Cerita Pendek & Novel Melodramatic Mafia

The night my family’s rival gang stormed the mafia ball, I was taken as leverage. My boyfriend, Nolan, and my closest friend, Riven, stood only steps away. But they chose to shield my cousin, Anna, instead. I was being saved by a secret man hours later—bruised, shaken, and already forgotten. No one asked what had been done to me. Nolan only said, “Anna was scared. She needed us more.” Days later, Anna invited me to her birthday party. I went out of courtesy—only to watch her cast me as the villain of her story. Nolan and Luca stood by her, protecting her again. That night, I said yes to the marriage alliance my family had prepared years ago. When I left the city, Nolan finally texted—angry, wounded, offended. “You’re really leaving?" I replied with just one line. “You’re more than welcome to my wedding.”

I spent five years helping my boyfriend Marco rise to the position of Don. I nearly died countless times, but I didn't care; I loved him. He used to look at me tenderly and promised to propose to me publicly at his Don succession ceremony. But on that very day, he held the hand of another Mafia Principessa Sophia Romano and announced their engagement. To completely get rid of me, Sophia pulled a stack of photos from her bag and slammed them into my face. "See for yourself! She's been sleeping around to get intel!" In the picture, I was leaning into a man's arms. I tried to explain, but Marco interrupted me. "I always knew you were lowborn, but I didn't realize you were this cheap." "Get out!" Marco pointed at the door. "Elena, you are exiled from the family. Never let me see you again." I finally saw this man for who he truly was. He was completely subservient to me when he needed my help to seize territory, but after becoming the Godfather, he needed a more distinguished Donna, and therefore no longer needed me. I sneered; they had no idea that the man in the picture was my brother, the Don of the most powerful Corleone family. Sophia’s family was nothing compared to the Corleone family. I stopped arguing and simply turned and left. But when my true identity was finally exposed, he crawled back to me, weeping and begging for my forgiveness.

I've been with Giovanni Rossi for ten years. In fact, I'm the only lover he has. During countless nights of passion, he promised me that he'd marry me as soon as he became the Don of his family. But on the night he sits on the throne, he decides to cast me out for the sake of my replacement, Lisa Esposito. "Selena, she's different from you. You can stay as my secret lover, but she needs an official title. Lisa has been living in a clean world. The love she has for me is pure as well. She's just like you when you were 19 years old." After that, Giovanni gets down on one knee and puts on a pair of ballet flats onto Lisa's feet in a tender manner. As I step out in the heavy downpour, I never look back. What Giovanni doesn't know is that Vincenzo Bellini, the strongest Don of the mafia world, has been waiting for me for the past ten years with a crown in his hands.

When I was having a heart attack, my parents, my brother, and my fiancé were all at our family casino—celebrating Eva, our adopted daughter, at her twenty-first birthday, her official debut into the mafia world. The doctor refused to operate without a legal guardian’s signature. So I called them. My father’s assistant answered. “Sorry, Miss. The Don is in the middle of a toast.” My brother and mother let it ring until it went silent. Finally, my fiancé, Adam, picked up. Music roared behind him. I could hear laughter, glasses clinking. “Cecilia,” he said, impatient. “If you can’t even show up for Eva’s party, stop causing trouble. Today is Eva’s debut. Every Don from three territories is here. Whatever drama you’re playing can wait.” I lost count of how many times they chose her over me. So after this call, I stopped calling. I signed my own name. My family thought I’d finally learned to be obedient. But they should’ve known that in our world, silence only means one thing—I was preparing to disappear for good.

My husband of five years, Eric Vale, came home drunk again. As I laid him in our bed, he murmured, “Don’t worry, my love… I’ll take care of you and our baby.” My heart stopped. Baby? We’d been on birth control since the day we married. There was no baby. I shook him lightly. “What are you talking about, Eric?” He blinked at me, confused, then smiled like nothing had happened. “Hey, babe… did I say something?” The next morning, I checked our joint account. Every month, ten thousand dollars had been wired to a woman named Bella Evers. Yesterday, he sent two hundred thousand more—with a note: I can’t wait for our baby to be born. Bella was Eric’s mistress and was now six months pregnant. So I made one call. “Papa,” I told the most feared Don in the South, “I’m getting a divorce.” I glanced at my sleeping husband. “I want him gone. And I want him broke.”

"I'm scheduling the C-section for tomorrow. The doctor will extract her bone marrow during the procedure." Those were the words that shattered Selena's world. Her husband, Ellis Winston, the most ruthless Mafia Don in New York, was going to force her to deliver their baby at twenty-seven weeks. To him, her pregnant body was just a blood farm to cure Jennifer, the manipulative half-sister who supposedly saved his life. So, Selena ran. She left behind a pool of blood, a crushed ultrasound photo, and a destroyed wedding ring. The world thought she was dead. Six years later, Ellis is a walking corpse. He rules the global underworld, but he is tormented by the ghost of the wife he pushed to the grave. During his company's grand anniversary banquet, the heavy ballroom doors burst open. Selena is back. But she isn't the weak, obedient housewife in a cheap housewife anymore. She is the untouchable heiress of the Merrick billionaire empire. She strides down the red carpet, a signed divorce agreement in hand, ready to crush the man who ruined her. Ellis refuses to let her go. He is willing to go to war with Wall Street to drag her back. But what will the arrogant Don do when he comes face-to-face with a genius six-year-old boy who looks exactly like him? He will pay any price to win her back. Even if it costs him his empire, his organs, and his life.

The first time Rafael betrayed me, he threw the woman from his club at my feet. His eyes were bloodshot as he told me to take my pick. My love for him was a sickness, so I forgave the transgression. For the second betrayal, I had the dancer sent out of New York, warning her never to set foot on the East Coast again. On the night of our engagement party, sealing the union of our two families, Rafael pinned me against the walnut desk in the study. His eyes burned with rage as he demanded: "Where is Nina? She's carrying a Mancini heir." "It was a mistake. You can take your anger out on me. Nina is naive; she doesn't deserve this. I'm begging you, just let the child be born safely. I swear I'll never see her again." "You're afraid of childbirth. This gives you an heir without the risk." "Listen, Alessia. You are the future Donna of the Mancini family. When that child is born, it will know only you as its mother. I swear on my life." He forced me backward until shards from the vase I'd knocked over cut into my skin, staining my silk dress with blood. I looked at him and smiled, then gave him the address of a safe house in Brooklyn. He slammed the heavy oak door behind him. Shaking, I pulled out my encrypted phone. "You were right about him. Is your offer still on the table?"

At my wedding rehearsal dinner, a photo of me and my fiancé’s older brother—naked in bed—was displayed in front of everyone. I said it was a setup. Jason, my soon-to-be husband and the Don of the Vale, said, “I trust you.” He erased the footage—and married me anyway. For two years, he kept me hidden while my stepsister, Nerissa, stood beside him in public. He said it was to protect me—so I believed him. I believed him even when the rumors said he was sleeping with her, even when he introduced her as his Donna… until today, when I found them in bed together. Jason didn’t even stop kissing her when he saw me. “Do you like this anniversary gift, Alina?” That was when I finally understood— Jason had never believed me—and the reason he still married me wasn’t love. It was punishment.

I am a top-notch surgeon. But when my ex-boyfriend —— now the Don of the Blackwood family —— was brought to the hospital injured, even the head nurse advised me against taking the case. Everyone said the Dante Blackwood despised me. Because three years ago—the last time we met—I took off my engagement ring and handed it back to him, then got into the car of Dominic, the Don of Mercer family. But I still put on my white coat and walked in. Not only walked in—I pressed my hand right against his stomach without a shred of hesitation. Before the punch came, it was the killing intent in his eyes. "I told you. Touch me one more time, and I'll break every bone in your body." The interns outside the door were all holding their breath for my safety. I adjusted my gold-rimmed glasses and let out a helpless smile. But the moment I undid the buttons of his shirt, even though his mouth told me to get out, his body couldn't help but tense up.

The night before my wedding, I found out I was pregnant. That same night, I found out my fiancé had already chosen another woman to give him his first child. Adrian DeLuca, heir to a mafia empire and the man who once swore I was the only woman he would ever love, came home carrying her perfume on his clothes and told me, as if it were the most reasonable thing in the world, that it was only a medical arrangement. His dead friend’s widow needed an heir, and after I had failed to give him one through sixty-six rounds of IVF, he had decided this was the best solution for everyone. I said nothing. I let him go on preparing the wedding. I let him believe I would still walk down the aisle and become Mrs. DeLuca. But while he was planning our ceremony, I was planning my disappearance. On our wedding day, the estate would still open its doors. The guests would still arrive. The ceremony would still begin. But the bride Adrian DeLuca betrayed would die there. By the time he learned the truth, that I had been carrying his child all along, I would already be gone under a new name, taking his heir somewhere he could never reach.

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.

Everyone in Sirano knows that Lorenzo Gallo only likes one type of woman—submissive and docile. I happen to fit those criteria. When we're dating, Lorenzo has gifted me jewelry, villas, and even a harbor. He has also prepared a grand proposal for me. After the proposal, Lorenzo tells me that the Don has ordered him to sire an heir with his widowed sister-in-law, Elena Marino. Only when an heir is produced will the Don acknowledge Lorenzo's wedding with me. Since then, the phrase that he utters to me the most is "just wait for a little longer". I have to wait for Lorenzo throughout all 99 nights of him sleeping with Elena. I need to keep waiting till she gets pregnant once again. Just as I think all the waiting has come to an end, I accidentally overhear a conversation between Lorenzo and his best friend. "Lorenzo, the hospital has confirmed that Elena is pregnant with a boy. This means you must marry Susanna now." "It's impossible for me to be with Elena in this lifetime. But Susanna is very docile, not to mention she loves me with all her heart. She's the best candidate for my marriage." It turns out that the man I thought who loved me deeply had fabricated those feelings just to protect another woman. That night, I no longer drag out Howardson University's invitation, and chose to leave for a ten-year classified medical research program abroad. Lorenzo Gallo, I don't want your misplaced love anymore!

On the night of our seventh anniversary, I was pulled into an emergency C-section. Before I could scrub in, my director caught my arm. “Gianna, the woman on that table is under the protection of a man powerful enough to ruin this hospital by morning. Do not make a mistake.” I glanced at the patient chart and frowned. Men in our world including Enzo were all obsessed with their wives. How could a man like that possibly have another woman he cherished? The surgery went well. Clean incision. Clean closure. No complications. I had barely exhaled in relief when a swarm of men in black dragged me to my knees outside the recovery room and forced me to my knees outside a private recovery suite.

In the VIP lounge of an underground casino, Maeve, the Falcone family's princess, had been plied with too much hard liquor. Fueled by alcohol, someone goaded her into revealing the most shameless thing she'd ever done to win over the Don. She swirled her glass, pointed at me dealing cards behind the table, and threw her head back with a laugh. "Seven years ago, when Declan was in a coma after a shootout, I took his private phone. And I deleted the distress message that bitch sent him. Every last trace of it. Then I replied in his name: You're a burden. Go die." "You'll never guess what happened next. That idiot stood outside the safe house all night in a downpour, like a stray dog. I almost died laughing…" The room erupted in crude laughter. Only the man enthroned at the head of the table remained silent. The crystal whiskey glass in his hand shattered with a sharp crack. Blood mixed with the amber liquor, trickling over the veins on the back of his hand before dripping onto the carpet. His murderous, bloodshot eyes were locked on me. I calmly dealt the last hole card in front of him and offered a clean, white silk handkerchief. "Don Declan, you should wipe your hand. Blood on the felt is bad luck." After all, some stains never wash out.

I had been in a secret relationship with Don Vincent Russo for ten years. The night I found out I was pregnant, he had already booked a wedding. I thought the man who had taken me in from the orphanage was finally going to give me a home. That was, until I saw the video of him kissing his first love, Sofia Costa. On my way to confront him, I was hit by a car and thrown onto the pavement. Lying in a pool of my own blood, I called him again and again. Nineteen times. When he finally answered, he was coaxing Sofia. "If it's too noisy, just turn off the phone, my principessa. Your mood matters most. "Our partnership with the Costa family depends on you." I hung up in despair. What he did not know was that not long before that, I had learned the truth. I was the real heir to the Costa family. The woman he loved… was nothing more than a fake I would tear down with my own hands.

My husband, Don Axel Thorne, died protecting me in a mob war. I was his widow for six years, until I turned thirty. The old guard of the Family told me it was time to move on. My friends told me to let him go. Even in my dreams, his bloody hands would cup my face, begging me to live again. So I agreed to an arranged marriage. But first, I went to his grave for one last goodbye. I’d just left the cemetery when a post appeared in my feed. [Thanks, hubby, for the six-year anniversary gift! A fifty-million-dollar penthouse in Miami!] My blood ran cold. My hands shook. The phone nearly slipped from my grip. In the photo, the man I buried six years ago was slipping a massive diamond onto another woman's finger. The background was a lavish penthouse. His style. I put my people on it. We had the location in minutes. Drove straight there. I knocked, the door opened, and I froze. The woman standing there was Seraphina. His adoptive sister. The one the Family exiled six years ago for her obsession with him.

My father was one of the first dons to rise out of the Naples mob. My mother was an iron-fisted businesswoman with a reputation that made grown men flinch. When I was ten, somebody had the nerve to hijack one of my father's freight ships. He had the man's arms and legs broken with a crowbar, then stuffed a handful of gold rings down his throat — told him to count his money while he crawled. When I was fifteen, some scheming woman tried to get her claws into my father. My mother hired the filthiest pimps off the docks, shipped her down to a back-alley bar in Marseille, and told her to make her own way. And me — I grew up running the streets of Naples like I owned them. The sons of every other family knew to call me Miss Ferrante and keep their hands to themselves. Then I met him. A rough, quiet man fresh out of the army. For him I put down the knives, traded the silk for plain cotton, and followed him back to that little nothing of a coastal town, Porto Scuro. Today my mother-in-law and my husband went down to the dock warehouses to settle a dispute. They held her face down in a barrel of rotting fish guts. They kicked in three of his ribs. I stared at the salt fish I'd been slicing on the kitchen board, let out a cold laugh, and brought the knife down so hard the oak split in half. Then I dialed my father's private line.

The day I buried my mother, my husband, Luca, the Don Ricci, conveniently disappeared. Later, my best friend, Annie, sent me a video. In it, she stood beside Luca in a hospital room while a doctor confirmed her pregnancy. Luca looked… happy. Radiant, even. The baby was theirs. Then another message came. Annie’s voice, “Sis, looks like you failed—just like your mother did against mine.” I had always known my father cheated on my mother and had a child out there somewhere. I just never imagined… it was Annie. That night, Luca came home—with Annie by his side. I said only four words. “I want a divorce.” Luca refused, saying I wouldn’t survive without him—but it was just gaslighting. In truth, he couldn’t afford to lose me or my family’s power. So I called one man Luca hated most in this world—his uncle, Stefan Ricci. The man who once stood equal to Luca in the race for power… If Luca believed he could humiliate me and still keep me tethered to him—his perfect little guarantee to the Don’s seat.… Then I could just as easily make another man take his place.

Lucien Varelli loved me best when my madness belonged to him. I tracked his convoy routes, checked his burner phones, and almost turned the city upside down whenever he disappeared for more than five minutes. At first, Lucien loved it. He kissed the signet ring on my hand and swore no woman, no family, no power in the city could ever take him from me. Until the night I cut off a call from Celeste Ardian. After that, I was no longer his wife. I was a problem. A scandal. A woman too unstable to stand beside the heir of a ruling house. So Lucien signed the papers and sent me to St. Dymphna House. They called it a private residential clinic. What it really was, was a place where inconvenient women were broken down and rebuilt into something quieter. Five years later, Lucien came to take me home. The director told him I had done beautifully. I no longer screamed. I no longer fought. I knew how to lower my eyes, soften my voice, keep my hands still, and smile like a proper Donna. Lucien thought they had cured me. He was wrong. They had not cured my madness. They had only killed the part of me that once loved him.

I was on vacation with my mother at our country vineyard when a message arrived from Ava, my husband's personal secretary. He was the new Don of the Falcone family. The photo showed a woman, bruised and naked, curled up on the floor of a cold cellar. It was followed by a voice message, her tone arrogant: "Helen, is this what you peasants do? Claw your way out of the mud just to leech off the Don?" "Don Lorenzo just acquired this estate, and you have the nerve to let your blind, ill-mannered mother wander in here to freeload? As the Don's personal secretary, it's my job to uphold the Falcone family's dignity." "This is the price for trespassing on the Don's estate!" I froze, my eyes lifting to the other side of the long table where my mother was sipping her red wine, perfectly safe. I zoomed in on the photo. The moment I saw the details, my heart seized. On a pale hand was a familiar ring. It was the heirloom the Falcone Madre never took off. I immediately dialed Ava's number. "Ava, are you insane? That's Lorenzo's mother!" A careless, almost flirtatious laugh came from the other end of the line. "The Don may consider you his property, but he never agreed to take in your dirt-poor family."