Mga Maiikling Kuwento at Nobelang Hypocrisy Mafia

On my wedding day, my fiancé's first love walked in holding a little boy and named the groom as the child's father. My mother saw it, and her heart gave out. She died right there on the floor. The wedding collapsed and I went down with it, fainting in front of everyone. When I came to, my oldest friend, Lucian Graves, was sitting beside me. He held me tightly in his arms. He took care of all my mother’s funeral arrangements for me. When the reporters swarmed, he put himself between me and the cameras. He cleared my name over the wedding, and then he got down on one knee in front of everyone and asked me to marry him, swearing he would take care of me for the rest of my life. After marriage, we became the happiest couple in our circle. Then, on our first anniversary, I opened the chat history on his phone. "Don, thank God you set up that wedding disruption. My son and I are happy now." "You did get her mother killed, though. Don't blame yourself. She's the one who insisted on marrying a man who was never hers." The replies were from Lucian. "Nothing to blame myself for. It was just an accident." "As long as you're happy, there's nothing I won't do." The ground dropped out from under me, and the phone hit the floor.

I am the sole heir of the Corsini family, the biggest mafia family in North America. The first Don left behind one ironclad rule: blood comes before everything. But ever since I was a kid, I've fainted at the sight of blood. Even the smell of gun oil makes me sick. So my father chose Arthur Cole, who had once saved my life, to sit at the negotiating table for me. He'd serve as acting Don, one year at a time. Every Christmas Eve, I had to press my signet ring into the wax before he could run the family for another year. In those ten years, I never once interfered in family business. Everyone thought the annual seal was just a formality. Then Arthur fell for Vivian Miller, a senator's daughter. But her family looked down on him for coming from the mob. So I signed over our most profitable shipping company to Vivian as a gift. Only then did the senator give his blessing. Before the wedding, Vivian sweetly told me we'd be real family from then on. But not long after the wedding, she threw an agreement at me. She wanted to marry me off to a Mexican drug lord. "Marrying General Juárez is the only way you can be of any use to this family." I looked at the agreement and laughed. They'd forgotten who really ran this place. Christmas Eve was five days away. This year, I was planning to pick a new Don.

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 took a bullet for Vittorio, and it left my right hand permanently damaged. After that, I stepped back and supported him from behind the scenes. For eight years, I stood beside him as he rose from a low-level underling to Don. On his first day as Don, he had my portrait hung in every church he owned, to show the world who I was and how much I mattered. When I told him we had too much blood on our hands, he began going to church every day to confess and pray for us both. Once, I offered to go with him. He only shook his head, his expression solemn. "You got blood on your hands because of me. None of it is your fault. Let me carry all the sins alone." I was so moved that I believed him for three whole years. Then, yesterday, a security-system reset accidentally connected me to an abandoned camera in the church. Against the church's stone wall, he was kissing a young woman. Silver chalices lay scattered across the floor. "Don..." Her voice was tearful. "This is a church. The Donna's portrait is still out there, watching..." Vittorio frowned. He yanked off his tie and bound the hands she was using to hold him back. His voice came out ragged. "Forget her. Focus." I sat in front of the monitor, listening to the obscene sounds they made, and didn't move until dawn. When the first light of morning came in, I called a contact on the dark web. I'd made up my mind to leave. The family's master ledgers lay open on my desk. Without a moment's hesitation, I tossed them into the shredder beside me. The grinding of the machine echoed through the room. This time, I was done being his right hand. And I didn't want to be his Donna anymore.

I’m the best art forger and intel specialist in Chicago. And I fell for the man who owned it all, Don Vincenzo Russo. For ten years, I was his secret, his weapon, and his woman. I built his empire from the shadows. I thought I’d get a ring. After all, every night he was in this city, he was buried inside me, taking his pleasure. He’d whisper that I was his, that no one else felt this good. But this time, after he was finished with me, he announced he was marrying the Russian Bratva princess, Katerina Petrov. That’s when I knew. I wasn’t his woman. I was just a body. For an alliance, for her, he sacrificed me. He left me to die. So I destroyed every piece of the life he gave me. I made one call to my father in Italy. And then, I vanished. But when the Don who owned Chicago couldn't find his favorite toy… he went insane.

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.

At the family dinner, Ruby took a drag of Nico Rinaldi's cigar. Right in front of everyone. She’s his "personal secretary." A former stripper. She shoved it back into his mouth, leaving her red lipstick smeared all over the tip. I, Don Nico Rinaldi's fiancée, watched him take a drag without a second thought. Back at the estate that night, I called off the wedding. He ripped off his tie. He was annoyed. "Because I smoked the cigar she handed me?" "The one she dragged on," I corrected him. He glared at me. "Isabella, you're acting like a jealous psycho. Making a scene over nothing. Fine. The engagement is off. Don't come crying back to me." He thought I loved him too much. He thought I'd never leave. But he was wrong. Even the hottest fire turns to ash when you spit on it enough. This time? I was done.

I've been in a secret relationship with Luca Alfonso for seven years. I watched his transformation from a fresh graduate to the Don of a famiglia. I know he hates stupid people and bothersome things. So, in the dark of night, I silently clear out traitors within the family and take life-threatening injuries on his behalf. Yet, I never once ask him to disclose the nature of our relationship. I know that doing so will only cause him trouble and paint a target on my back. But later, when his Underboss, Lorenzo Forti, jokingly calls Margherita Vitale his Donna, he simply smiles without refuting it. When I question him about it, his expression darkens. He says, "Her father sacrificed his life for the family. She's suffered enough already. Must you be so suspicious of us?" So, I tell myself that Luca is just such a person. He loathes stupid people and bothersome things, so he's always unwilling to elaborate. It works until the day that Margherita tosses our encrypted list of core family members into the fireplace. With that move, she's burned the list of undercover operatives we've deployed over the past three years to ashes. She falls to her knees in terror. My heart skips a beat. A mistake this serious will, at worst, end with a severed finger and expulsion from the family. I speak up in her defense, "Don Alfonso, I have a backup of the documents." Luca gently helps Margherita to her feet and says, "Don't be afraid. It is what it is." Everyone present exchanges glances, marvelling at his marked difference in attitude today. But in the very next moment, Luca looks at me and asks, "Who gave you permission to make a backup of a top-secret document? Do you know that you've overstepped your authority?" He casts me a glance, then continues, "Go receive your punishment, and don't do anything foolish next time." I watch his retreating figure with growing despair. "Yes, Don Alfonso." It turns out that Luca doesn't actually hate stupid people. He just hates my stupidity.

On Christmas Eve, my husband, Luca Moretti, hosts a dinner at his family estate. As he cuts my baked apple pie for me, a friend sitting beside him quietly asks in Valdorian, "Elena is due any day now. Are you really flying to Besselton tonight to be with her? Victoria is about to give birth soon, too." Luca doesn't look up. "Nico took a bullet for me. Elena and her baby are all he has left in this world. I promised Nico I'd take care of them." "What about Victoria?" Luca places the sliced apple pie in front of me. "I've arranged for doctors and nurses to look after her. She'll be fine here. Elena has lost Nico. I need to be there for her when the baby is born." I stare at the apple pie on my plate without touching it. Luca doesn't know that before I married him, I spent three years working as a Valdorian simultaneous interpreter in Melen. He thinks I'm just an ordinary woman with no family to rely on but him. But he has no idea I'm the sole heiress to the Bellardi family. My parents had opposed our marriage, but I insisted on marrying Luca anyway. I even refused to answer their calls. Now, I set down my fork and stand up. "It's too stuffy here. I'm heading back." This time, I have no intention of waiting for Luca to come home.

Matteo’s childhood sweetheart, Sofia, was trapped between the floors of an elevator for forty minutes. Convinced that I had been jealous of Sofia, Matteo personally locked me inside the family restaurant’s walk-in freezer. “The despair Sofia felt, you need to feel twice over.” My teeth chattered from the cold as I hugged myself and desperately explained, begging him to let me out for the sake of our marriage. But Matteo took the emergency key and locked the freezer door. “Only when you learn to behave yourself are you worthy of continuing to be my Donna.” With stiffened hands, I pounded on the door until my knuckles cracked, my blood freezing into dark ice on the floor. Six days later, he came to open the door with Sofia and issued his order as though bestowing charity. “The punishment is enough. Come out and apologize to Sofia.” But in the cold air that rushed toward him, there was only my purpled, rigid corpse.

I was alone at Maria Hospital for a prenatal checkup when someone added me to a group chat I didn't recognize. Everyone in it was family or a close friend. My foster sister, Linda, had posted a video with the caption, "Enzo is such a great new dad!" In the video, my husband, Enzo, held a newborn and gently played with the baby's tiny hand. The baby's hospital wristband said Maria Hospital. Everyone in the chat was celebrating the birth. No one noticed I was there. My brother Luke wrote, "Congratulations! This family is finally complete." I said nothing. I saved the video. The moment it finished saving, a notification popped up. Linda had removed me from the group. I steadied myself and called Enzo on his private line. "Enzo, where are you?" "Baby, I'm at the airport in Los Angeles. I'm flying back to you soon. "The doctor told me yesterday that you have mild gestational diabetes. I had a nutritionist put together some meals for you. Make sure you eat them." I stood outside Linda's room, staring through my tears at Enzo's back. "Is that so? Do airports have hospital rooms now?"

Melville Taylor and I were chasing the northern lights in Alaska when a gang of robbers carjacked us. To make them let Melville go, I let them tie me to the back of the car and drag me six miles for their entertainment. When they finally stopped, I was covered in blood. Large patches of my skin had been scraped away, and I could barely stand. Then the woman leading the gang pulled off her mask and untied Melville. "Surprise!" Melville beamed at me. "Congratulations, babe. You passed my test! I'm the next head of the Taylor family. I'm sorry I kept that from you. Cecilia and I bet on whether you loved me enough to die for me." His bright blue eyes shone with love. "I'm so glad I didn't lose." I stared at my blood-soaked hands and the wounds covering my body as my last illusion shattered. From start to finish, what I'd believed was a sacrifice for love had been nothing but some absurd test. Then I laughed too. I wasn't the poor little nobody they thought they could push around. I was the only heir to the Calvetti family, the most powerful mafia family in North America. If he didn't value my love, I'd take it all back. "Melville, we're done."

Everyone in Chicago said the same thing: Leonardo Rizzo, the cold, ruthless Don of the Rizzo family, had vanished. It had started a month earlier, when Esme Vale, the most famous fortune teller in the city, told us our marriage was like the moon. "When your marriage shines brightest, a stranger will enter your lives, and it will go dark for good, like the moon swallowed by an eclipse." After that, Leonardo stopped directing the family's gang wars. He stopped going down to the docks to oversee the shipments. He never left the house anymore. He never left my side. He cooked every one of my meals himself and picked out everything I wore. His fear of losing me had become an obsession. All that nervous energy made me laugh. "Leonardo, look at you. Who could possibly come between us?" But Leonardo looked down and pulled me into his arms. "Julia, forgive me for being paranoid. I went back to see that fortune teller. "She drew a card that meant rebirth. She said that if I ever betrayed you, you'd cut all ties, take a new name, and disappear. "And then I'd never find you again..." He looked so lost that, for a second, I didn't know what to think. But it passed. I laughed and put my arms around him, and after that I made a point of clinging to him even harder than he clung to me. Not long after, I got pregnant. When the pregnancy test results came back, Leonardo swept me up and spun me around and around, overjoyed. I thought we could finally put that terrible prophecy behind us. Until the next day, when I nearly lost the baby and was rushed to the ICU.

Through seven years of secret marriage, I was nothing more than an obedient, tirelessly devoted assistant to Don Nathan Harrison. He walked the red carpet at high-profile galas with Susan Ferell, his business partner’s daughter. He booked an entire castle just to host an exclusive rose-themed banquet for her and spent millions at an auction to buy her a crown-jewel diamond necklace once owned by royalty. Their names dominated the headlines daily, dubbed by the Siciamira media as the ultimate power couple of high society. For the first time, I didn't make a scene or shed a single tear. Even when I found that royal diamond necklace intended for Susan tucked away in Nathan’s suit pocket, I simply pulled it out and quietly set it on the vanity. Nathan convinced himself that I had finally grown sensible and understood the overwhelming sacrifices he was making for our future. What he didn't know was that the world's top global syndicate had just tracked me down, crowning me as the sole heir to a century-old empire. And the signed divorce papers were already stamped, processed, and on their way from the courthouse straight to his front door.

My mom loves using me as her bargaining chip to buy her way into heaven. My haute couture dresses, my original sketches, my entire trust fund allowance—the second I look away, she hands them off to her church buddies or broke relatives. All in the name of "saving souls." Whenever I snap, she just acts all smug and self-righteous. "You ungrateful brat! I’m earning brownie points with God for you! It's the only way you’ll ever get into heaven!" The night before my final pitch for Global Lead Designer at L'Étoile, I warned her again and again. I told her not to touch a single thing of mine. Late that night, I caught her trying to sneak my car keys to our neighbor. I rushed over and snatched them back. She just stood there, acting totally innocent. "Your cousin and her friends are going to the new Disney resort tomorrow. She just wants to borrow the car. Is taking the early subway going to kill you?" "Do more good deeds, and God will bless you with that Lead Designer job." I shook with pure rage. "Taking two subways to HQ takes a full hour and a half! Tomorrow's pitch is my entire career! Do you even care?!" "Mom, I’m dead serious. You touch my car today, and we are done. Permanently." She muttered curses under her breath and slammed her bedroom door. The next morning, I saw my sports car still sitting in the garage. I let out a huge sigh of relief. Then I looked at my desk, and my blood ran ice-cold— My briefcase was gone. The one with my exclusive sketches, my encrypted flash drive, and my pitch credentials. Completely gone. I let out a bitter laugh. She thought she could hold my life hostage forever in the name of "holy virtue." But little did she know, this time, I’m kicking open the gates of hell for her. Since she’s so desperate to get into heaven, I’ll personally send her to prison to cleanse her soul first!

This was the sixth time Dante Falcone had slammed that damned divorce agreement down in front of me, forcing me to sign. This time, I did not resist. He set down the pen. In that instant, a suffocating silence filled the room. His deep brown eyes locked onto me, sharp and probing, as if he were trying to see straight through my soul. "Why so obedient this time, Sofia? Or are you planning another trick? Don't forget who you are. Mrs. Falcone." I removed the ruby ring that symbolized the mistress of the family, the one he had placed on my finger when he proposed to me in Sicily. I set it gently on the desk, a surface stained with both blood and money. My voice was calm, lifeless. "No, Dante. I'm just... tired. Your world is too loud."

My mother-in-law’s final wish was simple—she wanted one last trip to Hawaii, to bask in the warmth of the sun before her time ran out. But her son, Vincent, didn’t see it that way. He thought I was manipulating her, using her as an excuse to drag him on a vacation he didn’t want. So, out of spite, he refused to grant her dying wish. I begged him. Pleaded. Swallowed my pride and all the hurt his accusations brought. After relentless persuasion, he finally relented. I thought, at last, I could give Lucy the happiness she deserved. But on the day we were set to leave, Vincent was nowhere to be found. And that same day, Lucy suffered a heart attack. She passed away with only me by her side—never getting to feel the warmth of the sun on her skin one last time. And then I saw it. A picture. Vincent, tagged at a luxury resort with his ex. The caption from her read: Thank you for abandoning your job to take me on this trip. You’re the best. I didn’t scream. I didn’t cry. I didn’t even confront him. I just packed my bags and left. And this time? Vincent found out about the truth and begged me to stay.

To make Lilith Vance happy, Vincent Salvi hands her the western coast shipping route I had worked so hard to secure. Tears stream down the young woman's face as she clutches Vincent's sleeve and nervously glances at me. "Don Salvi, are you really letting me manage the route Donna Cecilia risks her life to secure? I've never even held a gun. What if I mess everything up?" Vincent gently pats Lilith's back, unable to bear seeing her so upset. She's the only family his savior leaves behind. Vincent turns to me, his voice softening as he gives me a pleading look. "Cecilia, today marks the anniversary of her brother's death, and she's having a rough time. Lilith just wants to try managing the route for a few days. "You're a respected Donna. Don't hold it against an innocent young lady like her. Let her manage it for a while. It will make her feel better." This is the third territory Vincent takes from me just to please Lilith. He's convinced that I'm too in love with him to walk away after five years of fighting by his side. He assumes that all he has to do is ask, and I'll swallow my pride like always. He thinks I'll help him repay his debt to his savior and clean up their mess. This time, I don't protest with tears in my eyes. I simply smile and slip off the family signet ring that represents my power. "Sure. It's yours." Vincent has no idea that the weapons tycoon behind the route does business with no one else but me. The handover deadline is just five days away. When Lilith, that helpless young woman who does nothing but cry, finally faces the weapons tycoon, she takes the entire Salvi family down with her.

The ninety-ninth time Luca Moretti canceled our wedding, I was on my way to the venue. "The Delorme shipment leaves the docks at ten tonight. Go keep an eye on it." Through the phone, I could hear the noise of a party and Nina's whining voice. "Luca, let's hit a bar after this, okay? We haven't let loose like this in forever." I tightened my grip on the phone. "You said we'd go see the wedding venue tonight." "Another time, Sophia. The shipment can't wait, and Nina deserves a chance to unwind." He paused, as if something had just occurred to him, and added, "Nina's craving the soufflé from that French place on the south side. Grab one on your way back." I stood there for three seconds. Then I nodded. "Okay." We'd been together for five years. He'd given me the title of Donna, but he'd never given me a wedding. Since he was always so busy, there was no point in having one at all.

For the five years I was married to my mafia husband, Dante, I never once showed my face to the Moretti family. I thought it was Dante’s way of protecting me. Until a family meeting record landed in my hands by mistake. It said Dante Moretti had formally married Gianna Romano. The date was five years ago. When I saw that name, I froze. She was Dante’s most trusted capo. She’d saved his life. She was also in love with him. Five years ago, she’d been against Dante marrying me. While I was performing on stage, she deliberately sent a spotlight crashing down and destroyed my career as a pianist. Afterward, she cried and said she hadn’t meant to. Dante believed her. He couldn’t send her to prison, but he swore that from then on, he’d never let Gianna appear in front of me again. I didn’t trust Gianna, but I trusted Dante. Now I’d found out that on the very day my husband made that promise to me, he married her. I clutched that thin sheet of paper as the warmth slowly drained from my body. I didn’t go into hysterics or demand answers. Instead, I took out my phone and opened an email I’d received three days earlier—an invitation from the Aurellian Ministry of Culture to apply for citizenship through its exceptional talent program. I tapped “Accept.” Seven days from now, my name would vanish from this country without a trace.