Plot Twists Mafia の短編小説 &HomewreckerRegret小説

The day Victor Moretti told me he was the Sicilian Don's heir, he also handed me a bill for everything he had spent on me over the years. "Elena, the Family will never let a woman who came to me for money become its next Donna." He pushed the ledger across the table to me. From the hot dogs we shared when we first got together to the condoms we used the first time we slept together. From the mattress-cleaning bill he had fronted to the hospital bill for my miscarriage. Thirty-seven thousand five hundred dollars in total. Every single item, down to the cent. I looked at the man I had loved for five years, swallowed the taste of blood rising in my throat, and kept my voice low. "I have to settle my mother's surgery bill first. I'll pay you back next month." Victor frowned at once. "Camilla was right about you. Women who come from nothing, like you, always have an excuse. I should have listened to her. I never should have broken the rules and gotten involved with you at all. Fine. One month. But you'll pay the same interest rate the Family charges its borrowers." I gritted my teeth but didn't argue. I silently accepted the condition. But the hospital's billing desk had another shock waiting for me. A clerk told me the balance in my account was down to one dollar. The hundred and fifty thousand I had scraped together from every corner of my life to save her was gone. Shaking all over, I called Victor. His tone was as condescending as ever. "I hacked into your account. Camilla Marchetti wanted an antique jeweled necklace, and she was a hundred and fifty thousand dollars short." "It comes to more than what you owe me. Consider the difference payment for the damage you did to my Family's name." With two casual sentences, he had turned my mother's life into a bauble at the throat of a mafia boss's daughter. The call ended. Then a nurse behind me said, "Miss Hayes... you don't need to pay. Your mother... she just took her own life... She said she didn't want to be a bur

I was Sofia De Luca, the only biological daughter of Marco De Luca, the most powerful Don. Then my parents adopted Celeste De Luca as my younger sister, and everything changed. My birthday party could be cancelled because she threw a fit. My place at the elite academy went to her. Even the ruby brooch my grandmother left me was taken away because she said she liked it. On nothing but Celeste's word, my parents branded me a traitor to the De Luca family and personally handed me over to a rival family as a hostage. I endured every kind of torment there. They toured the world with their adopted daughter and lived in luxury. They forgot me completely. It was only when Celeste finally caused a disaster too big to bury that they remembered I existed. But once I was actually dead, the regret drove them out of their minds. If there really is another life, I have only one wish. I hope they learn how to be decent parents. But I do not want to be their daughter again.

"I crossed a line. I fell for Ilaria." On our wedding day, the car had barely pulled away when Matteo Rossi turned to look at me. He pointed at the seat beneath me and said coldly, "Last night, she sat right there, wrapped her legs around my waist and kissed me. I couldn't hold back. We had sex in the car. "I guess I'm no different from any other man. I finally understand Luca. Ilaria really does have more fire in her than you." Luca was my ex-husband and Matteo's half-brother. Ilaria had been my only friend since childhood. Three years ago, I walked in on the two of them in my bedroom. The shock caused a late-term miscarriage. When I fell into the dark, Matteo was my light. And now he had betrayed me the same way.

My mother, Diane Sutton, was helping me into the bridal suite when she suddenly stumbled forward. Someone had smeared strong adhesive across the red carpet. Her shoe came off, and four of her toes poked through her torn stocking. My father, Martin Sutton, rushed over to help her, but as soon as he turned, everyone saw the sticky note on his back. "Clearance! 99 cents!" The room fell silent. Chiara Lombardi, Enzo Valli's assistant, couldn't hold back anymore. She burst out laughing, then said, "Look how embarrassing they look! I hereby declare the 100th test officially underway!" I froze. "Wasn't it already over?" Three years ago, Enzo told me he wanted to marry me. His father, Don Marco Valli, respected me as an attorney but believed my family background made me unfit to marry his son. So Marco and his advisor came up with 99 tests and put Chiara in charge of them. They hoped I'd eventually give up and call off the wedding myself. Over the next three years, Chiara replaced my toothpaste with mustard, swapped my shampoo for depilatory cream, and even released rats into my room at night. Whenever I felt like I couldn't take it anymore, Enzo would pull me into his arms and murmur, "Nora, just hang on a little longer. Once the tests are over, I promise no one will ever hurt you again." He could not openly defy the procedure the advisor had set, but he never once bothered to ask what Chiara had put me through. As long as we got married in the end, what I endured along the way didn't matter. Last night was the 99th test. I thought the nightmare was finally over. Then Chiara announced, "You passed. But your parents haven't! You're going to be the Donna one day. Your parents represent the Family too. If they can't handle something this minor, what good are they?" I turned to Enzo for help. He ruffled my hair as if soothing a petulant child. "Do as Chiara says. Just hang on a little longer." I'd put up with this for three years. I was done enduring it.

The day my husband kicked me off the Rinaldi family council, Irene Costa was sitting in my chair. She had been engaged to his late brother. She was wearing my pearl necklace, and the brooch pinned to her chest was reserved for the Donna of the Rinaldi family. My mother had left me that necklace. I kept it in a safe, and the only person who knew the combination was my husband, Victor Rinaldi. He looked at me, his voice cold. "Irene is taking your place at tonight's South Port negotiation. When you learn to control your jealousy, I'll give you your seat back." No one at the table said a word. My pin, my necklace, and the South Port proposal I'd spent three months working on now lay in front of Irene. Everyone had forgotten that when I married Victor three years earlier, I brought my father's port and connections with me. I was the reason he still held the Don's seat. I was the reason the Rinaldi family had risen again. I reached for my necklace. Victor thought I was reaching for the pin instead and stepped in front of Irene. "It's just a pin. You're still the Donna. Be generous. Don't embarrass Irene." I said nothing else. Four days later, I set a stack of documents in front of him. "The South Port agreements. They need your signature." He was replying to a message from Irene. He picked up the pen without glancing at the documents. "You've checked them, haven't you?" Victor had always trusted my work. He had also always believed that no matter how badly he humiliated me, I would never leave. I watched him finish signing, then pulled the dissolution of our marriage contract from beneath the South Port agreements. In seven days, I would leave with the port my father had left me, the people loyal to me, and everything Victor had spent years mistaking for Rinaldi property.

On the first day of our honeymoon, Dante Moretti, the Mafia Don I had just married, and his childhood sweetheart left me at a gas station. They had driven for twenty minutes before realizing I wasn’t in the car. When he called, panic filled his voice. “Ariana, why didn’t you get back in? I thought you were in the back seat.” Bianca’s voice came clearly through the phone. “She isn’t a child, Dante. You don’t have to turn around for her.” I laughed bitterly. I had lost count of how many times he had left me behind for his childhood sweetheart. When I remained silent, irritation crept into his voice. “Don’t start, Ariana. I’ve sent one of the guards to pick you up. Just wait for the guard.” In the past, I would have forgiven him and waited. But this time, I didn’t want to. I canceled the rest of our honeymoon and removed the wedding ring I had worn for less than three days. Then I called my father for the first time in five years. “Father, I want to come home.” His voice trembled. “Ariana, the Bellini family has been waiting for you.”