this family?" Valerie's icy voice lashed at me from behind. Tears filled my eyes. I finally pulled the trigger. The bullet tore through the rabbit. Blood spattered everywhere. The smell and all that red triggered my blood phobia instantly. Everything went pitch black. Chloe, the intern medic, walked over and grabbed me roughly. Her eyes were full of pure malice. "Underboss, her vitals are totally fine. Is she faking it just to escape training?" Valerie looked down at my pale face. Disgust and disappointment covered her face. "Gemma, is this how I raised you? Everyone else finished. You don't get special treatment." "You finish this drill today—even if it kills you!" Then, my chest stopped moving. Dead silence. My soul floated into the air. I looked down at Mom, filled with guilt and despair. I'm sorry, Mom. This time, I really couldn't hold on.

To marry Lorenzo Vincenzo, I gave up my photography career. A dream I had held for ten years. But on our fourth anniversary, I asked my sister Greer to draft the divorce papers. She kept asking, over and over. "Why would you leave Lorenzo? He's the top surgeon at St. Vincent's. Rich, gorgeous. Half the city is dying for a shot at him." I swallowed the bitterness clawing up my throat. "Because of a gift." Greer followed my gaze to the music box on the table. The card was in Elara's handwriting. Lorenzo's junior from med school. [Thank you for flying out to do my aunt's surgery, senior. I know it was a long trip. You worked so hard. The little dancers on this music box remind me of us at graduation prom. Hope you like it, Lorenzo.] That day, my father was in a car accident. I rushed him to St. Vincent's. Only Lorenzo could do the surgery. I searched every floor of that hospital, every corridor. Nowhere. I told myself he must be on a business trip. But no. He had left his post for Elara. The same man who once swore he would never abandon the OR for personal matters. Finally, my father died on the table. Greer pulled me into her arms. "The Vincenzo family owns this city. Their reach is everywhere. Where could you possibly go that he would not find you?" I glanced at the flight confirmation on my phone. "Three days. I am flying to Paris, to a photography studio there. And I will make sure he never, ever finds me."

Ten days after giving birth, I told my husband, Ethan Reed, that something was wrong with me. He turned his phone face-down on the coffee table and looked at me for a full three seconds. "Sophia, you just had a baby. It's normal to feel tired." Then he flipped the phone back over and went on texting his office nurse, Serena Blake. That was the last time I brought it up. Everything that happened after that, I assumed was my own fault. That changed when I reached into his coat pocket and felt a collar I'd never seen before. Real leather, brand new, with a round metal tag hanging from it. It wasn't my size.

It took me three years to thaw the frozen heart of Theo, the Mafia's top surgeon, just to marry him. To be his wife, I shut down my documentary studio and locked my Best Director trophy from the independent film festival inside a drawer. I was willing to put away my camera and stay in the shadows as the woman behind the Family's chief surgeon. After he said having a kid in this business was a death sentence, I went to a clinic the very next day and got an IUD. Everyone in our circle was absolutely certain that we would be the perfect power couple. But today, on our fifth wedding anniversary, I decided to get a divorce. My lawyer was my best friend, Jade. She twirled her pen before stopping. "Are you out of your mind? You threw away the title of North America's best independent director for him back then, and now you are telling me you want a divorce?" I swallowed the bitter ache in my chest. "Just draft the divorce papers for me. As soon as possible." She frowned. "But why, Harper?" I looked at the black velvet gift box on the dining table. Inside lay a carefully preserved peony. After a long hesitation, I gave her my answer. "Because of a flower."