Love after Marriage Mafia Short Stories & Novels

My life was a living hell after my mother died. My father was the Don of the Rossi family, but you wouldn't know it from the way I lived. My stepsister and stepmother treated me like a maid. When the family faced a crisis, they didn't hesitate to sell me off to Caspian, the heir to the Valerius family, for their own gain. The word on the street was that Caspian was a monster—a butcher with a face torn apart by scars. I refused, but my father threatened me with my mother's keepsakes, forcing me to sign a three-year marriage contract. On our wedding day, Caspian didn't even look at me. He slid the ring on my finger, his touch like ice. "Remember," he said, "you're my wife in name only. Don't expect anything more." I wasn't hurt. That was what I wanted, too. I thought we'd spend three years as strangers, and then I'd be free. But I never expected the day he'd look at me with those possessive eyes, kiss me hard, and declare, "You're mine. My wife. Forever." And damn it, my heart actually skipped a beat.

For five years, I'd poured every resource my family had into making my fiancé, Julian Vane, a star. Now he was slipping the wedding gown of the century, the one supposedly made to my measurements, onto my best friend, Mia Shaw. The gown that had been digging into my ribs fit Mia perfectly. He looked at me with disgust. "Chloe, you don't deserve my designs." Meanwhile, my family was facing bankruptcy and liquidation. Julian was waiting for me to crawl back and beg him like a kicked dog. Instead, I knocked on the door of Killian Valentine, the most ruthless tyrant on Wall Street. He'd been my family's sworn enemy for ten years. "You hold the Winslow debt. Name your price. What do you want in exchange for leaving my family alone?" "I want you. Take off those dirty clothes and be my wife."

To test his loyalty, my stepsister, Wendy Lidell, drugged my childhood friend. Then, she shoved me into his room. Unable to watch Connor Gordon suffer, I willingly helped him through the night. In a fit of pique, Wendy ran off and married a cruel mafia don. I got pregnant, and Connor was forced to marry me. At that point, he started to despise me. During the ten long years of marriage, he treated me and our son coldly. But during a flood overseas, he sacrificed his life to get me and our son back on solid land. I failed to keep my grip on him. As he sank into the depths, he looked at me and said, “If we could redo everything, make sure you don’t help me that night.” Those words stung me greatly, and I fainted right away. When I next opened my eyes, I found that I had gone back in time. I had traveled back to the night when Wendy had drugged Connor and locked me in his room.

To prove himself worthy of marrying me, Nico Ricci volunteered to take over the most profitable drug trafficking route out of Mexico. Before he left, he slipped a ring on my finger. "When I get back, we'll get married." I waited three years for him. The next time I saw him, he was holding hands with a timid woman as he asked me to end our engagement. "Leah took a bullet for me. I owe her my life. I promised her I'd marry her if we made it back to New York alive." My father, Lorenzo Moretti, handed me a pistol, his face dark with anger. "Camila, he's your man. You deal with him." I took the gun and stepped forward. With one swift motion, I racked the slide. Click. Everyone in the Moretti family was waiting for me to paint the floor with the traitor's blood. Bang! I fired several shots into the air. Hot shell casings clattered to the floor around their feet. The hall fell silent. Nico stood rigid, his grip tight around Leah Cruz's hand. I pulled off the ring and dropped it on the floor among the spent casings. "We're even." Then, in front of everyone, I called Dante Vitale, the Don of the Vitale family and the Morettis' worst enemy. "About that proposal of yours? My answer is yes."

The night before the bride-selection ceremony, my best friend was having sex with my childhood friend in the most sacred underground chapel. "You're getting married tomorrow... and I'm just a stray from the slums. How could I ever be worthy of you?" Chloe said, her voice thick with tears. Victor Moretti pulled her closer into his arms. "Isn't what we're doing here proof enough of how I feel? Relax. I've already rigged tomorrow's draw. God will choose you, and only you." "But will your family accept me? Everyone knows Elia is your fiancee. Tomorrow's ceremony is just a formality..." "A formality?" He scoffed. "She doesn't even deserve the effort of me going through the motions. My wife is whoever I say she is." I stood behind the door, my nails digging deep into my palms until the sharp sting kept me alert. I used to think we were each other's rock. But from the beginning, I had been the only one who felt that way. Victor, if tomorrow's ceremony is nothing but a show you can rig however you please, I'm done playing my part. Seven days later, I walked toward the wedding car in my gown. Victor charged toward me like a man possessed, clinging to the car door as he screamed, "Elia, don't marry him! I love you..." I slapped him hard across the face and enunciated every word. "From now on, call me Aunt Elia."

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.

I’m Daisy Valence. Eighteen. The favorite daughter of the Valence family. I woke up and found myself eight years in the future. Not only was I married to my nemesis, Lorenzo Astor, but we had a four-year-old son. Even crazier, the future me was a stone-cold snake, plotting to gut Lorenzo's operation while planning to run off with her "lover" after the divorce. And this "lover"? Just some nobody from the slums I was bankrolling. I must have lost my mind. Just as I was about to cut ties with all of them and get my free, single life back... I found the love letters Lorenzo wrote me, a secret stash of things I’d used, and a phone filled with my pictures… Then he grabbed me, his eyes bloodshot, and held me so tight I could barely breathe. He growled, "Who the hell gave you permission to leave me?" "I never agreed to any divorce, my wife."

It was only on our first wedding anniversary that I realized the rubbers I bought before our wedding had long expired. No one would believe that my mafia husband, Andre Garcia, and I had never consummated our marriage. That night, I gathered my courage and bought a suggestive nightgown. After downing three glasses of whisky, I hugged Andre tightly and whispered in his ear, "Darling, let's do it today. I want you..." However, Andre shook my hand off indifferently as if he were handling a gun. "Danielle Lawson, do you have no shame? You've done such shameless things time and time again. If you're really that lonely, I'll order you some toys so you can play with them to your heart's content." My face turned deathly pale as I stood there, stunned. I could not understand why a wife begging for her husband's affection was considered 'shameless' behavior. I curled up on the couch, unable to help but ask on social media. Danielle: [My husband has no dysfunction. Why won't he touch me after marriage?] Someone replied: [Perhaps your husband has someone else.] Like a dagger, that comment pierced me awake. I suddenly realized—maybe the problem was not that I was unattractive but rather that he was never mine. The moment I deleted my account, I also made the decision to leave. Who could have imagined that Andre, who would usually not even glance at me, would frantically search for me after I disappeared? "Danielle, I can't get a hard-on after you left!"

During my wedding, hundreds of photos of me being sullied flutter down from the top of the church, landing before the guests below. My fiancé instantly calls off our engagement and turns to kiss my sister. Devastation washes over me. Just then, my childhood friend Derek Church, the Capo of the Church family, the East Coast's most powerful mafia family, pulls me into his arms. He kicks the church's door open and presses a check worth a million dollars into my father's hands. He pulls me to the priest and has him announce that we are husband and wife. I'm so touched that I agree to marry him. From then on, I become the Capo's wife. Two years later, Derek and I finally conceive through IVF. I want to share the exciting news with him when I overhear his conversation with his subordinate. "Lilyanne is afraid of pain and becoming ugly, so we can use Nicole to give birth to her child. Once she produces an heir for the Morse family, her position will be solidified. Then, the Morse family will become the Church family's MadeMan." "As expected of you, boss. You knew the Morse family is full of politicians who would never accept a sullied woman into the family. The only way for Lilyanne to marry into the family was by having Nicole sullied." My blood runs cold when I hear this, and the pregnancy report in my hand feels unbelievably heavy. The man I thought was my salvation was actually the devil who pulled me into the abyss. I dry my tears and call the Capo of the West Coast's mafia family, Derek's nemesis. "I have a way to help you become the mafia Capo dei capi. Do you want to work with me?"