Independence Mafia の短編小説 & Face Slapping 小説

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.

In New York’s Upper East Side, there were two heirs. One was a speed-obsessed daredevil dominating the racetracks, the other was a brilliant actuary who controlled the flow of capital. Born into powerful families and polar opposites in temperament, yet they grew up side by side as each other’s only best friend. They had fought over girls and bickered endlessly over racing bets. However, at fifteen, there was one thing they did in perfect unison. They each put on the same roughly carved bronze badge. They were trinkets Mia had idly made during a craft class, marked only by a faint “M” scratched on the back. Back then, Mia was seated in the last row of the classroom. Her background was a complete mystery to everyone. Yet they wore that badge for ten whole years. Whether standing on the F1 podium or locking in billion-dollar trades at the exchange, the cheap little badge on their chests never changed. Until Ella showed up. She was the cherished daughter of a rising conglomerate family. She hand-stitched two gold-thread fabric patches and gifted them to them. The patches looked so ordinary they looked like the kind of trinket you would find three for a dollar at a flea market. And yet, they both replaced their bronze badges with her plain patches. Mia did not say anything. She simply folded away an old newspaper clipping with a photo of the three of them smiling together. That night, she called her father in Sicily. Her voice was emotionless. “Papa, I accept the marriage arrangement.”

I stood by Leo through three hard years. At last, his company launched. But at the celebration dinner, he didn't propose. He handed me a check for $30,000 instead. "Elena, take this money and go back to your little town. Stop clinging to me." Leo looked down at me with the smug pity of a man who thought he'd made it. "I'm going to marry Chloe, the governor's daughter. It's my ticket to Rockwell Ranch." He pinched my chin and said cruelly, "You're a penniless orphan. You didn't think sleeping with me for three years would buy you a place at the top, did you?" I looked at him and suddenly felt like laughing. I'd helped Leo build his studio from nothing. We couldn't afford staff, so I did everything and worked late every night. Once, my blood sugar dropped so low that I fainted and ended up in the hospital. Three years of love. Three years of giving him everything I had. And in Leo's eyes, a mere $30,000 was enough to settle it all. I studied him for a few seconds, then took the check. "Fine. Since Mr. Green is so generous, let me be the first to congratulate you on your marriage." He thought I was forcing a smile and strutted off to mingle with the important guests. Outside the banquet hall, I climbed into the black bulletproof sedan waiting for me. In the back seat, my father, the governor, was leafing through Leo's bid proposal. "Elena, you ran away from home and hid who you were for three years, all to test this man? "If you're done playing, come home. The papers transferring Rockwell Ranch to you are waiting for your signature."

I was the Romano family's sole heir. After my mother fell gravely ill, I took over her position at a young age. To train me and help me, she brought in Angelo Rizzo as my deputy. Every year on Family Day, I renewed his appointment with the family seal. Angelo helped me each time. So it went on for twelve years, and he treated me like his own sister. A year after my mother passed, Angelo decided to marry Layla Gallo. The Gallos heard he'd run the Romano business for twelve years and agreed at once. I was happy for him. I even gave him three properties as a wedding gift. The day after the wedding, Layla sold them. On the third day, she cut off my access to the family funds. On the fourth, she brought me a ledger. "Your food, clothes, and everything else over the years add up to a hundred and fifty million dollars." "Sign an IOU." "You can't keep leaning on Angelo forever." I stared at the IOU, dumbfounded. Wait. Did she really think twelve years of Angelo managing the accounts made the Romano family his? I was the one who renewed his appointment every year with the family seal. And here's the thing. Three days later, it was Family Day again. This year, I didn't feel like renewing it.

I woke in the middle of the night to my Don husband murmuring in his sleep. “Juno, be good. Tomorrow I’ll buy you and Mamma a new house.” My eyes flew open. Juno? That was the name I’d always planned for a purebred Ceylon cat I dreamed of owning, but I’d never gotten one because of my pet fur allergy. And a new house? Could this just be a coincidence? I shook him lightly. “What did you just say?” He frowned and mumbled coarsely, “Had a nightmare. Dreamt of a shootout.” I didn’t press further. In the darkness, I reached for his phone and silently opened his messages.

I was the eldest daughter of the Costa crime family until an engineered car crash killed me three years ago. When I opened my eyes again, to my shock, three years had passed. I had been reborn. For three years, hatred had blinded my three brothers, and they had welcomed our true enemy as family. They trusted Elizabeth, the woman who copied my every move, without question. They let her join forces with our enemies and gut the Costa Family from within. Fools. Since I was given a second life, I would set everything right. Rebuilding the Family would start with my youngest brother, Nick, the Wall Street prodigy.

Last Christmas—in my past life—I was on vacation when the call came. It was Lucy, the family’s new pet capo, and she was in a panic. She’d blown the deal with the Colombians, she said, and now they were threatening to make us pay. I had to rush back and clean up the mess. I saved the deal, but it still cost us a shipment of hardware. And then Lucy, the one who caused the whole mess, pointed the finger straight at me. “It was Madeline! She gave me bad intel! She must’ve set me up!” The truth? The deal went south because she mouthed off to the Colombians and pissed them off. But Henry, the Godfather I’d served loyally for years, didn't want to hear my side. He just branded me a traitor. He kicked me out of the family and put the word out to every outfit that I was a rat. I had a price on my head. I died in some gutter, my body left for the dogs. When I opened my eyes again, it was just before that Christmas. This time, I walked straight into Henry's study and handed over my family signet. "I want out." This time, I can’t wait to see who’s left holding the bag with the pissed-off Colombians.

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.

The night before our engagement party. My fiancé's childhood sweetheart, Isabella, said she had a "family welcome" for me. A little tradition, she said. For a "nobody." She tricked me. Lured me to the family's private boathouse on the lake. Then she opened the floodgates. Let the freezing lake water pour in. Icy water seeped over my ankles. On the shore, guests from the five Chicago families. They held their drinks. They watched me struggle. Watched me fight for my life. She smiled like an angel. Her words were pure poison. "Doesn't Alessia know all about rules? Let's see how low she'll go for Nico." My fiancé, Nico Falconetti, heir to the family, stood by the warm bonfire. Watching me across the dark water. He gave Isabella an indulgent look. Then his eyes met mine. His voice was calm. Arrogant. "Just don't let her die," he told his men. Careless. "A nobody like her needs a lesson. To learn our rules. When she learns her place, I'll pull her out myself." Later, I smashed the window. I crawled ashore. He offered me his warm jacket. I shoved it away. I wiped the water and blood from my face. Then I called my grandfather's Consigliere. "Tell our people. Freeze all credit to the Falconetti family. Cut off their south-side shipping routes. And send the video from tonight to every family on 'The Commission.' I want the Falconetti family wiped from Chicago's map."

For six years, everyone in the Vistari family had known the rule: if shots rang out, get me out first. My boyfriend, Leon Vistari, was the head of the family. He'd given that order himself. But at a party held for his ex, Catherine Ricci, the champagne tower collapsed. Glass shattered. Every bodyguard rushed past me to shield her and get her to the emergency exit. The crowd knocked me down. My right hand landed on broken glass. Leon arrived, made sure Catherine was safe, then finally looked down and noticed me sitting in a pool of my own blood. "Catherine has been through a shooting before. Sounds like that make her freeze up." "The doctor said if the cuts had been any deeper, I might never have been able to use a scalpel again." He was quiet for a moment. When he spoke, he didn't sound the least bit sorry. "But you're fine now, aren't you?" Suddenly, I laughed. I didn't shake with fear. I always got through things on my own. Apparently, that meant I deserved to be left behind. Six years ago, he'd ordered everyone to protect me first. Six years later, he'd told them to save another woman instead. That night, I called a number I hadn't contacted in six years. "I'll agree to the arranged marriage." Leon thought I'd keep giving in. This time, I was done. In three days, I would marry his greatest rival—the man he wanted dead more than anyone in the world.

I had planned a family vacation to Caspian Isola for the upcoming break, including a trip aboard a private luxury yacht. Apparently moved by how busy I was, my husband, Matteo Grieco, offered to purchase the necessary tickets on my behalf. It wasn't until the day before our scheduled departure that I realized everyone, from his parents and cousins to even the maid, had a ticket. Everyone except me. Then, his childhood friend, Sophia Bamonte, posted a family photo on social media and tagged me. Sophia: [Madam Camilla has graciously offered to let us go in her place!] I demanded an explanation from Matteo, but he told me Sophia was like a little sister to him, and he wanted to bring her along. Since there were limited seats on the plane, he had given her mine. "Besides, you still have a lot of things to take care of, don't you? I know you'd rather enjoy some peace and quiet at home by yourself!" Matteo claimed. Well, well, well. He had actually come up with such a ridiculous excuse to justify himself, almost as if he'd forgotten who the real breadwinner of this family was! Without another word, I took my daughter and returned to my mother's house. I switched off my phone and didn't turn it back on until the following afternoon. The first thing that greeted me was a notification of 137 missed calls. My dear mother-in-law had also sent me a dozen voice messages, each about a minute long. The last message was from my own husband. "Camilla, please answer! We can't pay our bills!"

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 married Don Caspian Serrano. The King of the New York Underworld. But I didn't know his ex-wife took more than just full custody of their daughter. She extracted an ironclad vow from him. Every quarter, he had to take them on a two-week vacation. All over the world. Right under the eyes of the Five Families. She called the shots. She wanted to prove one thing: the alliance between Serrano and her family was bulletproof. So on my wedding night? I slept alone. For three years, he missed every single anniversary. Until this year. His daughter sent me a prank gift. I tripped. I rolled down the stairs. Blood soaked the rug. I was hemorrhaging. Miscarrying. The doctors wouldn't operate without Caspian's approval. I called his encrypted line over a dozen times. He finally answered. His voice was exhausted. Annoyed. "Aria. Are you really making up this sick lie for attention? Framing my daughter?" "I just landed in Vegas. Tonight decides the survival of the West Coast syndicate. I am not ditching them for your petty games." "And another thing. Schedule your surgery tomorrow. Make sure you can't get pregnant. I swore a blood oath to her family. The only heir to the Serrano empire will ever be Nora." So that was it. Even if I wasn't bleeding out. He never wanted my baby. I hung up. Calmly. I touched my empty stomach. I signed the surgery consent form myself. He was loyal to his vow. Loyal to that woman. Fine. I didn't want to be his Donna anymore.

I've waited five years for my mafia fiance, Daniele Moretti, while he keeps pushing our wedding back again and again. I've turned down every man who approaches me and put up with all the snide comments from high society. On the eve of exchanging our marriage alliance contract, thanks to a bet with his lover, Daniele decides it's hilarious to switch the groom's name. He replaces himself with his uncle, Samuele Moretti, a man who is practically on his deathbed. Daniele laughs as he brags to his friends, "Regina's obsessed with me. When she finds out, she'll cry and beg me to change it back." I stand just outside the door and hear every word. On the day of the wedding, I take Samuele's arm—the "sickly wreck" Daniele keeps mocking—and walk him up the aisle. When Daniele finally shows up late with his lover and tries to turn the ceremony into a spectacle, I slap him across the face. Now he's the one who has to call me Aunt Regina.

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...

My husband, Cesare Ferrante, the most feared Don of the Ferrante family, had always hated children. Yet everything changed the moment my stepsister, Bianca Moretti, moved in next door with her six-month-old baby. Suddenly, my husband became obsessed with that child. He personally fed the baby formula, sang lullabies, and carried the baby everywhere he went. Every day, he came home exhausted at dawn, yet his face glowed with joy, as if that baby occupied his entire soul. I became invisible to him. Three days ago, someone forced my car off the road, and I crashed into the median. Blood streamed down my forehead, and my vision swam. I called Cesare 55 times. He did not answer a single call. Instead, he posted a photo of the baby on his social media. [My little angel smiled today!] I had had enough. Tonight at the family banquet, every member of the famiglia was seated around the table. I raised my final toast, then set down my glass. "I want a divorce." They all froze. "Are you insane?" My parents' voices rose in unison. Cesare grabbed my wrist, disbelief written across his face. "Giulia, you want to divorce me just because I was busy taking care of the baby and didn't answer your calls? You're actually jealous of a six-month-old child?" I did not meet his eyes. Instead, I stared at the glaring kiss mark behind his ear. "Since you love that child so much," I said calmly, "I'll make it easy for you. Go be that child's father."

My father was the most feared Don in all of Sicelia. He ran every illicit arms deal and casino in the underworld, his name alone sent shivers through the Mafia world. He worried that, as his only heir, I might fall for the wrong man. So he ordered every family to send a representative, and I would choose my marriage partner by lot. I drew Bernardo Vito, heir of the Vito family. It was an arranged marriage, but I still wanted to meet him in person. To keep up appearances before the evening banquet, I stopped by a haute couture boutique. The moment I stepped inside, my eyes landed on a deep crimson velvet gown. Just as I reached for it, a sharp voice pierced the air. "I want that dress she's holding. Wrap it up for me." Before I could even react, a clerk snatched it from my hands. I clenched my jaw, forcing myself to stay calm. "I saw this dress first, and I was ready to pay. Is this how you treat your customers?" The woman laughed, as if I had just told the world's funniest joke. Her gaze roamed me with contempt, and she sneered: "This dress is worth five million dollars. A country bumpkin like you can only look. "Me? I am Bernardo Vito's favorite assistant. In this city, nothing I want is ever taken from me!" I could not help but laugh. Bernardo Vito? The very man I had drawn in the marriage lot? I pulled out my phone and dialed. "Bernardo, your favorite assistant just stole the dress I had my eye on. What are you going to do about it?"

After Stefan Grimaldi's first love died, he hated me for five years. I did everything I could to please him, but he never softened. The only thing he ever said was, "If you really want to make me happy, go die. Go keep Sienna company in her grave." It cut deep every time. I told myself it would always be this way, that he would carry that hatred until one of us was gone. I was wrong. When assassins came for us, Stefan stepped in front of the bullet without hesitation. He went down in my arms. With the little breath he had left, he looked up at me and said, "Annie, if there's a next life, I hope I never meet you again." At his funeral, his father stood over the casket, barely holding himself together. "Stefan, I was wrong. I never should have forced you to marry Annie. If I had listened to you back then and let you marry Sienna, none of this would have happened," he said. His mother turned on me, tears streaming, her eyes filled with blame. "This is all your fault. Every time, Stefan ended up in danger because of you. What have you ever given him besides disaster?" I kept my head down and said nothing. They were not the only ones with regrets. I regretted marrying Stefan too. On the night of the full moon, I climbed to the top of the church tower and jumped. I woke five years in the past. This time, I was done.

During a street shootout, my distress signal was accidentally sent to the ex I had forgotten to delete. Dante, the district boss, looked down at me, covered in blood, and sneered: Three years, and you finally found an excuse to come looking for me?" "I'll give you credit for coming up with such a desperate act as taking a bullet. I'll forgive you this time." I trembled all over with fury. Three years ago, just because his childhood sweetheart, Mia, said she envied my engagement ring. Dante forcibly pulled the ring off my finger, and Mia became the star of the engagement party. I was thrown out of the banquet hall. That was when I gave up completely and fled New York. Seeing that I said nothing, he magnanimously bestowed upon me: "Mia has depression, and her father sacrificed himself for the family. I can't let her be wronged." "It's just a ring. Was it really worth sulking for three years?" "As long as you behave, we'll hold another engagement party next week." Listening to his smug tone, I gave a cold laugh. He didn't know. Over the past three years, I had already married the Mafia godfather to whom he had sworn unwavering loyalty. And now, he had to kneel on the ground and call me Donna.

My little sister was murdered by her kidnappers. I watched it all happen and never said a word about who did it. My mother got on her knees and begged me. I didn't flinch. When my father threatened me with his authority as the Don, I walked away from my place as the Family heir. I moved to a small town down south. Eight years later, I was dying of a terminal illness, and my older sister, Beth Turner, had taken over the Family. Under her, the Turners had become the most powerful mafia family on the East Coast. The first thing she did when she found me was have me dragged back to the Family's tribunal. "Selena Turner, you ungrateful snake. Mia called you her sister for all those years, and you still won't name the kidnapper. "Mia's been dead for years. Don't you feel any guilt at all?!" I was on my knees in the great hall. I couldn't speak. "After all these years, I can finally extract your memories. Today, I'm going to see exactly who you've been protecting. I will avenge Mia." She ordered her men to restrain me and hook up the extractor. On the screen above the banquet hall, a face suddenly appeared. The room erupted into chaos, and Beth's face went deathly pale.