Contos de Mafia com Mafia e Romances com Face Slapping

In my past life, I was the only daughter of the Gambino family in New York. I had power, wealth, respect. But I lost it all because of Lucas, my husband. He brought Isabella, the widow of his fallen brother, into our home without even asking me. I threw a fit, made a scene, and gave everyone exactly the story they wanted: the spoiled Gambino princess had finally gone mad. Lucas filed for divorce soon after. I did not beg him to stay. I was Leo Gambino's daughter. I would rather break my own teeth than plead with a man who had already chosen another woman. But pride did not save me. Soon after, our family fell apart. Enemies moved in, my father was killed, and I ended up starving on the streets of New York. Lucas, however, climbed to the top using our family's influence and became the new don of New York. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day Lucas first brought Isabella home.

During an argument with my fiancé, he lost his temper and slapped me across the face in front of the entire family and guests. That same day, I called off the engagement and blocked him on every last platform so that he could not reach me. No one could believe it. After all, we grew up together. Everyone knew I had been in love with him since we were kids, and we were supposed to get married right after college. He just stood there, looking lost. "Why, Gia? Over a slap?" I held his gaze. "Sì. Over a slap."

The night before our engagement, my best man Reese suggested we play Never Have I Ever — our version, where you name something you have that you think no one else does, and anyone who doesn't have it puts a finger down. "Sitting in this room is someone I can't have," he said. Everyone else's fingers went down, except Reese's and my fiancée Molly's. The others erupted in whistles and teasing, not caring that I was right there. "I have the most loyal fiancé," Molly said. "Boring and dull." Everyone glanced at me, and the private room fell into an awkward silence. I was suddenly exhausted. Molly and I had been together for two years. Tomorrow was our engagement party, yet she'd just publicly admitted there was someone she wanted but couldn't have. And in her eyes, the only redeeming quality her fiancé had was loyalty. When my turn came, I said calmly, "I have a grand wedding of the century." I turned to Molly beside me. "But as of now, it's canceled."

At the altar, right before we exchanged rings, my husband Julian stopped. "The heads of both families are here," he said. "Let's get this out in the open." A pause. "Seraphina Gallo... she's carrying my child. Three months" I stood there in my pure white, handmade gown. "What did you say?" He adjusted his cuff. So elegant. "The next heir to the Valenti family can't be a bastard." He looked at me with those blue eyes I used to drown in. "Don't worry. You'll still be my only woman. You just can't have the title of Donna. I'll sign over the Upper East Side penthouse. I'll take care of you." Take care of me? Ten years. An engagement ring. Now, a joke for the entire New York underworld. The antique Cartier cross my mother left me—our promise to each other—was still on his neck. I reached for it. He grabbed my wrist, frowning. "Alessia, don't make a scene. Don't embarrass your dying father." My father. Lying in a private suite, kept alive by a machine that cost a fortune. He'd mortgaged his life's work—his leather shop—for this wedding. Snickers from the guests. Julian's mother, matriarch of the Valenti family smirked. "Don't blame my Julian. A purse-maker's daughter marrying into a Cosa Nostra family? Pure fantasy." Through my tears, I saw a man leaning against the church doorframe. Caspian. Everyone knew him. The unkillable underground fighter from the docks. A plaything for the rich to bet on in their cages. He must have just come from a deathmatch—he smelled of motor oil and blood. He just stood there, watching this train wreck. The entire mob knew this beast. Came from the slums, no parents, lived in a leaky warehouse nobody dared go near. I ripped off my veil and pointed straight at him. "Julian Valenti, I'm not marrying you. I'm marrying him."

I gave up ten years of my life and went to prison to protect my sister, Jasmine. In return, she took my baby, claiming my one-night stand with the ruthless mafia king, Dominic Valentino, as her own. Now, she sits on a stolen throne, playing the perfect mafia wife. And I become my son's night nanny. Dominic is lethal, cold, and suspicious of everyone. He married Jasmine out of duty, yet he refuses to touch her. But the moment I step into his house, his eyes lock onto me. He doesn't know I'm the woman who saved his life in a bloody alley a year ago. He doesn't know the baby crying in the nursery is mine. All he knows is that the air burns whenever we are in the same room. My sister thinks I'm just a broken ex-con she can easily crush. She forgot one thing. I didn't just survive prison. I learned how to run an empire in the dark. And I am taking my son, my man, and my throne back.

At the annual mafia charity gala, my fiancé Vincent dropped three million dollars on the most coveted antique necklace in the room. Everyone looked at me with smiles and congratulations. My friend grabbed my arm, whispering, "Your patience finally paid off! All those years of kissing his feet weren't for nothing!" Then he turned around and handed the necklace straight to Bianca, the daughter of our rival family. I opened my mouth, ready to remind him that I was his fiancée. But Vincent just threw me a look of pure disgust. In front of everyone, he sneered that I was trash with zero class and couldn't handle a real crowd. Humiliated and crushed, I went onto the dark web and posted a fifty-dollar bounty for help. That was how I matched with Gabe—the feared, ruthless enforcer everyone talked about. A man infamous for his cold blood turned out to be shockingly gentle with me. He never told me I wasn't enough. Instead, he just held my grip and whispered, "Keep your hand steady, Princess." For the first time in my life, I realized I could actually be happy. So when Vincent came crawling back to fix things, he was stunned to find out the truth: this time, I was the one walking away.

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?"

After three days of the silent treatment, my fiancé, the Capo of the Moretti family, took his assistant, Bella, on an island vacation. He expected me to be driven mad with jealousy, just as I always had been. But when he returned to Valmont a month later, he found a different woman. He made me give up my corner office. I didn't fight him. I just packed my things and handed it over. To prop Bella up, he discredited me in front of a key partner at the annual family meeting, just so she could shine. I didn't try to prove my innocence. I just accepted the family's reprimand and took my punishment. When Lucas wanted to put Bella in charge of the family's most profitable business, I didn't even get angry. I handed over all the necessary documents without a fight, letting him redistribute power as he saw fit. Bella was smug. "See? What did I tell you?" "A woman like her just needs a firm hand. One trip to the island and she's terrified of losing you. Look how obedient she is now." Lucas bought it, praising Bella for her insight. In a move he'd never made before, he promised me a wedding so grand it would become a legend in the Valmont underworld. But he seemed to have forgotten the dissolution agreement he signed, the one I slipped him right before he got into the car for their vacation. I had already severed all ties with him. I was leaving, but he had no idea.

I had just gotten back from the hospital when Mom pulled me into the walk-in closet and held a pale pink couture gown against me. "Try it on. It's from the designer's new collection. We have a major event this weekend, and as the Wellman heiress, you need to look your best." Heat crept into my cheeks. The pregnancy test results were still tucked inside my bag. How could Mom already know? I smiled and nodded. "But Mom, wouldn't white be better?" I ducked my head, a shy smile playing on my lips. The news of my pregnancy was right on the tip of my tongue. "White does look prettier. Soren has such good taste, picking that white wedding gown for Daisy. You're the maid of honor, so pale pink is perfect." The smile froze on my face. Just then, Daisy called up from the living room. "Vivian, are you home? I brought my fiancé!" I picked up my phone and stared at the good-morning message Soren had sent me yesterday. "My dearest Vivian, you are the only bride I will ever have." I turned around and saw Soren and Daisy standing in my doorway, wrapped in each other's arms. Tears spilled down my cheeks. Soren, you lied to me.

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.

My fiancé Julian owed $50 million in gambling debts. He and my best friend Chloe drugged me. They sold me to an underground casino in New York. I woke up in a cell. I stared through the iron bars at the man I had loved for five years. My heart broke. Julian thought I would still fight back. He sneered at me through the bars. "Save it. No more tricks. I owe Don Victor $50 million. You’re my only way out." "Victor loves breaking stuck-up artists like you. You think you're so high and mighty? Crawl into his bed and beg. Let's see how he rips off your cheap lace!" "Once he's done breaking you, Chloe and I will get married. We’ll take over your gallery. It’s perfect!" The drugs still clouded my brain. My body went limp. I collapsed on the dirty floor. Tears rolled down my cheeks. Five years of pure devotion. This was my reward. Absolute betrayal. But they didn't know the truth. They didn't know Don Victor. The ruthless tyrant. The mafia boss who ruled the American underworld. He was my father. Ever since my mother died, my father guarded me like fragile glass. He was terrified the world would leave even a single scratch on me. Now, Julian was serving me up like a piece of meat. To please my own father. If he knew I was the one in this cage... Soon, the entire New York underworld would face the Don's absolute fury.

At eighteen, I defied my family and turned my back on an arranged marriage. I used every connection and every resource I had to install Corleone as a Mafia don. For the next ten years, I became his irreplaceable Donna. Through every vicious power struggle, we were the only people either of us could trust. I was certain there would never be betrayal between us. Until I went to the airport to pick up my stepsister, Bianca Rinaldi, who had just returned from abroad. After years apart, the moment she stepped out of the terminal, she threw herself straight into Corleone's arms. Watching them catch up like old friends, seeing that rare tenderness in Corleone's eyes, my heart sank. But when I confronted him, Corleone remained composed. "I've been working closely with overseas underground operations lately. Bianca spent years abroad and serves as the intermediary for this partnership. Our relationship is strictly business." That night, Corleone got a phone call and left me in the middle of the night, my clothes still disheveled. He didn't come home until morning. The next morning, I saw Bianca's latest social media post. Ten years, and you're still the one who drops everything and comes running the moment I call. In the photo, the hand clasping hers wore Corleone's signet ring. I pulled the divorce papers from the drawer, untouched for ten years. I slowly signed my full name on the dotted line: Donatella Valenti. Then I took out my phone and dialed the last number in my contacts. "Father, you win. I'll marry Alessandro Moretti."

Married to Don Victor for three years, I thought I could finally forget the pain and betrayal of my ex-husband, Dominic. This cold, ruthless man ruled the East Coast underworld. But he handed me the world on a silver platter, healing my broken pieces. Until late one night. Victor's underboss called, frantic, begging me to rush to Manhattan's top private hospital. Victor and Dominic were in a standoff outside the maternity ward. Guns drawn, surrounded by their elite hitmen. They were inches away from sparking an all-out mob war. And standing between them was my ex-best friend, Chloe. She was visibly pregnant. The Commission's mediator slid a truce across the table. His expression was painfully awkward. "The security tapes are clear. The two Dons nearly blew up the entire floor just to decide who gets to stay in her room tonight." Numbly, I signed the papers as the Donna of the Costello family. Prenatal vitamins bought by Victor already piled high in the room. Meanwhile, his and Dominic's men were still arguing over the schedule—how the two Mafia Dons would split their week to keep Chloe company, three days each. When I walked up to the bed, the two lethal men who were just at each other's throats now stood guarding her on both sides. Victor shielded her belly. The same lips that used to kiss every inch of my body now spit out bone-chilling words: "I forced her. If you have a problem, take it up with me." My ex-husband, Dominic, glared at me viciously. "Keep your mad dog of a husband in check. Tell him to stop harassing my woman!" I slowly shook my head. Watching this farce, silent tears slid down my cheeks. A mobster's love... in the end, it's just a cheap lie. Victor, I don't want you anymore either.

Seven years married to the Don, and I was finally worn down. During the family meeting I was buried in the paperwork and didn't notice my coffee cup had left a ring on the table. Elio brought the whole thing to a halt. "Danielle. The coaster. I'm not going to say it a third time." Every capo at the table turned to look at me, helpless. My face burned. Then his secretary, Fiona, reached over with a coaster and knocked the coffee over herself. He was on his feet in an instant, all concern. "You okay? Did it burn you?" I froze. I had never once seen Elio go this gentle in the middle of chaos. Fiona gave a shy little smile and came over to me. "Donna. Your coaster." I looked at that young, pretty face of hers. So it wasn't that Elio had no rules. He just didn't use them on her. I stood up. And with everyone watching, I walked straight out of the meeting room. Elio, I'm done waiting on you.

In my past life, the Vitale crime family finally claimed me. But my own brother—the family heir—framed me. To protect his precious adopted sister, he accused me of causing her heart attack. My real parents believed him. They dragged me out and dumped me at the iron gates of the family estate. "You're a monster. You don't deserve the Vitale name." Soon after, a rival family tracked me down. I bled out on the cold asphalt. When I opened my eyes, I was back. Back to the exact night that sealed my fate. Nico blocked the current Don, Vincent. He pressed a gun to my forehead. "Father, she's not my sister! She's an imposter!" Disappointment and disgust flashed in their eyes before they turned their backs, disappearing into the dark. I stood in the pouring rain, gripping the family crest pendant—the only proof of my bloodline. Those foolish hopes for family love froze completely in that moment. I didn't argue. I didn't look back. I just vanished into the rainy night. Ten years later, I became the most mysterious surgeon in the North American underworld. Code name: Dawn. Now, the man sitting across from me is Nico Vitale—the family's new Underboss. His hands tremble as he slides a file across my desk. His voice is hoarse. "Doctor, please... you have to save my sister." I stop when I see the name: Isabella Vitale. I look up at his face. Bloodshot eyes. His old arrogance completely gone. I stare at him for a long, long time. Long enough to push down the bloody memories. Finally, I speak. "Your sister... I'm not saving her."

Attending the ten-year high school reunion for the cheerleading squad and football team, I arrived in an old domestic Ford, while the parking lot was filled with Lamborghinis, Ferraris, Maybachs, and even a gold Bugatti. It was as if I were the only relic from another era. The moment I stepped out of my car, a former classmate, whose name I could no longer remember, looked at me with a sneer. “Well, if it isn’t the coach’s pet. How is it that after all these years, you’re still driving this beat-up old Ford?” “This thing looks like it belongs in a scrapyard from the last century!” During dinner, everyone gathered around the Bugatti owner, raising their glasses in celebration, while I was left ignored at the side. Only the cheerleading assistant sat next to me, raising a glass in my direction with a comforting smile. “Don’t let it get to you. Your car may be old, but I believe you’ll be driving a luxury car one day.” I let a small smirk curl at the corner of my lips and lowered my voice. “This car may look unimpressive, but it’s been fully upgraded with a carbon fiber body. It’s already worth over half a million dollars. Too bad, none of you even recognized its true value.”

After my rebirth, I decided to draw a hard line between myself and the heir of the Mafia Family, Carlo Gutierrez. He had his golden retriever take my seat and told everyone I wasn't even fit to touch dog food at his party. After that, I never sat at the main table again. He complained that my voice was giving him a headache and got in the way of his business, so I muted myself in front of him. He sneered that I reeked, so I packed up and went back to my rundown apartment in the slums, never setting foot on his territory again. In the end, he said just having me around would ruin his marriage alliance with the Moreno Family's Principessa. I nodded, then accepted someone else's proposal without hesitation. I made the choices opposite to what I made in my last life. After I married him in my previous life, the Moreno Family's Principessa was killed in a shootout. Carlo concluded I was the culprit and threw me into the basement for torture before finally throwing my body into the sea. Later, when he saw me with another man, he confronted me with red eyes. "Rosa Shaw, you've had your fun. Come back with me, and I'll pretend none of this ever happened!"

I came back from picking up takeout to find the fingerprint lock on our front door wouldn't recognize me. The passcode had been changed too. I was about to call my boyfriend Lawrence when I remembered he'd just broken up with me. I looked down at myself, wearing nothing but loungewear and slippers, a coffee stain splashed across my shirt. After a moment's thought, I caved again and sent Lawrence an apology. But the red exclamation mark beside it told me he'd already blocked me. This was the ninth time he'd broken up with me, and the ninth time he'd blocked me. I wanted to knock, but my hand rose only to hang in the air for a few seconds before dropping limply to my side. That closed door might as well have shut out my love along with it. Too many breakups. I was tired. Maybe it was time to let it end. Give him what he wanted, and set myself free.

On the day of the funeral, Marcus asked me to share him with his sisters-in-law. The moment the news broke, Selena, the eldest brother's wife, hurled her wine glass to the floor. Vivian, the second brother's wife, raised her voice and tore into Marcus for having no sense of decency. But the Hartley family's men dropped to their knees, begging the two widows to become Marcus’s mistresses, to carry on the bloodline in honor of their fallen husbands. I stood off to the side watching, and something in me snapped. I shoved through the crowd, slammed my hands on the long table, and demanded to know exactly what Marcus thought I was to him. I called him no better than a thug. Then I turned on the two sisters-in-law, called them frauds in widow's clothing, and by the end I'd said something unforgivable to just about everyone in that room. After that, I couldn't let it go. I hired a lawyer and sued them for fraud, for a staged marriage. They turned it around on me and said I was plotting to swallow the entire Hartley estate and drive what was left of the family into the ground. My father's business was sabotaged again and again. Three key shipping routes went dark. The dockyard was seized. I was thrown out of the estate and died in a damp basement in Sicily, with no doctor and no family. The landlord found me when he came to collect rent. I only learned the truth after I died. They'd been working together all along. His public reveal of the mistress was merely meant to drive me to snap, giving him a valid excuse to end our marriage. Then I opened my eyes. I was back in that living room, on that same day. The portraits of the two brothers sat on the long table. Selena stood in a black dress, eyes rimmed red. "Marcus, your brother's body is barely cold, and you want us to be your mistresses?" Vivian wore a pale blouse, her voice trembling. "I'd sooner die than betray your brother." This time around, I was going to give them exactly what they asked for.

My best friend breaks down and accuses me of skimming family shipments, which cost us billions. Without hesitation, my fiance, Don Scarpa Falcone, points a gun at me. The bullet grazes my ear. He sends me to prison himself, then gets engaged to my best friend instead. Before I'm taken away, the family butler begs him, "You raised her yourself. She's your fiancee. You can't just ruin her life like this!" "Break the rules, and pay in blood," he says, polishing his gun. "As for her future, I'll decide that later." Five years later, I walk out of prison. The entire Falcone family is waiting at the gate with him, as if my freedom were a handout. "Looks like you've learned your lesson. It's time to return and get back to work. Don't do anything stupid again," he says. I ignore him and walk straight to the stretch Lincoln behind him. The door opens. Chris Corleone, the king of the Aurelian underworld, raises his glass to me. "Welcome back, partner."