Cerita Pendek Mafia Mafia & Novel Regret

The Mafia circle in New York City was a tangled web, where power shifted in the blink of an eye. The Dusk family, once a powerful force in the underworld, was now reduced to nothing more than a pawn in the game. Their only hope for survival was to marry off their daughters, securing the support they so desperately needed. I, Seraphina Dusk, was sadly one of those daughters. In my past life, I had managed to secure myself a powerful marriage. I married Silas Vane, the head of the most influential mafia family in the country. My sister, Lila, was less fortunate, ending up with Jaxon Westmore—whom she believed would save her. I gave Silas a son and a daughter, and in return, my family was gifted wealth and power. But my sister? She was not so lucky. Jaxon wasn’t the man she thought he was. Instead of honoring the marriage or alliance, he squandered his time on models and strippers, leaving Lila discarded by both him and our father. One seemingly ordinary day, Lila invited me to lunch—never did I expect that she would kill me, drove a knife into my heart. Then she killed herself. And now here I was, reborn, back when our father first told us that Lila and I have to marry for the family. And this time, Lila called her shots on Silas Vane. That’s when I knew. She was reborn as well. Let her have him, then. She had no idea what kind of man he really was.

My husband Bruno's goomah was pregnant with their second child. At the family dinner, he caressed his lover Ava's rounded belly. "This one will be a boy, the future heir to the Marino family. As my wife, it is your duty to raise him." This was the second time he had openly acknowledged one of his bastards. I didn't make a scene like I had before. I just calmly lifted my head and looked Bruno straight in the eye. Raucous laughter erupted from the family members around the table. "Remember last time, when she acted like a madwoman? Looks like she's finally learned her place." "The Rossi family's businesses have all been carved up. What can she do besides be an infertile trophy wife? She'll be kicked to the curb sooner or later." Bruno's face was expressionless, allowing them to hurl their insults at me. I fought back the tears burning my eyes and even managed a small smile. "Bruno, let's get a divorce." Bruno looked as if he'd heard the funniest joke in the world, his lips curling into a dismissive smirk. "Liliana, if you can come up with the hundred million dollars you owe this family, I'll sign the papers right now. Otherwise, stop making a scene." I didn't argue, and just dialed an encrypted number. "I accept the terms we discussed." A lazy laugh echoed from the other end of the line. "A hundred million? Merely the cost of a port. I can have it for you anytime, my princess."

My childhood friend promised to marry me once we came of age — but at my wedding ceremony, he gave my wedding ring to my stepsister, Summer Hugh. At the time, it was Victor Lowell, the fearsome mafia heir, who saved me by publicly announcing he had loved me for years. In the five years we had been married, he would fulfill every wish I had, even those I mentioned offhand. I truly believed I was the center of his world. All that changed when I stumbled across a top-secret folder as I was cleaning his bookshelf. The very first page was a file on Summer, with three red words printed in bold, “Top protection priority.” It was followed by a mission report I knew too well. On the night of the mission, there had been an attempt on my life. My blood had almost run dry before I was saved. When I woke up at the hospital, I found out that I had lost a baby I did not know I had been carrying. I wept bitterly in Victor’s arms, but I did not tell him about the baby. I did not want him to worry about me more. Now, I finally found out — Summer had been attacked that night as well, and Victor’s orders had been: “Save Summer first.” My tears soaked into the paper, smudging his handwriting. “Alright,” I said softly but firmly into the silence. “If my marriage had been a lie all along, I’ll disappear from your life. Forever.”

Whispers in the underworld mentioned that Jason Marino, heir to the Family with its hands in the cross-continental arms trade, supposedly loved women with slim waists. Since his recent return to the country, his eyes had landed on Sonia Stewart—sworn sister to my fiancé, Andy Black. When Andy found out, he disappeared for three whole days. I finally tracked him down in the Family's club, only to overhear a conversation that shattered my world. "I'm not just going to stand by and watch Sonia marry that playboy Jason," Andy was telling his lieutenant. "On the wedding day, you need to swap Sonia's wedding car with Leona's. No one must find out!" His lieutenant thumped his chest, swearing, "No problem, boss! I'll get it done. But... What about your fiancee, Leona?" Andy let out a confident laugh, as if he were in control of everything. "I'm the Don's hand-picked Consigliere. Jason knows Leona belongs to me, so he won't lay a finger on her. Once I've slept with Sonia, he'll have to give up on her. After that, we'll just send someone to pick Leona up. She won't suspect a thing. Instead, she'll be scared and trembling… Pathetic but adorable nonetheless. She'll come running right back to my arms!" Every word was like a bullet leaving holes in my heart, every tone tearing it apart. I stumbled away as fast as I could, praying they wouldn't hear the sound of my heart breaking. When Andy tried to pick me up according to his plan later on, he broke down.

My fiance, Victor Blackwood, is a mafia boss who rules the country's underworld with an iron fist. To the rest of the world, he is the epitome of power. Yet to me, he is the embodiment of love. But I do not realize the cost of loving a man like him. On Valentine's Day, I cook his favorite dishes and wait for him to come home. However, time passes, and his chair stays empty. Uneasy, I go to Queenie Stone's social media page. She is Victor's foster sister. She posts, "All I said was that I felt lonely, and he came right away. "Even when I accidentally spilled wine on him, he didn't mind. Victor is still someone who puts family first, even if it means neglecting his lover. "He never lets me down. I hope things stay that way." In the photo, Victor's shirt is soaked at the waist. Queenie's handkerchief lingers near his most private parts, but he doesn't pull away. He merely looks at her affectionately. I do not make a fuss and give Queenie's post a like. Then, I send Victor a message that reads, "Let's break up." Victor ignores it as always. Later, I discover that when my breakup message popped up, he had said offhandedly, "Vivienne can't live without me. She's just acting out. "If I ignore her for a few days, she'll come crawling back by herself. She's easy to please." What he doesn't know is that I was easy to handle only because I once loved him. But now that I have decided to leave, he cannot make me turn back, no matter how he tries to win me over.

At 4:00 a.m., my husband, Rocco, gently shook me awake. His voice was a low murmur, . "Alessia, my love, could you do something for me?" But his next words shattered the illusion. "Scarlett is hungry. Go make her some seafood soup." Scarlett was our maid, and she was also Rocco's pregnant goomar. "I just had fresh seafood delivered. Get to the kitchen and make her a bowl of soup. Just for Falcone's heir." I refused, my voice cold. His anger flared in an instant. "Don't be so unreasonable, Alessia." "Is it really so hard for you to make some soup?" I shook my head, silent. He stroked my cheek, a patronizing smile playing on his lips. "Fine, Alessia. So you've learned to defy me now." "Think carefully, Alessia. Do you really want to keep your place as a Falcone?" "And your position as the family's lawyer? Think about whether you still want these… then give me your answer." Seeing the arrogance in Rocco's eyes, the last ember of love I had for this man died. I took out my phone and dialed a number I hadn't called in a long time. "I want out of the Falcone family."

I fell for Don Lorenzo Moretti the second I saw him. Hard. As a mafia princess, I wasn't supposed to chase anyone. But for him, I swallowed my pride and made him my mission. A year later, he finally had me, pinning me to the bed as he moved inside me. His eyes were pure fire, and in that mo ment, they saw only me. For ten years, we were electric. We fucked in five-star hotels all over the world. We just fit. I was his lucky charm at the poker table. I took shots for him until I bled from my stomach. I even took a bullet for him. Then came our engagement party. Lorenzo left me standing there alone. Said something "came up." I went back to our apartment, only to find him kissing my stepsister, Juliana. That’s when I knew. He had always loved her. I was just a stand-in. He tried to explain, words tumbling out in a panicked rush, promising a bigger, better party to make up for it. A laugh, cold and hollow, died in my throat. I turned my back on him, pulled out my phone, and called my mother in Sicily. "I'll marry into the Romano family."

I loved my stepbrother, Simon Rossi, the Don, for ten years. When he got poisoned one day, I offered myself to him and ended up pregnant. He smoked half a packet of cigarettes before saying, “I’ll take responsibility for this.” However, his first love, Camillia, claimed that she had an asthma attack on our wedding day. I begged Simon to wait until our ceremony was over before going to her. Unfortunately, Camillia escaped the hospital and died on her way to find him. Prior to her death, she called Simon 99 times. But he did not answer even once because of our wedding ceremony. When I found out, I felt terrible. Yet, Simon was exceptionally calm. After our wedding, my health deteriorated exponentially, and I bled heavily during childbirth. Just as I was about to die, I heard the doctor sigh softly. “Mr. Rossi, you’re ruthless. The poison you gave your wife has seeped into her bones. The baby can’t be saved either.” “Camillia suffered the same pain before her death.” When I opened my eyes again, I had gone back to the night before everything happened.

I was New York’s golden girl, the perfect princess. But for three years, I loved a monster, Don Damien Costello. I finally got the courage to propose. And I found him kissing another woman, Sophia Marcelli, the princess of our rival family. "I'm bored with you, my perfect little doll. I need a real queen. Sophia is the only one fit to be by my side." All of New York was talking. Damien Costello had tossed me aside. So I moved on, Found another man. Left my old self behind. We kissed in a cramped elevator. I did something I'd never dared to do. I just never expected the doors to open. And there he was. My ex. Don Damien. His face was pure murder.

I was performing the hundredth "restoration" surgery on my mafia husband's latest mistress when I finally decided to leave him. For five years, I, Isabella Rossi, have lived a double life: the respected wife of a powerful Don, and the personal physician tasked with "purifying" the women he discards. Vincent's twisted religious conviction is his law: only a wife untouched by any other man can bear his legitimate heir. I was that pure wife, yet he treated me as his most unclean possession. My love for him died a slow death. A thousand empty nights. It was killed by the cold steel of my own operating table. By the sounds of other women boasting about his touch. The five-year prenuptial agreement that bound me to this hell was set to expire at midnight. I had already called my grandfather, the only man Vincent truly fears. My escape was hours away. By the time he realized his mistake, it was too late.

As the flames engulfed my body in the underground warehouse, I used the last of my strength to call my brother, the new Don of the Moretti family. Just as I was about to draw my last breath, Lorenzo finally answered, his voice as cold as the Sicilian winter wind. "Isabella, what the hell are you up to now?" "Brother, save me…" My voice was barely a whisper, but he cut me off without a hint of mercy. "Can't you go one day without causing trouble?" "Liliana's debutante dinner is next week. If you don't show up, I'll drag you back here myself." He hung up without a second thought, completely oblivious to the desperation in my voice. Despair mingled with the searing agony that wracked my body as the flames danced higher, and I couldn't hold on any longer. As I closed my eyes, tears still trickled from their corners. You won't have to drag me back, my brother. I'm never coming back.

After my fiance’s childhood friend found out I was born with a heart condition, she secretly poured a high-dose energy drink into my champagne. The moment I drank it, my heart started racing, and stabbing pain spread through my chest. In a panic, I tore open my only emergency medication, but the water I used to take it had been swapped with strong lemon water. As soon as I drank it, my face went pale. I lost all strength and collapsed to the ground. “Lemon water’s full of vitamin C. It helps with hangovers and keeps you healthy.” Charlotte Whitmore laughed so hard she nearly doubled over. With her arms crossed, she looked at my fiance, Ethan Cross, the boss of the Rolling Stones. “Ethan, your fiancee’s acting is incredible! “I’ve been a doctor for years, and I’ve never seen anyone react like this to a little champagne and lemon water.” I bit my lip until I tasted blood. The pain made my eyes sting, and I clutched Ethan’s leg. “Honey, please, call an ambulance! I can’t take it anymore…” For a moment, his expression wavered, but the guests quickly cut in. “Come on, stop pretending! Nobody dies from a bit of champagne and lemon water.” “Yeah, you’re just jealous Charlotte got promoted and didn’t want to toast to her.” Ethan’s face turned cold again. He yanked my hand off and stepped away. “Charlotte’s a doctor. You’ll be fine with her here.” I stopped begging and texted my father asking for help.

Three days before the wedding, the church called to inform me that my fiancé had changed the date. When I went to ask him why, I walked in on him throwing a bachelor party with his friends. "Samuel, this was the day Claire personally chose. Why would you suddenly change it?" someone asked. Samuel Gordon stubbed out his cigarette, looking utterly nonchalant. "Because that day happens to be Janet's birthday," he said. "I need to celebrate it with her." The room fell silent in shock. "Aren't you afraid Claire will find out and kill you? Have you forgotten what she did before?" At the mention of my name, Samuel gave an icy snort. "That was all in the past. Claire loves me to death now. She even took three bullets for me once, so how could she ever bring herself to hurt me?" I stood at the doorway, watching the snow fall behind me, and let out a long sigh. Five days later, he stood in an empty church, frantically calling my phone. "Did you forget? It's our wedding day!" "I didn't forget," I said. In another church, wearing a wedding gown, I was saying "I do" to another man.

Tony Gambino never forgave me. His childhood sweetheart died saving my life, and for seven years, his hatred was a constant, silent burn. I fasted. I prayed. I begged for absolution. He met my penance with a cold sneer. "I'll only forgive you when you're dead." The words were a knife to the heart. So why, when we were both poisoned, did he shove the only antidote down my throat? As the poison claimed him, blood trickling from his lips, he choked out his last words, "Scarlett... in our next life, let's never meet." Later, I tried to visit his grave. His sworn brother and Consigliere, Richard Bruno, blocked my path. He pressed a gun to my forehead. "I don't know how you have the nerve to show your face here, Scarlett. He'd be alive if he hadn't saved you. "I should never have let him give up Elma for you. You're a curse. Everyone who gets close to you gets destroyed." Their eyes were unanimous in their blame. And they were right. So I watched his gravesite from a distance, my own guilt a heavier stone than any marker. Not long after, I was killed in a gang crossfire. When I opened my eyes, I was seven years in the past. This time, I made a different choice: I let Tony go—so that everyone might live.

My fiance, Simon Rossi, is a mafia Don with a reputation for brutality. He suddenly takes in an orphan girl and spoils her rotten. He names her Giara, saying she's pure, like a beam of light. But that is the name he has promised for our future daughter. He thinks he's hidden it well. But the night before our engagement party, I notice his cufflinks. The ruby ones I gave him are replaced with cheap plastic cartoon cats. I don't believe he's really cheating, so I abduct Giara to get answers without hurting her. Then Simon bursts in with his men. 50 people die, and three armories go up in flames. "Ivina Coleo, consider this a lesson. But don't worry. I'll send her away. Remember, this is the first time you touch her, and the last." But at the engagement party, Giara sits with Simon's parents, smiling right at me. The sight sparks a fury I can't control. I lunge forward, determined to send her away myself. Simon tells Giara to leave, coaxing me through the ceremony. But that night, he binds my limbs with stones and sinks me into the sea. "I told you that was the last time." Cold water fills my lungs. When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the day I first abducted Giara. This time, I don't want Simon or the wedding anymore.

I lifted my head from Rhys's arms, his strong chest rising and falling against my cheek. Silk sheets tangled around our naked bodies, the air thick with the scent of our passion. After a passionate night with my childhood friend, the Mafia heir, I was jolted awake at three in the morning by the shrill ring of a phone. It was the Don, ordering me to bring Rhys back to the estate for an arranged marriage. I figured it was just another heiress trying to claw her way into the Griffin family, so I kissed his forehead, pressing myself against him and whispering with a low laugh. "Rhys, what's your plan for this boring princess?" He arched an eyebrow, wrapping a lazy arm around my waist. "Baby, make sure you pick out a good tie for me. I need to make a good impression on my future father-in-law." Seeing me freeze, Rhys sat up and shot me a casual glance, his voice laced with indifference. "Maeve, what's with that reaction? We're just having fun." "You didn't actually think you were going to be the next Donna of the Griffin family, did you?"

I died five years ago. Now my husband, the Don of our Mafia family, wants me to take the fall for his sister again—this time for accidentally killing a British noble's heir during an arms deal. He's holding a fake confession letter with my forged signature, storming into my old apartment in the rust district, only to find it empty. Frustrated, he grabs the corner store owner downstairs, demanding to know where I am. The owner pauses, wiping his hands on his apron, calmly tells him: "Serafine? She died five years ago." "Heard it was retaliation from a rival family during the gang war. They ambushed her in an alley... shot her over a dozen times. She died immediately." My husband, Lucien, refuses to believe it. Convinced the owner is on my payroll, hiding me to help me escape his reach. He scoffs, his eyes filled with scorn: "Oh, so what? Because I called her out for messing up that last job, now she's throwing a tantrum?" "You tell her, if she doesn't come back and take the fall in three days, I'll revoke her grandmother's 'special family protection'! Let the old woman rot!" With that, he storms out, his rage still simmering. The owner watches him leave and sighs, shaking his head. "There's no grandmother left to protect... That woman passed away not long after Serafine did... couldn't survive the winter without our family's medical supplies and protection..."

A fortune-teller once told me that my husband would betray me in the seventh year of our marriage. Looking at Mario Brasco—his eyes filled with nothing but me—I couldn't help but scoff at the fortune-teller's words. Everyone knew Mario loved me enough to give up everything. When I caught a simple cold, he abandoned a multimillion-dollar mafia deal and flew home just to be by my side. When I was kidnapped, he took three bullets rescuing me, yet never once thought of giving up. When my sister confessed her love to him, desperate enough to end her own life, he turned her down without hesitation and forced my father to send her overseas. But on the seventh anniversary of our marriage, I received an unexpected email from an unknown sender. After reading it, I asked Mario for a divorce.

My boyfriend of five—Evan Callister, suddenly proposed to me. Everyone flooded me with congratulations. I felt happy too, quickly started planning our wedding. Then I overheard him talking with his gang friends. Apparently, I wasn’t his only option. Just one of five women he’d been seriously considering for marriage. A lineup that included his childhood sweetheart, a few of his long-time bed warmers, and some well-connected heiresses whose families could do wonders for his. “I didn’t imagine that you actually gonna marry Liora at the end, I thought Viola’s still the one you love.” And then Evan, “Liora’s father died. If I marry her, I could have all of her money and the casino. She cannot do a thing about it. She only has me as her family now.” “And what if Viola hears about your wedding and freaks?” his friend teased. Evan chuckled. “I told her that I will make Liora conveniently die after the wedding. Then her and I can get marry instead.” My heart iced over. But I didn’t cry or confront or even blink. Instead, I made the call to the man my father had always wanted me to marry — the one of noble status, the one everyone admired, the one I’d avoided. And just said one thing, “My wedding is three days from now. Come and elope with me.”

At the annual Mafia Summit, my childhood sweetheart, Salvatore Russo, falls victim to an aphrodisiac slipped to him by a beautiful spy from a rival family. And I, the cherished daughter of the most feared Don in the west, willingly become his antidote. That night, he drives me to the edge of breathless surrender, again and again. "Principessa, what did I ever do to deserve your favor?" he mutters. From that moment on, his love consumes me whole, making me forget what loneliness ever felt like. But in the third year of our marriage, someone sent me a private video of a man and a woman. It's from Rosa Conti, the same woman who once drugged Salvatore. In the video, Salvatore's voice is thick with desire. "Darling, of course I remember. The one who should've been in my bed that night was you." Then, Rosa sends me another voice message, taunting, "Arianna Moretti, for three years, he's been dulling your claws, turning you into something soft and spoiled. Everything he did was just to bring me back." However, she doesn't know that when I love Salvatore, I don't mind surrendering to him. And when I no longer love him, he'll face my fiercest vengeance.