เรื่องสั้นแนว Feel-Good Story Mafia และนิยาย Mistress ในฉาก Face Slapping

I was at the vineyard with my mother-in-law Teresa Moretti to go over the books when a stack of bills hit me square in the face. "How much can a tax audit even make you?" The blonde woman pointed at the scattered cash, her smile dripping with contempt. "Take the money and get lost. Don't ruin my tasting party." I let out a cold laugh. "What's your name? And who gave you the authority to run this vineyard?" "Monica Moretti." Monica picked at her nails, smirking. "The vineyard was a gift from my husband Luca. So naturally, he's the one who authorized it." I turned to look at Teresa. This vineyard—Luca had bought it behind the family's back just a week ago. Luca is Teresa's only son. And my husband of seven years.

My mother is the Royal duchy and I am her sole heir. My mother was once deceived by my father, which nearly bankrupted our family. That bastard father of mine disappeared without a trace, taking the fortune he'd stolen from my mother and running off with his mistress. To prevent me from falling for the same kind of man in the future—to keep me from being fooled and robbed blind—my mother adopted two war orphans. She planned to raise them as potential husband candidates for me. But mother never knew the truth. These two men appeared respectful and obedient to her arrangements on the surface. But privately, they were both infatuated with my maid Josie. They constantly neglected me and made my life difficult, all to win her favor. My favorite, Marcus Reed, even gave up his own last name. He changed it to Josie's—Marcus Thompson. The betrayal cut deeper than I'd expected. Before mother died, she asked me the question I'd been dreading. "Which one do you want to choose as your husband?" But I had heard something interesting lately. There was a mafia heir—Vincent Rossi—who was notorious for his violence. He'd killed innocent people. Years of brutal fighting had left him severely injured. The doctors said he had less than six months to live. The mafia Rossi family wanted to marry him to a noblewoman before he died. I didn't hesitate to reach out to him. I offered an alliance through marriage. To my surprise, the Rossi family agreed. But on my wedding day, Marcus and the other candidate burst into the ceremony. They begged me to reconsider. "Please, don't do this!" Marcus shouted, his face desperate. "You can't marry him!" I stood there in my wedding dress, looking at the two men who had spent years ignoring me for my maid. Now they wanted me back? How interesting.

My boyfriend, Miles, finally invited me to his family’s Christmas dinner. I passed out on the way there. Half-conscious, I heard him whisper, “Sorry, Eva. Those thugs said you’re just their boss’s type. Too pretty for your own good, babe. Blame that—not me.” “Don’t be scared. If you help me pay off the debt… maybe they’ll let me have you back. I’ll make it up to you. For the rest of your life, I swear.” He wheeled me through the back of a casino. My family’s casino. The boss he was selling me to… was my brother. Ever since our parents died in a crossfire, my brother had taken full responsibility for me. More than a brother, he’d become a father figure—a protector. My stupid boyfriend should be scared—he had no idea how fiercely my brother protected me, or how ruthless he could be to anyone who dared hurt me.

My name is Clara Kelly. I was born in Brooklyn, into an Irish-American cop’s family. My father spent his whole career walking a beat out of the 84th Precinct. My mother volunteered at the parish. I was the first girl on our block to get into Columbia Law. The year I graduated, I was volunteering at a charity gala. I picked up the wrong glass of wine and ended up dumping it down the front of a man’s Brioni suit. That man was Adrian Francesco Moretti. Fourth-generation Don of the Moretti Family of New York, and one of the five families of Cosa Nostra. He chased me for four years. I said no six times. The seventh time, he stood outside my law firm in the rain until three-fifteen in the morning. I married him. Two decades in, he’d handed me the keys to the entire Moretti Family. In our world they called me “the Irish Donna,” a woman with no Italian blood who somehow held the seat. Childless by choice, the two of us. Famously in love. Until that Wednesday afternoon, when my college roommate of twenty years, my best friend Vivian Sinclair, walked into my living room with a five-year-old boy. She said the boy was Adrian’s son. She said that five years ago, she’d taken a used condom out of the wastebasket in my upstairs master bedroom, kept it frozen for three years, and done IVF. She said she was the real mother of the Moretti heir. She was the real Donna Moretti. “Be smart. Pack your bags and walk out. You might even get to keep your life.” “You’re barren. The Moretti Family doesn’t need you.” I looked at the woman I’d called my best friend for half my adult life. I didn’t say a word. She thought she was holding the winning card. What she didn’t know was that she’d just stepped onto a board Adrian and I had been laying for twenty years. I needed exactly one sentence to shatter every piece of the Donna fantasy she’d spent five years building.

On the day of her wedding, Elena Bianchi was left standing alone in a church. For the nineteenth time, Don Giovanni Rossi failed to appear. His excuse was the same as always—Lina was 'dying' again. This time, the humiliation went further. While Elena waited in her wedding dress, a video call arrived. On the screen, the lace veil her mother had left her—the one promise Elena had sworn to keep—was being torn apart by Lina’s dog as Lina laughed and urged it on. Giovanni followed with a careless apology. He promised to buy her a better one. That veil had been the last thing her mother ever gave her. Elena did not cry. She did not argue. Instead, she made a call no one in the Italian underworld dared to make. Seven years later, the Rossi family had fallen. Their power was gone. Their allies had turned away. And Giovanni—once untouchable—stood among the defeated, waiting to receive the Donna of the most powerful Mafia family. He never expected it to be Elena. Now married to Rafael Bellini, Elena was no longer the woman abandoned at the altar. She was Bellini’s Donna—calm, ruthless, and beyond his reach. The veil that had once been fed to a dog had become a crown. And the man who had destroyed her was now her enemy. In a world ruled by bloodlines, loyalty, and vengeance, Elena proved one unbreakable truth: A woman cast aside by a Mafia king did not disappear—she rose, and she returned as his reckoning.

My secret boyfriend, Marco Ross—the fastest rising mafia star in New York—hid a ring in our home. I thought it was for me. Instead, I received a video of him proposing to another woman—Bianco Conti —on our anniversary. The same night, masked men broke in, held me at gunpoint, and forced me to call Marco. A woman answered the call, “Marco, your little orphan is calling again.” Then Marco’s cold tone. “Don’t bother, babe, she’s just your substitute, a stray I keep around, a free woman to warm my bed.” The masked men shot me in the stomach—then fled. What Marco didn’t know? The real Conti heiress… was me. The Bianco he cherished so much… was just an imposter. I once refused to take the Conti name because of Marco, afraid it would ruin us. But if he never cared… why should I? I made one call. “Papa, I’ll come home, take over the business, and accept the marriage alliance—but Bianca has to be go.”

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.

When Damian was eighteen, he could barely afford a decent dinner. Still, he spent half his first commission on the cheapest silver ring in the store for me. He slid it onto my finger, his expression stern. "Wear this for now. When I have a real name, I'll get you a better one." I laughed at how cheap it was, then hid my hand behind my back and refused to give it back. Later, he did get a name. He was the Moretti family's long-lost heir, the man destined to lead its vast empire. But I never got that better ring. Five years ago, on the night a gang war broke out, I dragged a badly wounded Damian out of the fire. I never made it out myself. When he woke, huge pieces of his memory of me were gone. Cecilia Russo sat beside his hospital bed and told him I had despised him for being poor, betrayed him, and even sold the location of our old safe house to the enemy. She also told him she was the one who had saved him. Five years later, my ghost appeared in the final family trial he had to face. By then, another wedding ring sat on his hand. Cecilia was his wife. When his memories returned, he lost his mind.

On my wedding day, Matteo Castello's younger adopted sister, Gisella Castello, delivers me a wedding gift consisting of a worn condom. There's a note pressed underneath said condom. "Lucia, I've already tested Matteo for you. He's really good in bed." I lose my mind on the spot. That night, I sleep with three of Matteo's friends, and I make sure to leave hickeys all over my body. The next morning, Matteo kicks open my room door. Soon, a few sacks are tossed into my room, courtesy of his subordinates. The men whom I've slept with the night before are the ones contained in those sacks. Shocked beyond my wits, I let out a blood-curdling scream. I can barely feel my limbs as I scramble away from those sacks. But Matteo reaches out to grip me by the chin and lift my head forcefully. "What are you afraid of? They were already plotting behind my back. I was worried that I might not be able to deal with them without a proper excuse. What I didn't expect is that you, my dear wife, are sweet and understanding enough to give me a reason for doing so." My head buzzes loudly at that moment. I can feel my blood running cold in my veins. Finally, I realize that this is just a trap that Matteo has set up for me. That's when I completely break down. With tears streaming down my cheeks, I do my best to flee from my room, only to get thrown into the punishment chamber in the end. What he doesn't know is that I'm already pregnant at that time. One year later, the punishment chamber's door is finally opened. Sunlight is cast onto my pale face. Everyone tells me that Matteo is here to take me home. Instead of saying anything, I take my phone and head over to a secluded corner, where I place a phone call. "I got released, Mr. Lombardi. Let's meet up."

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.

Before the day of my husband's succession as the Don, my stepsister personally tattooed the "Inverted Angel's Eye"—the mark of a traitor—onto my back. My husband didn't just turn a blind eye; when the family vendetta broke out, he withdrew all the elite guards to protect my "pregnant" stepsister, leaving me alone in a defenseless city to face the slaughter.  "Elena, you are strong enough to protect yourself. But Sophia is fragile, and she is carrying my firstborn. She needs the protection more than you." Facing a siege of heavy firepower, I survived by the skin of my teeth. He thought I would swallow the insult for the sake of the family's reputation. He didn't expect that I would kick open the doors of his coronation ceremony wearing mourning weeds, flanked by the FBI and the Commission, and personally strip him of his title. "Goodbye, Lorenzo. This time, I choose to be the Don."

On the day I was trying out my wedding gown, a stranger dashed into the VIP room and pushed me hard onto the ground. "I'm the real Mrs. John Curtis. Someone like you, with no money or a strong family behind you, should serve me instead." She looked down on me before kicking my pregnant belly with her sharp heels. The pain blurred my vision and made me break out in a cold sweat. Jolene Nostra crouched next to me and slapped me with the back of her hand. "You were only a jilted lover without wealth or influence, trying to wed into a rich family by getting pregnant." As blood flowed heavily from between my legs, a realization hit me. My fiancé, the person I'd been with for four years, was seeing another woman. "What's this? How dare you give me that look? I could kill you, and nothing would happen to me because I'm Mrs. John Curtis!" As she lunged towards me, I pulled out my phone with trembling hands to call my brother. "Come get me, Anthony. And tell our guys I want the Curtis family gone from South City."

On our 40th wedding anniversary, I discovered that my beloved husband, Derrick, had been cheating on me. Even our marriage certificate had been forged. The woman he cheated with was his foster sister, Jasmine. I confronted Derrick with the evidence, but he only looked irritated. "I've already treated you well enough in this lifetime. Jasmine is my true love. I will marry her and have children with her." Even my son tried to convince me. "Just be grateful. My real parents never went public with their relationship all these years for your sake. You are old now. What else can you do?" That was when I learned the cruel truth. The Mafia heir I had raised with my own hands was not even my biological child. Back then, Jasmine and I gave birth on the same day. To make sure Jasmine's baby would inherit the Mafia family my father left to me, Derrick secretly switched our children. Because of their negligence, my biological child later died from a simple cold. The cruelest irony was that I had raised Jasmine's son as my own and helped him reach the top of the Mafia hierarchy. When the truth finally hit me, I coughed up blood and fainted. When I opened my eyes again, I had gone back in time to the very day I gave birth.

On my 28th birthday, Carl Thorne asked me to meet him at the Moon Goddess statue. He specifically told me to wear a wedding dress and said he was finally going to keep his promise and mark me. But when I arrived in my wedding dress, its train trailing behind me, he turned to the crowd and laughed. "See? I don't even have to mark her. One word from me, and she'll come running. I win. The hunting grounds are mine." Then he raised an eyebrow at me. "Vera, I was only joking. The pack still sees you as their Luna, mark or no mark." When I remained silent, Carl grinned. "If you're so desperate to be marked, why not pick someone here?" The crowd burst out laughing. Everyone knew I was Carl's fated mate, that I was hopelessly in love with him and would never choose another. But when I took my new husband's hand and completed the marking ceremony, Carl went white and froze where he stood.

When I was three months pregnant, my Don husband’s so-called step sister, Ruby, showed up at my door. Her swollen belly was impossible to miss, “Donna, since my due date is so close, I thought you should know… the Don’s heir is in my belly.” She laid everything in front of me—intimate photos of her and Caleb, records of the weekly money transfers he sent her, even the deed to a mansion. The earliest dates traced back to the time I lost our first baby, when the doctors told me it would be difficult for me to conceive again. All these years, I had been enduring IVF treatments, desperately trying to carry our child once more—while he was fooling around with his so-called step sister. Well, if Caleb wanted another woman so badly, he could have her. I had no intention of staying anyway. I was already planning my leave.

I'm the only daughter of Bellmont's most powerful mafia boss. Worried I'll rush into marriage with the wrong man, my father arranges a match between me and Dante Rizzo, the sole heir to the Rizzo family. Today is our engagement party. The moment I walk into the ballroom, I'm about to explain who I am to security when a woman I've never met starts yelling at me. "What are you doing in here? Servers are supposed to be working! Go make yourself useful. If you cause any problems at my brother's engagement party, you'll answer to me." I glance down at my clothes. By sheer coincidence, I'm wearing the same colors as the hotel staff. I open my mouth to explain, but she cuts me off with a look of disgust. "Women like you are pathetic. You see a room full of rich, powerful men and think this is your fairy tale moment? That you can seduce one of them and marry into money? Dream on. "Just look at what you're wearing. Do you seriously think you belong at an event like this? Now get back to work before I have you thrown out!" For a moment, I'm too stunned to respond. She's going to have me thrown out? From my own engagement party?

On the day my sight returned, our family doctor, Anna Leone, stood right in front of me and mouthed to my husband, Don Marco Vitale, "Double the lubricant tonight. I promise it'll send you straight to heaven, my Don." Marco pressed a gentle kiss to my eyes. Then he turned away and replied with the same silent lip movements, "You little tease. That mouth of yours—and the one below—I'm crazy about them both." The two of them exchanged a knowing smile, convinced their secret was flawless. What they didn't know was that not only had my vision fully recovered—I was also fluent in lip-reading. My gaze drifted to the bottle of lubricant sitting brazenly in the wall cabinet. I said nothing. Instead, I quietly sent a single text message: [Papa, I've decided to come home.] In three days, I would vanish completely. All I would leave behind for them would be the hollowed-out fortune of billions—and that bottle of "lubricant" I had replaced with high-strength industrial superglue.

When I pushed through the main door, covered in blood, I found my amnesiac husband right on top of my best friend. His arm was wrapped around her waist with practiced ease, and she was passionately reciprocating his advances. "Ada will be devastated if she finds out…" Camilla said in a sweet voice through bated breaths. "After all, she really thinks you've lost your memories." Lucio chuckled softly and said in a mocking tone, "It's not my fault she loves me that much. Then again, it's a good thing for me since I can just let her do all the tough and dirty work." He leaned down and planted a kiss on Camilla's lips, mumbling, "Right now, you're the only one I recognize as my wife. Just wait. Once I sign the deal with the Della Veras, I'll have her kicked out and pass everything she owns to you. After all, I no longer remember a thing." Only then did it hit me. My husband's amnesia was all an act, a farce to fool me. Moreover, my best friend conspired with him to stab me in the back. Too bad they didn't know that the Della Vera family, the most feared Mafia family in Ritelle, only acknowledged one person: Me, Ada Rossi.

I've been in a secret relationship with Declan Gibson for five years, and I've tried to seduce him more times than I can count. Yet, when I stand in front of him in my birthday suit and a pair of bunny ears, all he does is worry that I'll catch a cold and wrap me in a blanket. I used to think his restraint came from being the mafia don, that he was saving our first time for our wedding night. However, one month before the ceremony, he secretly plans the city's grandest fireworks show to celebrate his childhood sweetheart's birthday. They hug and share a slice of cake in public. That night, they check into a hotel. … The next morning, I watch them leave together. That's when I realize Declan is not restrained. He just doesn't love me, so I walk out of the hotel. I call my parents. "Dad, I've broken up with Declan. I'll marry into the Sullivan family as planned." My father is stunned. "I thought you were madly in love with Declan. Why did you break up? I heard Bryson can't have children. You've always loved kids. What will you do once you marry him?" "It's fine," I reply, disheartened. "We can always adopt."

The day before my engagement, my childhood friend, Leonardo Rossi, took my private yacht without asking and left me stranded on the island where I was vacationing. When I called and demanded he bring it back, he snapped. "Julia, I'm marrying Anna. She's going to be my wife. If you behave yourself, I might keep you around as my mistress." A storm hit, and I barely made it off the island alive. Once I reached shore, I rushed to the most luxurious hotel in Port Haven. Leonardo and Anna Bianchi were there to celebrate the engagement of the Don of the Vaccaro family, the most powerful mafia family in Belloria. He wore a tailored suit, and she wore an elegant gown. When Leonardo spotted me in the lobby in a black coat, he scowled and grabbed my arm. He pulled me into a corner and lowered his voice. "Julia, this is the Vaccaro family's engagement party. If you make a scene, you're only going to embarrass yourself. Anna's going to be my wife. You need to know your place." I pulled my arm free and went back to waiting for my dress to arrive. Little did he know, I was the one marrying the Don of the Vaccaro family.