قصص وروايات قصيرة من فئة Mafia وتضم Independence وتدور في Regret

My marriage to Dante Moretti shocked everyone. I’ve got a fiery temper and I don’t back down. Three years into our marriage, the entire Chicago underworld knew we were at each other's throats. Except in bed. There, our bodies just fit. The only time we weren't at war was when we were tangled in the sheets, lost in a storm of desperate kisses and raw pleasure. Countless times, he’d tell me he was obsessed with my body, always right as he was sinking into me. I thought it was his way of saying he was falling for me. That all came crashing down at an auction, when he snatched my mother's heirloom from me, only to give it to her—a fragile-looking girl named Ava. That’s when he showed me a cruelty I’d never seen. "It's time for a reality check, Elara," he’d said, his voice cold as ice. "Marrying you, fucking you… it was all just to keep the peace between our families. Ava is the one I want to protect." But the day I finally left Chicago, the day I announced our divorce to the world… That cold, calculating Mafia Don hunted for me like a man possessed.

Ten years with Don Maximus. I went from the crazy girl who demanded his "undying loyalty" at gunpoint to Chicago's perfect Donna. When Maximus took the casino's hottest stripper to his private room, I didn't lose my mind. Instead, I tossed the woman the keys to a Manhattan penthouse. When Maximus's new flame threw a tantrum at a yacht party, I didn't bat an eye. Instead, after she slapped a waiter in a fit of pique, I made the police problem go away. When Maximus fought with one of his girls, I'd even send her a limited-edition Birkin to smooth things over. And today, Maximus is busy fucking his hot new toy in the study, while another pregnant mistress stands on the estate's rooftop, threatening to jump just to see him. And I'm still the one in my red-bottom heels, calmly going to clean up his mess. The mistress screamed, desperate. "I'm not having this baby! Get Maximus!" I took a sip of my wine, my voice bored. "He's busy today. You have the baby, and I'll make sure seven figures show up in your offshore account." My indifference set her off. She grabbed my wrist, her grip like iron. "You're pathetic, Angelina! There was a time he wouldn't even look at another woman because of you. He slaughtered an entire family for you. When you were shot, he knelt in the pouring rain outside a church, begging God to take his life for yours! But now? You can't even get into his bed. All you can do is stand here and play the gracious Donna!" Her nails left red marks on my skin, but the smile on my face didn't crack. Did she really think a little drama would change anything? I wasn't playing the gracious Donna. I was just done. And I was finally ready to let Maximus go.

I was Don Victor’s secret wife for five years, hidden away like a dirty little secret. He made me a promise. Give him an heir, and he’d show me to the world. I’d be the Donna everyone envied. But there was a catch. A lie. His doctor told me I was barren. Victor held me while I sobbed, kissing my face. "Baby, we can still do IVF. I want a child from you. Only you." So I took the pain. Five years. 999 needles. I was finally pregnant on Christmas Day. I ran to his office to share the news, only to find him buried deep inside another woman. Julia. A Mafia princess from another family. The betrayal hit me. I turned to leave, tears in my eyes, but then I heard a truth I couldn't escape. "Don't you worry, my princess. The baby in Maria's belly? It's ours. Your egg, my sperm. She’s just the perfect vessel." My hand trembled. I backed away, silent. Then I made a call. A lawyer. "I don't care what it costs. I want a divorce from Don Victor."

The day my mafia husband, Vincent Colletti, chose his subordinate Serena Vega and her daughter Daisy over us yet again, I began teaching our daughter not to expect anything from him. One stormy night, our daughter was too scared to sleep. Vincent hesitated, then went to comfort Daisy instead. I took a storybook and a stuffed animal to Eve's room and sat on the edge of her bed. "It's okay. Don Colletti has things to take care of. Mommy's here with you." Vincent bailed on the family trip Eve had been looking forward to for two weeks, all because Serena said Daisy wanted to go to an amusement park. I held Eve's hand as we boarded the plane. "Baby, Don Colletti isn't coming, but we're still going on our trip." Every time Vincent chose them over her, it took Eve a long time to get over it. It went on like that until Vincent finally woke up to how long he'd been neglecting us. He kissed Eve's cheek, eager to make it up to her. "Sorry, sweetheart. Next week, you'll have the grandest baptism ceremony the family has ever seen." But at the Blood Oath Baptism, the Colletti family's ceremony to formally acknowledge and protect a child, Vincent got a call from Serena. She sobbed into the phone. "Daisy's getting teased at school for not having a dad. Could you come pretend to be her dad?" Vincent barely hesitated. He turned to Eve with a coaxing, apologetic look. "Eve, Daddy has something urgent to take care of. I need to leave for a little while." Eve stood there. She didn't cry or make a fuss. Before he could even finish, she quietly nodded. "It's okay, Don Colletti. I have Mommy, and that's enough."

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.

The night Luca Caruso became the most powerful Don, he slid a diamond ring onto my finger in front of the heads of the five major mafia families. "You'll be my only wife, Elena. No woman will ever take your place." I believed every word. I was the daughter of his strongest ally, and the woman who'd helped make him Don. For six years, I stood beside him through gunfights, betrayals, and assassination attempts. I even lost our first baby. The whole underworld envied me. They said Luca was cold to the rest of the world, but he would always give in to his wife. That lasted until the day before Luca's birthday, when I slipped away to Tuscany to surprise him. At the villa, I found Luca. He was supposed to be in a meeting with the heads of the other families. Instead, he was celebrating his birthday with another woman and a little boy. The woman was holding the cake, gazing tenderly at father and son. "Luca, what if Elena finds out? Is she going to make a scene?" Luca kissed her forehead. He sounded completely sure of himself. "She won't. Elena loves me. She'll put up with this for me." His next words crushed the last hope I had. "Besides, old man Moretti has known for ages. He'll keep his daughter in line. He needs his alliance with me too much." The woman leaned against his shoulder, her voice soft. "So who do you love more, Luca?" Luca didn't even hesitate. "When I put the wedding ring on Elena's finger, all I could think about was you."

I had been in love with Leo, the Don of a Mafia family. For seven years, I was there with him through the darkest nights, cleaned up after him more times than I could count, and convinced myself that he would give me the ending I deserved. When word got back to me that Leo was planning a proposal, I could barely contain the tremble in my fingers. However, the woman he was proposing to wasn’t me. My eyes burned, and my voice was barely a whisper. “Why?” Leo pulled me into his arms in assurance, his chest warm against my skin, but the words coming out of his mouth were anything but. “Nina has cancer. Her only wish is to know what it’s like to be proposed to. I couldn’t say no to her. “This is the one thing I can do for her.” As Leo slipped the ring onto Nina’s finger, his expression earnest, the past seven years I’d spent loving him felt like a joke. Nina got her happy ending. All I got was a rude awakening. Now that the dream was over, it was time for me to walk away.

The Mad Donna He Never Really Married For three years, I was Donna of the rising Valenti family. One day, Enzo was holding a meeting at a private cigar club. I worried about his stomach issues, so I went to bring him his usual antacids. Standing outside the private room, I heard his men laughing. “Don Enzo, are you really going to keep Clara hidden away at the Silver Lake villa forever?” “That mad Moretti heiress in the main house is still parading around as Donna of the Valenti family.” Enzo rubbed the bridge of his nose and scoffed. “If she hadn’t taken a bullet to the head for me and gone insane, and if I hadn’t desperately needed her family’s capital, I never would have married a woman with no blood ties to the life.” “But Clara is my legal wife. The family trust, the marriage certificate at City Hall, it’s all in her name.” “Stella’s just a plaything I keep at the main house. Once Clara gives birth to an heir, I’ll bring her home for good.” My knuckles turned white as I squeezed the small box of medicine, the cardboard crumpling in my hand. He had exchanged blood oaths and rings with me in the church, yet it was Clara who had signed the papers at City Hall. He played me for a fool, all to keep Clara’s reputation clean. Clutching the box, I turned and melted back into the shadows. He had no idea my sanity had returned three days ago. He would never guess I had already sent an encrypted message to my brother, who runs a business empire from our home in Solaria, far across the sea. I was done with this goddamn Valenti title.

The first thing I did when I came back to life was to pawn off my engagement to the Don of the Schroder family, Edmund, on my stepsister. In my last life, he used the "family rules" to make me give up the one thing I loved—racing. He threw out all my colorful dresses and turned me into his canary in a gilded cage. I died, suffocated and hopeless. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day the marriage contract was to be signed. I quietly switched my name with my stepsister Laura's and let Edmund sign the papers. He didn't forget to warn me, "Stay out of trouble. Our wedding is in three days. Be a good girl and wait for me to come get you." But he had no idea I'd already bought a fake ID and passport. In three days, I'd be gone. I'd be free.

One week before our engagement ceremony, fiancé took me and his foster sister to their hundredth dinner together. The maitre d' knew their table, their wine, and Serena's favorite meal. She sat beside the fireplace while I was squeezed into a chair in the aisle. Then the restaurant presented them with a silver decanter engraved: D & S. Always at the same table. The date beneath it was my birthday three years ago—the night Damian had abandoned me at a clinic because of an "emergency." He had spent those two hours here with her. Serena smiled. "After you and Evelyn get engaged, are we still keeping our monthly dinners?" "Of course," Damian said. "You're my family. If Evelyn can't accept that, she isn't fit to become a Moretti." For four years, I had fought Serena for every place in Damian's life. I fought for the seat beside him, for the bedroom meant to be ours, and for the right to be chosen whenever we both needed him. Every time, he told me to stop keeping score. That night, I finally understood how foolish I had been to abandon my own future for a love that never chose me first. So this time, I chose myself. I accepted Saint Clair Design Group's offer to become its Global Creative Director and youngest equity partner, then booked a flight to Milan for the morning of our engagement. Damian thought my silence meant I had finally accepted Serena's place in our marriage. He didn't realize I had stopped fighting because I no longer wanted a place in his life. He and Serena could keep their fifteen years of brother-and-sister devotion. In seven days, my love for him would be over.

My husband, Vincent Moretti, had a nightmare. In the dream, he'd had a one-night stand at a hotel with a young woman who had a tragic past and no family. When I found out he'd cheated, I tricked him into signing divorce papers and faked my death to escape. Then I vanished from his life for good. After that dream, the Don whose word had once been law in New York became a different man. Every time he went out, he sent me three location updates. Even a warehouse inspection meant getting on a video call with me to prove there were no women around. I laughed and told him he was overreacting. Then, at our third-anniversary dinner, I went into shock after eating the dessert a server had brought me. When I opened my eyes, Lia Romano, the nun Vincent had once rescued, was standing beside my hospital bed. "I'm sorry, Eve. I didn't mean to..." Everyone there thought she was finished. A maid had once left a jar of hazelnut spread on the dining table. The next day, he'd had her thrown into the sea to feed the sharks. This time, he only frowned. "Eve, she didn't mean any harm." "I almost died from that allergy! Vincent! Get her out of my sight!" He was quiet for a long time. Finally, he nodded. That night, I got a text from an unknown number. "Tonight. The Queen's Hotel." "Sweetheart, will you join me for the fireworks? Let me make it up to you." My friends teased me, saying he spoiled me like a princess. I forgot all about that ridiculous dream. Until I opened the hotel room door and saw something I couldn't believe. Lia, who was supposed to have been driven out of New York, was kissing my husband. And he was kissing her back.

The day I found out I was pregnant, my fiancé, Grant Hale, told me he was going to marry another woman. His childhood sweetheart, Chloe Bennett, had gotten pregnant unexpectedly, and he said he couldn't let her family throw her out over a baby no one would claim. I stared at him in disbelief. "I'm pregnant too. If you marry her, what happens to our baby?" He frowned. "Serena, don't start acting out now. You've always been strong. Even if you really are pregnant, you can wait a few months. Once Chloe has the baby, I'll give you the wedding you deserve." He thought I'd wait for him like a good girl. What he didn't know was that I'd hidden my identity as the heiress to one of the most powerful mafia families in the country just to be with him. Now the three-year deadline I'd agreed on with my father had run out. Very soon, I'd be leaving Grant forever.

For as long as I could remember, I knew my mother, Isabella, hated me. She once threw me into the basement, leaving me to rot in the dark or crawl out on my own. But I was hard to kill. Even after nine days of starvation, I still clawed at the bottom of the door until all ten of my fingers were bloody. At seven, I taught myself how to fight back against her. When she locked me out, I shattered the champagne tower at a family dinner. If I couldn't be happy, no one could. When she had her guards pin me to the ground to teach me a lesson, I secretly locked her precious son, Leo, in the attic. I listened to him cry until his voice went hoarse. I stubbornly fought against her like this until I was twelve. Until they brought my newborn sister, Rosie, home. I stood by the crib, clumsily changing the soiled cashmere blanket for the tiny pink bundle. Isabella barged in and slammed me hard against the wall. Behind the disgust in her eyes was fear. "What are you trying to do to my daughter?" "I knew it! You're the spawn of that Barone bastard. You're up to no good!" "Why don't you just die and do this family a favor!" In that moment, I finally understood. Clutching the back of my bleeding head, for the first time, I didn't fight back. It was also the first time I actually agreed with her. My birth, from start to finish, was a dirty mistake. I really did deserve to die.

My fiancé’s childhood sweetheart had been diagnosed with a terminal illness and only had a month left to live. Even though I disagreed, he still temporarily left me to accompany her in completing her bucket list of a hundred wishes. Three days before our engagement, I held the pregnancy test in my hand, wanting to tell him he was going to be a father. Instead, his childhood sweetheart posted a photo on her social media: “Thanks to Leo for spoiling me. I have no more regrets in this life.” In the picture, Leonardo was personally slipping a ring onto her finger. That ruby ring was a dying keepsake my mother had left me, and a priceless family heirloom. Before he left, he said he wanted to take it to the snowy mountains to pray for blessings on our marriage. I commented on her post: “Wishing you both a happy marriage.” Leonardo called me almost immediately: “Elena, don’t provoke Liliana.” “You will be my Donna. We have the rest of our lives. She doesn’t have much time left.” I smiled and told him it was fine. Because I had finally come to my senses: our lifetime would always be tainted by Liliana’s presence. If that was the case, neither I nor our child wanted him anymore. After getting my ring back, I was going to leave this place.

When I walked out of the hospital clutching the miscarriage report, dazed and hollow, my husband Enzo called. "Feeling any better? I'll send a car for you. Corinne, you know that as my Donna, you have to follow the family rules. I can't bend them just because of your old stomach issues." "And don't blame Elara. She was only doing what she was told." I answered flatly, "Okay." He laughed. "That's my good girl." What Enzo didn't know was that it wasn't just a stomachache. I'd lost the baby. Three hours earlier, when the pain had become unbearable and I tried to leave, Elara had stopped me: "Ten more minutes, Corinne. You shouldn't put Enzo in a difficult position over something so trivial." Enzo. She was always bringing up Enzo in front of me. But the moment I learned I'd lost my child, I no longer wanted to be his obedient Mrs. Moretti. In ten days, I would vanish from his world completely.

The entire New York mafia world knows that Don Alessandro of the Rossi family takes a brutal punishment from the Council every year just to marry me. Because the Rossi family has a strict rule: all marriages must be approved by the Council. Yet, for three years in a row, Alessandro submitted our marriage application, and every time, it was rejected! The first year, he was locked in solitary confinement for three days and nights. The second year, his back was whipped raw. The third year, he even knelt in a torrential downpour to beg for their mercy. I always thought it was my fault, that I just wasn’t good enough to meet the Council's standards. It wasn't until the fourth year that I found out all those rejection letters from the Council were forged by Alessandro himself. And the reason was Mia—his secretary who had been secretly obsessed with him for years. "Mia has been by my side for eight years. She took a bullet for me. She held me and cried, saying the day I get married would be the darkest day of her life." "I love Jane, but I just can't bear to hurt Mia." "It just means marrying Jane a little later. She loves me so much, she won't mind." But he was wrong. Even though my heart was breaking, I didn't want this kind of love anymore. I called my father: "Dad, I'm ready to come back to Italy and marry the Don of the Caruso family."

Three months since my husband, Julian Moretti, disappeared. I walked into his favorite den, the grief so deep it stole the air from my lungs. I just wanted to breathe him in, to find any trace of him that was left. Then I heard it. A familiar laugh. And the soft moan of a woman. Through a crack in the door, I saw him. My husband, the man "missing" for three months, had his hand tangled in another woman's hair. "Baby, just a little longer," he said. "Soon as I siphon enough cash from the family's books, we're gone. You and me." In his arms was Bianca, from the Rosso family. "What about your wife?" she purred. "Let her play the grieving widow. She's nothing without me anyway." My fists clenched. The world went quiet, my blood turning to ice. The next day, I put the word out to the entire Family. "I'm holding a memorial mass for my husband." At the service, he stormed in, a ghost returned from the grave, roaring that he was alive and there to take back what was his. But I was standing next to his uncle, Dante Moretti, and all I did was stare him down. "Then explain," I said, my voice cutting through the silence. "Explain the woman. Explain the money. Explain your betrayal... to the Family. And to me."

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.

There's an unwritten rule in the Chicago Outfit. The Don never keeps a mistress for more than a hundred days. When the hundred days are up, the women he’s finished with always take the money and leave quietly. Once, someone asked him, unwilling to accept it: “Why?” Santino Falcone smiled softly.“Because I love my wife.” Everyone knew that his wife of seven years was his weak spot. But this new mistress wouldn’t behave.Emboldened by his favor, she sent me a taunting text message. “Arabella, isn’t your husband cute when he’s asleep in my arms?I’ve got plenty more photos. I can send them to you if you want.” “I’m his one true love. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll step down and give me your place as his wife.” I didn’t argue with her.Instead, I generously gave her my wedding ring. Because what she didn't know was that I had gotten my memory back. I was never the orphan Santino saved. I am the long-lost princess of New York’s most powerful family, missing for seven years. In three days, my brother Matteo’s armored motorcade will arrive in Chicago to take me home.

The day of the gang shootout, while I was cleaning up the mess, I realized our marriage certificate was missing. My husband Victor Rosso tried to comfort me. Said the whole family only recognized me as their Donna. No need to bother replacing it. I mulled it over for a few days, then still brought my ID to city hall to get a duplicate. The clerk tapped at her keyboard for a minute, then looked up at me. "Ma'am, your marital status shows as single." I froze. Then I wrote down Victor's name and mine again and handed it back to her. She checked once more. Her expression turned strange. "The system says you're single, but your husband is listed as married..." She paused. "The spouse's name is Anna Martin. Do you know her?" My mind went blank. Victor and I were each other's first love. He'd always treated me like I was the moon, the stars, everything. And Anna—my sister, his savior, the woman he personally shipped off to Milan because she wouldn't stop chasing him. Turns out, while he was calling her reckless to my face, he'd already given her his legal name on paper. I pulled out my phone and called my mentor. "Mentor, I need to get back to my jewelry studio. What's the soonest you can get me in?" "Flora. Three days. Just give me three days."