Plot Twists Mafia の短編小説 &IndependenceFamily Emotions小説

I was seven the first time I pulled a trigger. From 550 yards away, I killed a pirate who was hijacking a shipment. I grew up by the water, and two families claimed me as their daughter. The first was the Salvatore family. Their fake heiress wanted me to take the fall for her on a trafficking charge. I put her in federal prison instead. Life without parole. The second was the Vasiliev family. Their fake heiress got on her knees and swore she wouldn't compete with me. Then she paid someone to kill me. I sent her and the money to the bottom of the harbor. It took a third DNA test for anyone to realize I was the biological daughter of the Macchetti family. The old crime family that controlled a sixth of the East Coast. On my first day back at the estate, Chiara knelt in front of me and pressed a gun to her own temple. "I'm sorry. I've spent all these years in your place. If I'm in your way, I can die right now." My mother's knees buckled. She lunged forward and pulled Chiara into her arms. My brother pointed at me. "Chiara has a serious heart condition. You've been back one day, and you already want her dead?" Even Lorenzo Falcone, the fiancé I was meeting for the first time, spoke up. "If a single hair on her head is harmed, I'm calling off the engagement tomorrow." I walked over, took the gun out of her hand, ejected the magazine, and checked the chamber. It was empty. I crouched down and put it back in her hand. "Next time you fake a suicide attempt, don't forget to load it. "After all... "An unloaded gun is a toy."

Don Ettore Vitale's lover, Viola Serra, and I are abducted at the same time. When it's time for Ettore to make his choice, he doesn't hesitate to choose Viola despite always doting on me all the time. "Larissa, Viola can't take this. She's too fragile. Once this is over, I'll definitely make it up to you." "If you choose her, I'll hate you forever!" He remains silent for a moment before whisking Viola away in his arms. I just keep laughing till tears spill down my cheeks. Some time later, I nestle into Ettore's arch-nemesis, Vittorio Romano's arms while smiling at the former. But he keeps begging me to return to him like an absolute lunatic.

As the Vitano princess, I was promised early on in an arranged marriage to the Rosso Family. But when the time came to exchange our families' tokens, I was bedridden with a high fever and had to ask my younger sister, Rosa, to deliver mine in my place. The Rosso heir, Adrian Rosso, took a liking to her and insisted she be the bride instead. Just six months after the wedding, her husband beat her to death in a drunken rage. My father and my brother decided it was my fault Rosa died. They stopped speaking to me and treated me like I didn't exist. Then, during an arms deal at the port, we were ambushed. My father stayed behind to cover our retreat and took two bullets meant for me. My brother used every last ounce of his strength to shove me into the helicopter. I reached for him, but there was no room left on board. "Valentina, if we could do this all over again, I'm begging you, don't let Rosa go in your place." He let go and vanished into the fire. When I opened my eyes again, it was the day my family had sat down to discuss the arranged marriage. My brother, who had always spoiled Rosa beyond reason, did something completely out of character. He shut her down the moment she volunteered for the marriage. He had been reborn too. This time around, we were both going to make up for the regrets of our past lives.

For my grandmother's birthday, I took her downtown to Carlucci Jewelers, the finest jewelry store in the city, to pick up the emerald necklace we had ordered. The saleswoman had barely set it out when a woman dripping with jewelry snatched it off the counter. "They're letting slum rats into the VIP room now? I want that necklace. Throw them out!" For my grandmother's sake, I forced myself to keep my temper. "We already paid the deposit on that necklace. Please put it down." The woman gave me a contemptuous look and tossed it back onto the table. "So what if you paid a deposit? This store doesn't sell custom jewelry to gutter trash who can't even afford Hermès!" I'd been away for six months, and apparently one of my family's businesses had a new policy. I asked the saleswoman beside me about it, but she looked terrified and didn't dare say a word. The woman admired her nails, pleased with herself. "Let me make this clear. Luca, the man behind this store, is my husband! "In here, what I say is Sicilian law!" My grandmother and I both froze, then looked at each other. When did my cousin get engaged? And when had he handed the family's money-laundering operation over to a woman like this? I'd entrusted it to him. My grandmother gave a cold laugh and slowly turned the crucifix over in her fingers. "If Luca can't keep his own woman in line, we'll put someone else in charge."

After I discovered that my Mafia husband, Don Dante Amato, still couldn't let go of his first love, Bianca, and the son she had with another man, I taught our son to call him "Don Amato." When our son came down with a fever, Bianca called my husband away in the middle of the night. I stroked his burning forehead and taught him to say, "Goodbye, Don Amato." Dante had promised to present our son to the whole Amato Family at a family dinner — to formally announce him as the future heir. Yet on the night of the dinner, Bianca called, crying that her own son had no father by his side. Dante left without a second thought. I didn't argue. I just had our son stand in front of the entire Family and explain, "Don Amato has someone more important to take care of." It wasn't until Dante finally realized how disappointed we were in him that he suggested we take a family portrait together. Outside the photo studio, Bianca called again, crying for Dante's help. "Dante, the kids at daycare are making fun of Gabe for not having a dad. Can you come pick him up and pretend to be his father?" Dante looked conflicted. He turned to our son, as if about to explain everything. But this time, our son didn't need my reminder. He waved Dante off. "It's okay, Don Amato. Go take care of the other child. Mom and I will manage the family photo just fine."

This was my eighth life. In the first seven, I died horribly because nobody ever noticed me. Every time, I screamed for help at the top of my lungs. No one ever heard me. So this time, I decided to stop fighting and just wait to die. When I was six, people from a rival family kidnapped me and stuffed me into the trunk of a car. I got comfortable and fell asleep. When the kidnappers opened the trunk, they thought I'd suffocated. They panicked, dumped me by the side of the road, and ran. A cop found me on an old mattress at the dump. I waved him off. "Don't bother with an ambulance. Just call a hearse. And hurry." At 17, my birth parents found me. On the way to the Carlisle estate, I climbed into the trunk like a pro. My mother, Isabella Carlisle, pulled me out, heartbroken. "You poor thing. What have you been through all these years?" "It's fine, Mother. I'm going to die sooner or later anyway." My father, Vincent Carlisle, slammed his hand on the steering wheel. "Stop talking nonsense! You're a Carlisle princess. Nobody would dare hurt you!" But the second we got home, Gianna Carlisle, the girl they'd raised as their own, pretended to slip and came flying at me.

In New York's Cosa Nostra, girls were lining up to marry Matteo Rinaldi. The Don’s heir. My sister, Stella, and I both attended the selection gala. Stella was the favorite. The future Donna. But she wasn't chosen. The family swarmed her. Comforting her. I stood in the corner with the diamond ring in my hand. The one from Matteo. I wanted to tell them. He chose me. But the words wouldn't come out. Because a nightmare had just flashed through my mind. A vision of my future. In that vision, I told them everything that Matteo picked me. Stella, humiliated, bought a ticket to Europe the next day. I married Matteo. But my family wasn't happy for me. They saw me in my wedding dress at the church. Their first words: "If you hadn't stolen Matteo, Stella would still be here. She wouldn't be suffering in Europe." Later, Stella met Nolan in Europe. The Pakhan of the Russian Bratva. The Rinaldi family's mortal enemy. My parents used me. They spied on the Rinaldis, feeding intel to Stella to help her marry Nolan. Matteo found out. He called me a traitor. Threw me in a dungeon. Ruined my face. I finally escaped. I begged my parents to save me. But they were gone. They had a new life in Russia. That's when I knew they never loved me. And now, I clutched the ring in my hand. A bitter taste in my mouth. I'll give the ring back. I’m not marrying into the Rinaldi family. If they never loved me, then I’m gone for good.

My mom passed away when I was twelve, leaving everything she had to me. My dad cried at her bedside, swearing he'd never remarry and that he'd take care of me no matter what. But six months later, my stepmother moved into the villa my mom had left me, with her daughter. She told me, "I'll love you like you're my own." It didn't take long before my room, my clothes, everything, was taken over by her daughter. I got shipped off to a boarding school and was only allowed home on weekends. That went on for four years. After my father had been away on business for months, her abuse only got worse. She even tried to make me take the fall for her daughter. When I refused, she locked me in the basement and left me there to die. I fought with everything I had, found the old phone my mom had left behind, and called my grandfather. On the other end of the line, his voice was pure fury: "No one messes with a granddaughter of the Moretti family!"

In my last life, right after I found out I was pregnant, a fire broke out in the mansion where I lived. My husband, Don Austin Marchetti, took most of the Family up into the mountains that night to search for his missing childhood friend instead. My calls for help went straight to voicemail. All I could do was watch the fire spread and swallow the entire house. He wept regretfully over what was left of me. After I died, he still went on to marry her. On their wedding day, guilt finally caught up with him, and he took his own life. His last words were that if he ever got the chance to live again, he'd choose me without hesitation. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the fire. And I found him leading everyone up into the mountains to search for her before the flames had even started. This time, I wasn't waiting around for him to save me. I was saving myself.

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?"

The Moretti family had always prided itself on "absolute fairness." Because my older brother and sister—both candidates for Don—would go at each other's throats the second Father tilted even a little more power toward one of them. So Father split everything evenly in two. Every territory, every servant, every last racket. One half for my brother. One half for my sister. When I was little, I once asked: "What about mine?" His face went dark. He snapped at me: "Isn't it enough that your brother and sister are already bleeding each other dry over power? Can you stop adding to the damn mess?" Years later, it was the annual family council. The ceremony where the heirs present themselves and get evaluated by Father. With every member of the family watching, Father placed identical tokens into my brother's and sister's hands. Two custom rings set with emeralds, each engraved with their names on the inner band. And me? I was shoved into a corner, standing awkwardly under the light. Father's gaze swept the room. It never once landed on me. Some family members noticed me. Their quiet snickers reached my brother's ears. He turned to look at me, his eyes dripping with disgust. My sister rolled her eyes and said with a cold smirk: "We agreed on absolute fairness, didn't we? So this token of power cannot be touched by any third party." Father glanced irritably at me, my face crumpled with hurt. "What. Do you have something to say?" I swallowed the pain, forced a small smile, and said: "No, Father. I'll take my leave." Once outside, I dialed Ella's number. She was my best friend from childhood—and now the most sought-after young director in all of Europe. "Ella, it's been a while. That thing you mentioned last time—about coming to work with you—is it still on the table?" "Of course, Lily. You're always welcome here." If the fairness that's been missing for twenty years isn't coming, then I don't need to stay in this family any longer.

After my little sister Sophia and I came of age, Father gave us two choices. Go to the front lines with his most trusted lieutenant and fight in the shootouts. Or go to the coast and marry into the local arms-dealing dynasty. In my last life, Sophia cried and kicked and screamed to go to the seaside. I put down the paintbrush I loved and took the gun the lieutenant handed me. In the end, I carved out a name for myself on the front lines, took back every inch of territory the family had lost, and became the successor the council of elders unanimously acknowledged. Sophia, meanwhile, was ignored by her husband, frozen out and neglected by his entire family, and died of depression. After being reborn, Sophia couldn't wait to plant herself beside Father's lieutenant, Lorenzo. "Catherine, the front lines are too dangerous. You go to the coast and live easily. I'll leave the good life for you." The lieutenant paused, then smiled with relief. I said nothing. I just told the housekeeper to pack my bags. I was ready to leave immediately. Sophia didn't know. In my last life, the reason all that lost territory was recovered, the reason that unruly lieutenant came to respect me completely, was because when we were surrounded, I refused to retreat. I cut a bloody path out with my bare hands. Reborn, with no endless artillery in my ears, I just wanted to chase my dream of art.

Ten years ago, for Dante Russo, I turned down the political marriage my Family had arranged for me and gave up my claim as its heir. Back then he was nothing but an illegitimate son with a price on his head, spat on by everyone. I paid for his surgery, fed him money and information, helped him take the docks and clear out his enemies, and pushed him step by step into the seat of the Don of New York. Then, the night before our wedding, he told me he had a mistress. "The wedding can go ahead as planned. You will still be my only wife." He laid out his terms calmly. "But you have to accept her." He assumed I had lost my Family's protection years ago, that I had no choice but to stay at his side. It was not until I left that he found out everything he owned had rested on me.

To prepare me for life in the Moretti underworld, my boyfriend, Adrian Moretti, had his childhood friend, Chloe Marino, arrange a robbery drill for me every month. At first, they only stole my phone. Then came a knife in a parking garage, followed by someone tailing me late at night. Once I even opened my eyes in the middle of the night to find a masked man sitting on the edge of my bed with a gun pressed to my forehead. Afterward, Adrian told me, "Evelyn, if this is enough to scare you, you're only going to hold me back." Today was the twelfth time. A bullet grazed my ear and buried itself in the wall. Blood ran down the side of my face. I fell to the ground while Chloe stood at the curb, laughing so hard she could barely hold her phone. She waved the phone at Adrian. "I told you she'd be scared witless this time!" "A year, and you haven't improved in the slightest!" Adrian's voice was thick with disappointment. But he didn't know that I began weapons training at six, and at thirteen I got myself out of a kidnapping alone. If I'd wanted, none of those men would have gotten anywhere near my bag. The Morettis had long wanted a marriage alliance with the Castillos, but I had no intention of marrying a man who coveted my family's power. That was why I changed my identity, hid my abilities, and sought Adrian out on my own. Later, I heard Adrian admit it himself. The fearful look on my face made Chloe laugh, so they organized one robbery drill after another. And so I had my father end the marriage arrangement with the Morettis.

Of the eight women who married into the Ferro family, I was the most useless. The other seven either ran casinos or controlled the docks. All I knew how to do was take the private jet to Paris and pick out jewelry. They talked family business. I only cared about Bulgari's latest high-jewelry collection. To them, I was just Simon Ferro's pretty, free-spending trophy wife, the woman he'd been crazy enough to marry. I didn't care. The family trust paid out every month, and my job was to sparkle. Until a mysterious consortium came after the Ferro family. The consortium put up three South African gold mines as collateral and drained the last of the family's legitimate cash. Everyone was scrambling, and the old Don went gray overnight. The powerful women in the family called in every connection they had, but they couldn't find a single clue about who was behind it. The man sat arrogantly in the seat of honor and demanded that my father-in-law hand over the family signet ring. I came downstairs with a drink in my hand and frowned. "Where'd this nouveau riche nobody come from? He's getting my couch dirty." Elena Ferro yanked me behind her. "Shut up and go back upstairs!" Simon instinctively pulled me into his arms to shield me. When it counted, the whole family closed ranks around me without a word. I reluctantly turned to go, only to catch sight of the antique panther brooch on the stranger's lapel. No way! A big shot with three gold mines, and his Cartier panther has cheap rhinestones for eyes?