Familial Bond Mafia 단편 소설 & Mistress 소설

I was vacationing in St. Moritz, Switzerland with my mother when Vivian from the Valenti family office sent me a photo. The woman in it lay on the cold marble floor of the estate, her coat stripped away, her body covered in blood. No one stood near her, as if she had already been set aside like a problem to be dealt with. It was hard to tell if she was still breathing. A voice message followed, her tone sharp and controlled. “Elena, don’t assume that marrying the Don and being called Donna means your small-town family can step onto Valenti property.” “The lakeside estate Mr. Valenti just acquired is a family asset. Letting someone like your mother stay there breaks rules.” “I act on the Don’s behalf. It is my responsibility to remove people who should not be there.” “This is what happens when someone crosses a line.” I went still. Then I looked up at my mother sitting across from me. She held her tea, calm as ever. I lowered my eyes and enlarged the photo. The moment I saw the woman’s face, my chest tightened. It was not my mother. It was Luca’s. I called Vivian immediately. “Have you lost your mind? That’s Luca’s mother.” She gave a light laugh, her tone cool and distant. “Mr. Valenti has always been clear. Your mother is yours. His mother is his.” “The Valenti family does not take in outsiders.” “You may be Donna, but that does not mean your family steps inside with you.”

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.

From the moment my mafia husband, Alessio Vitale, brings his childhood friend, Mia Santoro, and her son into our home, everything changes. While our son, Luca Vitale, is sick in the hospital with a fever, Alessio takes Mia's son to Wonderland Park to celebrate his birthday. When I call, all I hear on the other end is the sound of laughter and celebration. Alessio's voice is mixed in with it, gentle and almost chiding, as if I'm the one being unreasonable. "He doesn't have a father, and he's already got it hard enough. Don't overthink it." I don't call him again. That night, I place a divorce agreement in front of Alessio. "Don't see Mia more than three times in the next two weeks," I say. "Otherwise, we're getting a divorce." He looks at me and smiles. "That's it? It's that simple?" I nod. It is indeed simple, so straightforward that I already know he'll choose Mia every single time. All I have to do is wait for those two weeks to pass, then I'll take Luca and leave.

Before I realized it, I’d become the invisible wife standing beside my mafia Don husband, Adrian Kane. A stay-at-home mom buried in chores while my husband paraded around with his secretary, Viola, ten years younger than me. “She’s smart,” Adrian said once. “She knows how to help me.” Tonight marked our tenth anniversary. I saw an elegant designer dress and a necklace presenting in the living room. For a second, I was happy. Looks like Adrian finally decided to take me to this year’s annual mafia gathering and introduce me as his Donna. Turns out the dress and the jewelry was for Viola. Later that night, I caught Adrian sneaking in with Viola—both drunk, hands all over each other like I didn’t exist. I just made one phone call. “I will join the Doctors Without Borders program. Send me away.” Before I married Adrian, I had a future in medicine. But I gave it all up for him. Now? It was time to choose myself and leave behind everything that was never really mine.

Tonight Daddy said he was going out with Auntie Benita, and Mommy didn’t fight him about it. She had a handkerchief balled up in her hand, soaked through with the blood she kept coughing up. I knew Mommy was going to heaven soon. That was how Grandpa told me it would be, back when Grandma coughed up blood like this. Daddy looked at Mommy, narrowed his eyes, and his voice went cold. “Isa needs a whole family. A smart woman learns to look the other way.” Mommy didn’t shield me and argue back the way she used to. She just said, softly, “Fine. I’ll charge by the visit. Every night you spend with her is one million.” Daddy laughed and wired her the money. After that night, Daddy went out a lot, and every time, Mommy reminded him to send the money. Mommy got so thin that her cheeks caved in, but her eyes were still bright. She took me lots of places, introduced me to lots of people, and made me write my own name over and over. She said she was going to leave everything to me. I held her tight. “I don’t want your things, Mommy. I just want you.”

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.”

After I got pregnant, Severin Voss went from a ruthless Don to a devoted husband who cooked for me. He cut off all contact with Vivian Lane and banished her from Voss territory. He had never liked children, yet now he shadowed the estate's most experienced housekeeper every day, learning how to care for a baby. He even learned how to cook for an expectant mother. He had a prenatal meal plan tailored to my needs and prepared every dish himself. It was as if he'd never had anything to do with Vivian, as if we were still as close as ever. When my mother came to visit, she marveled, "There's never been a Don in all of Sicily who's such a family man. "You should consider yourself lucky to have married him. Stop dwelling on his past mistakes." I smiled and agreed, then ate the lunch Severin had made just for me. An hour later, I was rushed to a private hospital, doubled over in pain. By the time I came out of surgery, my baby was gone. Three days later, Severin returned from a business trip, looking exhausted and travel-worn. A blissful smile still lingered on his face. "Honey, I learned some new pregnancy-friendly recipes. They're even more nutritious than the old ones. If you stick to them, I know your delivery will go smoothly. "I'll start making them for you tomorrow, okay?" When I didn't respond, Severin's gaze finally dropped from my pale face to my flat stomach. In that instant, his smile vanished.

Drugs disappeared during one of our family’s deals—and everyone knew it was my stepsister, Emily’s fault. Now, our rivals demanded someone be sent to them, held captive until the debt was repaid. My fiancé, my family—they all agreed it should be me. “Emily already got hurt in the mission. You are stronger. You can handle it while we figure things out.” I knew this moment was coming. And so I signed my name. In five days, I’d be sent away. And I have decided that no matter what happened—whether I lived or died—I was done with my family and my fiancé. In those last days, I gave everything I owned away. The casino? To my stepsister, who had always eyed it with envy. My checking account? To my father, who never missed a chance to remind me how useless I was. The engagement ring? Back to the man who’d been fake as hell. They didn’t notice anything off. They just smiled, pleased with how thoughtful I’d suddenly become. When they realized I was gone for good—and that their fragile Emily was their undoing—would they still smile like that? Would they still look so content?