เรื่องสั้นแนว Familial Bond Mafia และนิยายในฉาก Face Slapping

My twin sister and I were supposed to celebrate our succession on the same night. Beth Moretti would inherit the family's weapons business in Naples. Her portrait towered over the banquet hall on a massive screen as the elders gathered around her, showering her with praise. Our parents, Vincent Moretti and Elena Moretti, couldn't have looked prouder. "Beth has always been exceptional. She was at the top of her class, won countless awards, and was already managing the family stables at eighteen." I stood alone in the corner, completely ignored. By the time anyone remembered me, the gala was almost over. One of the elders happened to spot me. "What about Monica? What will she be taking over?" My parents froze. For a moment, neither of them had an answer. Beth gave a small laugh. "Nothing important, I think?" Everyone laughed with her. I kept quiet. I had apparently been put in charge of the family armory, though no one had even bothered to tell me themselves. My father finally looked my way. "At least she stays out of trouble. That's good enough." Of course I stayed out of trouble. They had sent me to boarding school when I was four and left me to grow up on my own. I learned early how to take care of myself because no one else would. During school breaks, my parents would take Beth on vacation while I stayed behind. To them, I had always been the daughter they could forget. So yes, I was easy. I had learned a long time ago not to expect anything from them. After the gala, I went looking for my family. They were nowhere to be found. Then I learned they had already gone home with Beth. I took a deep breath, pulled up the Turner family's invitation from two months ago, and typed, "I accept." Then I booked the earliest flight out. This family had forgotten me for years. Now they could forget me for good.

On the day my fiancé, Raphael Moretti, and I were supposed to get our marriage license at city hall, I dressed with care. But by noon, he still hadn't shown up. Aurelia De Luca video-called me. "Sofia, where are you? Raphael's been waiting for you all day." Panic hit me. "Weren't we signing in Palermo?" Aurelia frowned. "It's Taormina, Sofia. Everyone's been waiting for a long time." I drove straight to Taormina. When I arrived, no one was there. When the video connected, Aurelia was crouched on the ground, laughing hard. "Sofia, don't tell me you actually went. We're already on Lipari. Raphael's setting up the wedding venue to surprise you." I left my car at the port and took a boat to Lipari. The water was rough. I threw up the whole way, and my makeup ran down my face. But when I arrived, no one answered my calls. I waited alone outside city hall until it closed, not knowing what else to do. Aurelia suddenly appeared behind me in a straw hat and smacked me hard on the back. "You really chased us all the way here? The underboss and Raphael only came to keep me company on vacation." I spun around with a yelp. My heel caught on the step, and I fell. Raphael stood there holding Aurelia's shopping bags and purse. "Didn't we agree to get our marriage license after the trip? You couldn't wait? You had to chase us all the way here?" My uncle, Vincenzo Ferraro, saw my pale face and frowned. "Lia is the cheerful one. You've been timid since you were a child. How are you ever going to take over the family?" Seeing Aurelia's smug smile, I didn't even feel like confronting her anymore. I wasn't angry. I wasn't sad. I just wanted to escape a home that had never felt like mine. I only had to stay away from the people and places that made me miserable. For good.

I had always known my family hated me. Or maybe more accurately—they hated me for taking their real daughter’s place for so long. When they finally found Lily, their real daughter and sister, Matteo, the brother I grew up with, told me to disappear. Father, Don Kane, never looked at me twice again, no matter how hard I tried. Mother treated me like I was invisible. But they never let me leave. They made me stay and suffer. One day, Lily did something horrible, and they threw all the blame onto me. I was locked away in an asylum. When I was finally released two years later, the Kane came looking for me again, smiling as they called me their real daughter after all. A little too late for that, don’t they think?

My boyfriend, Miles, finally invited me to his family’s Christmas dinner. I passed out on the way there. Half-conscious, I heard him whisper, “Sorry, Eva. Those thugs said you’re just their boss’s type. Too pretty for your own good, babe. Blame that—not me.” “Don’t be scared. If you help me pay off the debt… maybe they’ll let me have you back. I’ll make it up to you. For the rest of your life, I swear.” He wheeled me through the back of a casino. My family’s casino. The boss he was selling me to… was my brother. Ever since our parents died in a crossfire, my brother had taken full responsibility for me. More than a brother, he’d become a father figure—a protector. My stupid boyfriend should be scared—he had no idea how fiercely my brother protected me, or how ruthless he could be to anyone who dared hurt me.

Three days before my family was due to divide the estate, I came across a post online: "Both my older daughter and my younger daughter are wonderful. How should I split the family assets so it looks fair?" A commenter replied, "Split it evenly, obviously. What is there to agonize over?" I was bored and about to scroll past when I spotted a familiar username. It was my brother's. "If you don't know the real situation, don't hand out advice." "As their older brother, I know how things actually are at home." "Anna never spends money anyway. Give it to her and she'll just let it sit. Annie, on the other hand, has poor health. She can't leave the house without bodyguards, and she needs top doctors on call around the clock. Someone in her situation should get a bigger share." Right below that comment, William chimed in: "Well said." "However Mr. and Mrs. Vittoria decide to divide the estate, the Moretti family will do everything we can to look after Annie and Anna." I read those comments and smiled. Back when we went to banquets together, Annie would tell me that she and the others were headed to the restroom. I'd wait there like a fool, only to learn after the banquet ended that they had all gone home long before. I used to believe that as long as I stayed close behind them, they would never leave me behind. But every time I turned around, they were already gone. Only I was left standing there. Nothing has changed. All they see is what benefits Annie. I was never in the picture. They probably assume I'll keep putting up with it forever. Too bad. This time, I'm done.

The night Victor Ferrante, heir to the Ferrante family, brought the management agreement to our house, he didn't speak to my father first. Instead, he smiled at me, over in the corner. "Don Romano, how nice of you to let your idiot daughter stay and witness this." I was the youngest daughter of the Romano family, and the most famous good-for-nothing in the mafia world. I'd been slow ever since I was a kid. You had to call my name three times before I'd look up. My brother, Adrian Romano, took over the casino at 18. My sister, Valeria Romano, was running our family's foundation by 20. I couldn't even remember what the different-colored poker chips were worth. My father tried every doctor and priest he could find. After more than a decade, the whole family finally accepted that I would never get better. But it wasn't that I couldn't speak. I didn't want to. In my last life, I reviewed contracts for crime families. Trusts, inheritance, management agreements. I'd seen plenty of takeovers dressed up to look respectable. In this life, I just wanted to stay quiet. Until tonight. Our seat on the Committee had been frozen, our casino license suspended. All our banks had pulled their support at once. My brother couldn't find a way out, and Lorenzo Bassi, the advisor we'd trusted for ten years, had already been bought off. He urged my father to sign, playing the loyal advisor. "Don, sign it. At least the Romano family will still have a seat on the Committee tomorrow." My father picked up the pen with a shaking hand. I couldn't stand listening anymore. I was done pretending. As my family stared in shock, I walked over and turned to page three. "The main agreement says this is temporary. But the attachment gives the Ferrante family a way to take our seat for good. Sign this, and we'll never get it back." I looked at Lorenzo. "How much did the Ferrante family pay you to put a takeover agreement in front of my father?"

My name is Estella Savelli. I'm Severin Savelli's wife, and the Donna of the most feared Mafia family in this city. For ten years, I've devoted myself to managing his family's affairs and raising the two children he had with his ex. Then Valerie came back. His first love. The mother of his children. In just one week, she made my 16-year-old stepchildren, Lucien and Seraphina Savelli, forget who stayed up all night beside them when their fevers wouldn't break. Or how I'd pulled them into my arms when the shooting started and bled to keep them safe. The kids took her side fast. They helped Valerie frame me for stealing the Savelli family signet ring and selling secrets to our enemies. To punish me, Severin locked me in the dungeon. That night, I heard laughter upstairs. They were toasting Valerie. When the dungeon door slammed shut, I thought something inside me would die. But in that pitch darkness, I finally saw my own heart for what it was. I'd spent ten years loving them, and I'd never once loved myself. So I decided to file for divorce and walk away with nothing. Severin thought I'd end up on the street, begging for his pity like an abandoned dog. But when I came back after disappearing for three years, they were the ones on their knees, begging for my love. And this time, I wouldn't spare them so much as a glance.

I use to think that I'm the pillar of this family, but I later realize that in my husband's eyes, I'm merely a machine expected to provide for the family and serve the household. I'm not allowed to ever complain about being tired or exhausted. After flying overseas for business and staying up all night to negotiate deals for Marco Botti, I return home in the early hours of the morning and am still expected to make supper for his mother, Lucia Palmieri. On our wedding anniversary, I get into an accident. The hospital contacts Marco, and he promises that he will be there. But he ends up leaving me to endure the entire emergency rescue procedure alone. When I regain consciousness, I see my seven-year-old daughter, Sofia Botti, holding Marco's phone and showing me the cake from last night. "Mommy, can you always stay out and work overtime every day? I want to play with Claudia every day without you around." She then points at Marco in the photo with a huge smile on her face, showing me how Marco's arm was snaked tightly around Claudia Durante's waist just last night. She was leaning into his embrace, pressing her face against his shoulder. Claudia has been my best friend for more than a decade. I return the phone to Sofia, but the movement tears at my wounds, and it hurts so much that I don't dare to open my mouth in case I cry out in pain. Finally, I no longer need to find an excuse for Marco, nor do I need to find another reason to stay with him. I don't want this home anymore. I just want to leave with the old golden retriever that my Papa, Arturo Vitale, left me before he passed. The moment I'm discharged from the hospital, I immediately file for a divorce. Marco stands at the courthouse exit, tugging at the handle of my car with his eyes reddened and teary. "Erina, how could you just throw away our 12 years of marriage like this?" I don't spare him another look. He should be grateful that all I'm serving him are divorce papers and not an execution order from the Vitales, the biggest Mafia Famiglia in Sivilly.

After our rivals murdered my parents, I had to become something else. A fortress. I held the Blackthorne family together all by myself. My younger sister, Anna, couldn't stand the life—the blood and the fear. She cried, begging me to send her away, to college overseas. I said yes. And the first thing she does when she gets back? She goes to the Commission and accuses me of stealing her inheritance. She said it with this entitled, high-and-mighty tone. "My boyfriend, Victor, the Falcone heir, says I can't lose." "I just want what's mine," she said. "Half of the $8.7 million Mom and Dad left, and half of the Blackthorne family's power. Fair is fair, right?" But she knew damn well she'd already blown through every last cent of that $8.7 million. And the extra ten million I'd earned for her on top of that. That's when it hit me. My sacrifice hadn't just been for nothing. I'd raised a goddamn wolf, and she was insatiable. So this time, I let the kindness die. I gave her a cold smile. "My sweet, naive sister. It's time I showed you how a real Godmother plays."

The year I returned to the Moretti family, everyone expected the biological daughter and the adopted daughter to fight for their place in the family. But Gianna was different. She was the first to learn sign language so she could communicate with me. She knew I hated sitting with my back to a door. She also knew I didn't want anyone asking why I still refused to speak after two years back home. That night, at a charity gala, my father was supposed to sign an agreement that would end our family's involvement in the port's illegal operations. Instead, Luca Vitale stormed in with representatives from eight families and proposed a toast to my father. He took one sip and collapsed. A second later, the ballroom screen lit up. Gianna's payment to a pharmacist and chat messages mentioning "Dad's wine" had been used to make it look like she'd bought drugs to murder our father. She really had made that payment. She handed over her phone for everyone to see, but the original messages had been deleted, and she couldn't recover them. Luca gave us ten minutes: hand over Gianna or hand over the port. All the while, Luca's doctor stood beside my father with a syringe in his hand. He refused to say where he'd gotten it. My mother told Luca, "You can have the port. You can't have either of my daughters." Gianna pulled away from her anyway and walked straight to Luca. All she asked was that he let our father go to the hospital first. As she passed me, she signed with trembling hands, "Don't tell them about your past for my sake." I stared at the syringe. I'd seen that same medical kit at the clinic in Malta. I'd also seen what happened to patients once they became bargaining chips. If Gianna was willing to go that far for me, then I was willing to risk everything for her, just this once.

My fiancé of three years, Julius, sold me. To a black market auction in Vegas. I was sold to another man for five million dollars. Julius was begging me. "I owe five million," he pleaded. "If I don't pay up, they're gonna dump me in the river." "You're a dead ringer for the Don of the Norling family's late wife. All you have to do is keep him happy, and my debt gets wiped clean." "Don't worry," he said. "When he gets tired of you, I won't think any less of you. We'll still get married." So they drugged me and delivered me to an estate that was all too familiar. But here’s what he didn't know. The Don of the Norling family would kill for his daughter. And I'm that daughter. The one he’s kept hidden all these years.

I grew up fatherless, clawing my way through the Chicago underbelly with my mom. She always said he loved us. That he just had to go far, far away. Until she got terminally ill. I dropped out of design school and rushed back, ready to drain our life savings to treat her. But she put a pair of scissors to her own throat. She told me not to touch the cash. It was the only thing she had to leave me. I pretended to agree. But the second I turned around, I took our fifty grand and ran to Mr. Sal, the neighborhood's back-alley doctor. I begged him to save her. "Fifty grand? This buys her three months. Tops." He lit a cigarette. Through the smoke, his eyes bored into me. Like he was looking at a ghost. "Your mother... she was once the brightest jewel in Chicago. Gave it all up for a man. That man took her money and became the city's real estate king. He's Mob-connected. Maybe you should go ask him for help." I took that poison home with me. And I didn't breathe a word. When she found out I spent the money, she held me and cried. "My foolish girl, why are you so stubborn? I'm dying anyway. What about your school? How will you pay for it?" But while I took care of her, I tore through all her old things, looking for proof of that bastard's betrayal. On the night of his empire's 20th-anniversary gala, I crashed his party. I brought two things: a blood-stained marriage certificate, and a lawyer. "I'm looking for Nico Russo. He can either honor a twenty-year-old marriage... or he can sign these divorce papers."

After I gave myself the last dose of painkiller, I stood outside the hotel all afternoon in the vintage couture gown Lucian had chosen for me himself. The black Bentley motorcade that was supposed to come for the bride never arrived. What I heard instead was the chatter of people passing by. "Did you hear? The youngest Don in New York is getting married. He and the bride have been together ten years." That stopped me, because Lucian and I had only been together seven. "They say he bought a blue diamond, the only one of its kind in the world, just to set it in her ring. He's proposing at the church today." The moment I pushed open the church doors, Lucian looked straight at me. "Cassie, I knew you'd come. Ten years ago you lost Elena, the true blood of this Family, and left her to be ground down at the bottom of the world. You had the safety and glory of the Family name while she endured ten years of hell. I let you believe in that engagement for exactly this day. I want you to feel what it's like to be thrown away by everyone." Three people I knew better than anyone sat in the front pew. Marcus spoke first. "You took the life that was supposed to be Elena's. She's back, so it goes back to her. You owe her that." My heart felt like a cold gun barrel was pressed against it. I couldn't get air. Nobody knew that a month ago I had been diagnosed with end-stage neurological failure, and that I had one day left. For my last hours all I had wanted was to hold the hand of the man I loved, with my family around me. I walked out of the church calmly and dropped the keepsake he had given me into a trash can. But now I'd changed my mind. I wasn't going to spend my last day intruding on any of them.

Ten years ago, I died in a shootout. My men recovered my body. I left behind only one daughter. My husband, Colton Rinaldi, found our daughter selling cigars at the docks. Under the blazing sun, she was drenched in sweat. The wooden crates had rubbed her shoulders raw and bloody. Colton's face fell. He pulled her aside. Then he demanded, beside himself with rage, "Why are you doing hard labor here? Where is your mother? How could she dump you in a place like this? "She's so damn selfish!" Mia Rinaldi had never seen him before. She stared at him, bewildered. "Who are you? Do you want a cigar? They're cheap." Colton lifted the crate off her shoulders. The veins on the backs of his hands bulged. "Even if she's angry with me, she has no right to torment you like this. Come with me. As far as you're concerned, you don't have a mother anymore." With that, he grabbed her hand and tried to lead her away. Panicked, Mia bit his arm and glared up at him. "Don't talk about my mom like that! Who are you? Get away from me! "Let go of me!" Blood streamed down Colton's arm. Colton went livid. "What has Monica Bellini been teaching you? She's angry with me, so she taught you to be this rude? "I'm your father!" My spirit hovered beside Mia. I tried to wipe away her frightened tears. My hand passed straight through her. A bitter smile tugged at my lips. How could Colton not know? I wasn't sulking. I was dead.

In the underworld, power is paid for in blood and betrayal. And I was born to rule. I survived the back alleys of the Bronx. Then I was adopted by two different mafia families. The first family's fake daughter cried. She wanted my territory. I smiled. I crushed her. I took every illegal casino and smuggling route in Brooklyn. The second family's fake heir slit his wrists for pity. I yawned. I took his black Amex. And the keys to the armory. I won. Clean. Both times. I sent those two idiots to the most dangerous prison on the East Coast. At twenty, a bloody DNA report showed up. Turns out, I'm the long-lost daughter of the Callahans. The biggest Irish mob in Boston. My first day at the Callahan estate, the adopted daughter in her innocent white dress knelt at my feet. She clutched her chest, trembling. "Sister, my heart is weak. I won't live long. All these years, I've been using the family's best black market medical resources. They even spent a fortune from the off-the-books accounts to find me a new heart." "I feel so guilty. If you think I stole your place, I can just die right now." My biological mother, Eleanor, screamed. She threw herself over the girl, holding her tight. Shaking and sobbing. My biological brother, Victor, slammed his gun on the table. He pointed it at me. "She has a serious heart condition. It's your first day and you're already trying to kill her?" Even my fiancé—some political match arranged by the old-timers—laughed coldly. "She sheds one tear, and the arms deal between our families is off. For good." I didn't flinch. I walked over, slowly. Knelt down. My fingertips wiped away her fake tears. I scanned her heaving chest. Then I leaned in close to her ear. My voice was a low, mocking whisper. "Don't be scared, sweetie. I'd never kick you out." "After all—" "I’ve seen a lot of fake sisters. Your acting is the absolute worst. You won’t last a week."

The day I inherited Grandpa's "Peacemaker," I received a call from myself, ten years in the future. "Sienna, don't give that gun to Lorenzo." I obeyed without question. That night, forced to use his faulty Glock, Lorenzo was beaten into a vegetative state during a duel. Guilt nearly broke me, but my parents nursed me back to health. Or so I thought. "You idiot," my future self sneered. "It was a lie to get you on the operating table. They want your heart for your brother!" Finding a transplant agreement in my father's study, I publicly severed ties with the Morettis. Only later, after Lorenzo died from rejection, did I learn they just needed my rare blood, not my heart. I wanted to return and atone, but the phone rang again. "Your parents will kill you for honor. Don't go back." I waited. But instead of assassins, news arrived: the Morettis had been slaughtered by rivals. I bolted for home, only to be mowed down by a black sedan. As I died, I couldn't understand why my future self had orchestrated my end. Then I opened my eyes. I was back at the ceremony.

Ever since she was two, Elara Vane became her twin sister's personal blood bank after the girl was diagnosed with a rare genetic defect. Doctors predicted her sister wouldn't live past eighteen, so her parents and brother doted on her, putting her first in everything. They even blamed Elara, accusing her of "stealing" her sister's nutrients in the womb, claiming it made her sickly. In her past life, no one in the family loved her. Only her fiancé, Dante, truly stayed by her side. But Elara never expected Dante's love had its own agenda. Until her sister accidentally fell off a cliff and needed a full blood transfusion. Dante signed the consent form without hesitation, sending her to the operating table to be the donor. As her blood drained and her consciousness faded, Elara swore that in another life, she would never be her sister's blood bag again! The next time she opened her eyes, she was back to the day after her engagement to Dante...

I've been married to my Mafia Boss husband for 15 years. When we first got married, he couldn't even afford a ring, but I didn't care; I loved him. I hid my identity. I secretly used my family's influence to help him build his empire from scratch, and I even bore him two children. His adopted sister always mocked me, calling me an old-fashioned housewife and saying I wasn't good enough for him. To avoid embarrassing him, I always endured it. Until our 15th anniversary, because both me and his adopted sister wore red dresses, he told me to stay in the kitchen: "Sofia's right. That red doesn't suit you. Don't come out until the banquet actually ends. Stay in the kitchen. I don't need the Dons from New York seeing you and getting the wrong impression." I was completely heartbroken and didn't argue anymore. I dialed a number I hadn't made in 15 years: "Principessa?" "It's me," I said, my voice steady. "Tell those old fossils on the Council... Isabella Corleone is coming home."

The day the Family divided up its businesses changed everything. Everyone crowded around my twin sister, helping her choose. My brother had his eye on the port operation in Cagliari. "Of course we should go to Cagliari first. I've got a club there too, so I can help you out." Umberto offered her control of his medical network. "Come into healthcare with me. I'll show you the ropes, and within two years we'll have the Family's money running through legitimate businesses." They argued back and forth until our parents laughed at the scene. "Beth, with them helping you, we can rest easy. Handing the Family's affairs over to you is the perfect fit." I stood off to the side, watching, my fists clenched. No one seemed to notice that my sister and I had both just finished our studies abroad. Umberto walked over and ruffled my hair. "Adele, you still have a lot to learn. Once Beth has made her choice, just follow along with us." My brother added casually, "Just find any job that pays the bills. Leave the Family business to us." I said nothing. My heart was pounding. It had always been this way. Even when we were little and candy was handed out, my sister always got the biggest, brightest piece. My brother unwrapped it for her, and Umberto raced to pop it into her mouth. I was the one to throw away the wrapper. I never even got a crumb. I should have been used to it by now. Since none of them cared about me, I wasn't going to play their game anymore. I booked a flight to the farthest place I could find. From that day on, we were strangers. As if we had never known each other.