Reborn Mafia-Kurzgeschichten & Mafia Family Emotions-Kurzromane

In my first life, I pulled Dante Romano from the Hudson. My father rewarded me with a slap. Carlo said no respectable man would marry a Bellini daughter found soaked beside a stranger after midnight. When the Romano family came looking for Dante’s rescuer, he locked me away and presented my half sister, Bianca, in my place. Bianca took Dante’s gratitude. Carlo sold me into a brutal marriage. When I threatened to expose them, Bianca poisoned me. I woke beside the Hudson on the same winter night. This time, I saved Dante and took the obsidian crest from his neck. Carlo still silenced me. Bianca still drugged me and stole the crest. By the next afternoon, she had my proof, my father’s oath, and every Bellini guard behind her. She thought history was repeating itself. She was wrong. The crest wasn’t the only thing I had brought back from the Hudson. And when Dante discovered the rest, Bianca and Carlo would lose everything.

In my past life, Killian cut off all his mistresses and spoiled me rotten, doing everything to win my hand in marriage. But the day before our wedding, I overheard him boasting to his friends. "Killian, that orphan girl you supported is still clinging to you. She's younger and prettier than your fiancée. Are you really not tempted?" Killian curled his lip in disdain, "What is she even? She isn't even fit to lick my wife's toes. Tell her to get lost." His words sent a rush of euphoria through me. He had told me himself that financing Vivienne Moore was merely a strategic move to bolster my charity foundation. At that moment, I truly believed I had found my happily ever after. But on the wedding day, the orphan girl drove her car straight into me. She sobbed and pulled out a terminal diagnosis. "Killian, I don't have much time left. I beg you. Don't abandon me, please!" I got injured in a collision and pleaded with Killian to take me to the hospital first, but he scooped her up in his arms without a second glance. "Sierra, I need to take Vivienne abroad for medical treatment. If I were her husband, it would be way easier for me to get stuff done. We have to get a divorce first. I’m sorry.” I stared at him, my eyes widening in sheer shock. He kept going, his voice stead, “I promise I'll come back and marry you in five years. Just wait for me.” Five years turned into ten, and I waited for him in vain, nothing more than a fool. It wasn't until I was on my deathbed that I received his letter, "I'm sorry, Sierra. I'll marry you in the next life." I tore the letter to shreds and died of sheer rage. Yet, when I opened my eyes again, I was back on my wedding day. I calmly gazed after Killian as they faded into the throng. Then, without hesitation, I turned around and boarded a plane to Switzerland.

I am reborn with memories of my past life. And I carry a secret with me: my fiance, Ethan Larsen, had forged our marriage certificate. The one he had actually married was Serena Gray. But I do not expose his lie. Instead, I quietly submit my application to Greenvale University and eventually become a permanent resident in Verenza. In my past life, I spent a lifetime believing in a lie. I thought I was his wife, until I learned the truth on the day he died. He married Serena out of love but kept me only due to his sense of duty. On the funeral day, Serena arrived dressed in white, holding the actual marriage certificate in her hand. She effortlessly took over all his inheritance, while I was thrown out of the house, penniless, with nothing left but a trampled heart. In this life, I will no longer beg for love nor stay put out of pity. I'll leave quietly and live freely. They can keep acting out their so-called "perfect" love story. Because now, I can see it crystal clear—some women are born to be loved, while others are reborn so they don't have to wait to be loved.

"Your love makes me sick." Those were the final words my husband, Vittorio De Luca, left me in my past life. On our wedding day, Elara Hale had crashed my ceremony, begging Vittorio to run away with her. But he chose to stay by my side. Yet, when Elara died of an illness shortly after, he harbored nothing but hatred for me. He detested that I had clung to him for over a decade, forcing him into a marriage he never wanted. More than that, he loathed himself for not running away with Elara. When I opened my eyes again, I was reborn before everything went wrong. I looked at him, "Vittorio, I'm getting married." He looked a bit troubled. "You know I’m busy with a critical territorial expansion. My mind is entirely elsewhere…" “Never mind.” I offered a faint, indifferent smile. Relieved, Vittorio leaned in and pressed a kiss to my forehead. "Don't worry. We've been together for twelve years. I'll do the right thing and take responsibility." He didn’t know what I meant, but I knew what I’d do in this lifetime. I would never choose him again, let alone marry him.

The first thing I did when I woke up in this life? I called my underboss and ordered fifty crates of the new Colt revolvers delivered to the estate. Let me rewind. In my past life, my stepmother Veronica and my fiancé Marco were sleeping together. She got pregnant with his bastard. To keep my father, Don Salvatore, from finding out, she deliberately sabotaged a family weapons deal. She let a rival crew intercept the shipment and used the chaos to lose the baby. Then she came home crying to the Don. "It's all Irene's fault. She was too greedy, too reckless. She insisted on that unsafe sea route. I was ambushed, I lost the child... our heir..." I tried to defend myself. But Marco stepped up and pointed right at me. "Irene Moretti, I am beyond disappointed in you. You've always been reckless, never caring who gets caught in the crossfire. But this, making your own mother miscarry just to chase a win? That's monstrous. I'm done with you. The engagement is over." My father lost it. In front of the entire family, he lashed me with a whip, a dozen strokes. Afterward, Veronica sweet‑talked him into shipping me off to marry into our rival family. They locked me in their basement and tortured me until I died. Only after death did I learn the truth: Marco was Veronica's lover all along. He only agreed to marry me so they'd have cover to meet in plain sight. Now I open my eyes. And I'm back. The very day Veronica "lost" her baby. Not this time, sweetheart. Not. This. Time.

I woke up from a three-year coma to find another woman beside my parents and my fiancé, Matteo Rossi. Her name was Sofia Bellini, and she had spent those three years with them in my place. Her father, Sal Bellini, had died saving my life in a gunfight. So after I woke up, no one could bring themselves to send her away. I felt guilty too. So whenever she helped herself to my things and my privileges, I let her. I kept letting her, right up until the day Matteo and I were supposed to get married, when my own parents begged me in tears to let my fiancé go save another woman. In the dressing room, I stood in my wedding dress and looked over at Matteo by the window. He was smoking a cigar, his mind somewhere else. I'd known him for more than ten years. One look told me he was torn and worried. The church bells had already rung once. Out there, over 200 guests were waiting for the groom to show up. But Matteo was gripping his phone. On the screen was the last text Sofia had sent him. "Go get married. Don't worry about me." She had ditched her guards and walked alone into a nightclub controlled by our enemies. Now there was gunfire inside. In the end, Matteo came over to me. "I'll go get her. An hour, tops, and I'll be back to finish the ceremony." With that, he turned and walked out. My father went right after him with his men. My mother hesitated for two seconds. Then she let go of my hand too. Twelve minutes later, I walked into the church alone and told every guest the wedding was off.

from her. Again. The heavy iron gates of the Bellini estate were locked tight. Without Luca's permission, she couldn't take a single step outside. "Last month you snuck into underground bars twice. You ditched your bodyguards on your motorcycle, and then you got caught up in a shootout at the docks." Luca stood in front of her, his disappointment impossible to miss. "Isabella, when are you going to settle down ?" "Then how am I any different from a prisoner you keep locked up on your estate?" "If you didn't keep risking your life, I wouldn't have to rein you in at every turn. You're my wife. As Mrs. Bellini, you represent this family. You're not some ordinary woman who can come and go as she pleases." "I just want to be myself. I don't want to spend my whole life locked in the safe little cage you built for me." "You can be Mrs. Bellini, or someone else can." After that, she gave up allthing. She stopped going out alone with a gun, and she stopped talking back to the Bellini elders in public. That lasted until the night of a grand banquet for both families. A woman she had never seen before was wearing the emerald necklace Isabella's late mother had left behind, and she viciously mocked the dead woman in front of everyone. Isabella raised her hand and slapped the woman across the face. Her father, Antonio Moretti, say the woman's name in a low, heavy voice. "Viola.She's my daughter too." Luca walked over to Isabella and took the gun off her hip himself. "I should have kept my wife in line." Five years of dating, three years of marriage. She had filed down every sharp edge for him. She get one offhand remark: "I should have kept her in line." Isabella turned and ran out of the glittering banquet hall. Ten minutes later, she was ambushed at the street corner. She reached for her hip on instinct. But her fingers found only an empty holster. When she opened her eyes again, she had been reborn.Back to the time before she married Luca.

Everyone called my sister Alessia a prodigy. I was the only one who knew she was a thief. From the day I moved back into the brownstone, she started taking from me. Quietly. Carefully. My designs. My sketches. My drafts. Everything I created would appear under her name before I even had time to finish it. The family stood behind her. Always. My father, Salvatore Lucchese, head of the family, his word law itself, said he believed Alessia. So I became the liar. The plagiarist. The disgrace. They threw me out of the outfit's front shop. Blacklisted me from the industry. Erased my name. Then one of her loyal admirers ran me down in the street. That was the end. Or it should have been. When I opened my eyes again, it was the day before the national jewelry competition. This time, I didn't draw a single line. Let's see what my darling sister delivers… when the well has run dry.