Plot Twists Mafia Short Stories & Mistress Novels

I've been in love for six years, but my wedding has been called off 99 times by the man who claims to love me most, the mafia boss, Daniel Reed. The first time is on a private island off the coast of Sorellia. He promises me a secret wedding. But an hour before the ceremony, he gets a call saying that his new assistant, Emily Jennings, has been taken by a rival family. Without a word, he leaves me behind and sails off into the night. The second time, we're standing at the altar, exchanging vows. His underboss then leans in and whispers, "Emily's in trouble." Daniel tears off his boutonniere and walks out without looking back. Emily has been kidnapped again—this time, near the border district. He leads an armed raid that very night while I'm left behind, becoming the laughingstock in the mafia's VIP lounges. No matter when I schedule the wedding, Emily always ends up in danger. And Daniel always runs to her without hesitation. Eventually, I realize I will never win against the reckless Gen Z assistant who constantly drags him into chaos. After the 99th cancellation, I decide to break up with him and disappear from Valemont. I move out overnight, erase every trace of myself, leaving nothing behind. But I never expect him to go completely mad. He shuts down the ports, searches every villa, and unleashes his entire family's intelligence network just to find me. His eyes burn red like a wild animal on the edge of collapse. "Elara," he growls, "just give me one more chance."

Within 30 days, Niccolò Romano and I registered for divorce 18 times. The first time, Niccolò's adopted sister stole my research results, but he hired a lawyer to fight for her. Afterwards, he held me and coaxed, "If something happens to Lia, no one will dare to hire her in the future. I'm just helping her." The second time, while my plane was in distress, he was traveling around the world with Lia. His tone was helpless: "Lia has depended on me since she was little. I only look after her like a younger sister." The last time, Lia was pregnant with a child no one would claim, and he took responsibility for it. Faced with my accusation, he just sighed, a bit tired: "Lia's career is just starting to take off. If someone blackmails her with the child, her life will be ruined." "You're a woman too. Can't you understand?" This time, I didn't cry or make a scene. Instead, I calmly signed my name on the divorce agreement that he had signed in a fit of pique some time ago. Then I called my professor: "I've thought it over. I'm willing to go with you to Iceland to do research."

Three days before my wedding, Adrian canceled it for the fifty-second time. He came to the Palermo workshop to approve my gown’s crest embroidery, but the moment I stepped out from the fitting curtain, he snatched up his holster and radio. “Torino bastards smashed Bianca’s vineyard, surrounded the estate. Lia’s terrified, so I have to go. The wedding is off.” Once, I would have stopped him and demanded to know who mattered more to him, me or Bianca. This time, I simply let him go. Thirty minutes later, Bianca posted an Instagram Story: [You’re the only shelter for me and my daughter.] The photo showed Adrian holding Bianca close, with Lia in his arms, calling him Dad. They looked like a real family. My parents sighed. “Seraphina, is the wedding in Hawaii off again? We’ve already sent the invitations to every renowned Italian family. What will this do to the Bellini family’s honor?” I shook my head, tapping the backup invite. "The wedding goes on.  In three days, I’ll still be a bride. Just not Adrian’s."

I’m Isabella Russo, the mafia princess everyone loves to hate. Adrian Moretti—ice-cold underboss in a tailored suit—was sent to “discipline” me. I torched his villa, wrecked his meetings, even tried to make him lose control. At night, he did. Against glass, leather, marble—he taught me surrender and I hated how much I craved it. Then I learned the truth: Adrian was only a mask. His real name is Leon Moretti—heir to the empire and the fiancé promised to me since birth. It should have been a fairytale. Except my parents crowned a miracle sister who wasn’t a miracle at all. Elena slipped into my room, my heirloom, my future—and into his arms. When I was framed, caged in a walk-in freezer, whipped for a lie, he chose her. So I sold the engagement for $200M, left a single recording as proof, and vanished. By the time Leon becomes Don, he finally listens—to the tape that proves Elena’s an impostor… and to the echo of my footsteps leaving him for good. Now the most dangerous man in New York is done being careful. He’s hunting the woman he broke.

When my mother went into kidney failure and needed a transplant, it was Pauline Maynard—on the brink of death herself—who gave my mom a second chance at life. Just before Pauline passed, she gripped my hand tightly and whispered her final words. "Summer, Ricky is my only son. He's rebellious… and fragile. Please, take care of him. Just three years, please?" I gave her my word. Then I moved into their home and gave Ricky everything he needed—love, comfort, a sense of safety. For three years, I stayed true to that promise. By the third year, Ricky had transformed. No longer the wayward boy he once was, he rose to become the Mafia Don Ricky Lenza. And I was carrying his child. As I busied myself with wedding plans, I overheard something I was never meant to hear—his voice, low and mocking, as he wrapped another woman in his arms. "Summer? She's just pretending to love me for the sake of my mother's inheritance and a stupid deal. A gold digger like her dreams of marrying me? What a joke." A sharp pain pierced my chest, like thorns stabbing deep beneath the skin. On the way to a prenatal checkup, we were hit in a crash. My baby didn't make it. And my mother, sitting in the passenger seat, shielded me with her life. When I woke up, I stared blankly at the date on my phone. Three days left. That would've marked the end of the three-year promise. I realized then—I'd paid my debt to Pauline in full. It was time for me to go.

I once believed Adrian DeLuca was the most dependable man in a dangerous world. We had been engaged for years. Before family dinners, major investments, or decisions that could affect the balance between powerful families, I usually asked for his opinion. I believed that was what two people building a life together were supposed to do. I believed he would always stand beside me. Eventually, Adrian grew tired of being needed. He wanted me to trust my own judgment, stop asking about his schedule, and stop bringing every concern to him. At the same time, he gave his patience and protection to Mia Caruso, a newly graduated intern at the family hospital. She wore his coat, used things that belonged to me, answered his phone from a hotel room, then smiled and reminded me that Adrian only saw her as someone he needed to protect. So I became exactly as independent as he wanted. I stopped reporting my plans. I stopped waiting for him to come home. I stopped needing his protection. That was when Adrian finally became afraid.

My husband, Don Reginald, and my parents threw me in prison on the very night I gave him his heir. All because my sister, Felicia, set me up. She claimed I gave her a wild horse at the family races—a horse she knew she couldn't handle. It went crazy. It trampled a senator to death. With the FBI breathing down our necks, the whole family made me take the fall. Three years. Reginald didn't care that I'd just had our son. He pushed me. Over and over. "It was your horse. If you hadn't given it to her, the Feds wouldn't be after Felicia. Just do the time. When you get out, you'll still be my Donna." Three years later, I came back. Nothing had changed. They still chose her. Even the son I bled for now calls Felicia "Mama." He looks right through me, his own mother. I didn't fight. Not like the old me. I just walked away. But when I finally vanished for good, Reginald lost his mind. He tore the world apart, begging me to come back. To be his Donna again.

Antonio Rivera finally finds out that I haven't asked him for money in a week. For once, he sends me a text message to compliment me. "Darling, you've finally learned how to become a good Donna. I've had my men deliver this week's worth of miracle drugs to your mother's ward. As long as you remain docile and don't be greedy, I'll give you anything you want." What he doesn't know is that I'm printing out a divorce agreement when I receive his message while wearing an old dress from three years ago. No one will believe that I, the Donna of the Rivera family, have to ask Antonio's Consigliere, Elena Gallo, for money even when I need to buy myself some tampons. Hell, I have to apply for a leave request three days in advance if I wish to leave my home. Antonio keeps telling me that he's doing this to protect me. "It's too dangerous outside, sweetheart. All you have to do is stay at home like a good girl you are." But one week ago, Mom's illness took a turn for the worse. I begged Elena to skip the request and let me out of the villa. Elena, however, dragged out my request for seven long days. Only when Mom died did she finally permit me to leave. Miracle drugs? My mom is already dead. I'm no longer tolerating anyone or anything anymore.

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."

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.

When Rocco Morelli, a mafia don, finds me, it's when I'm working as a stripper at an illegal bar, pleasing the men around me with sultry smiles and provocative dances. He throws his jacket over me and grabs me by the jaw, saying, "Come home with me." From that day onward, I fell in love with Rocco. After doting on me for five years, he proposes to me. Yet, in the month leading up to the wedding, he suddenly disappears. I launch a frenzied search for him before eventually seeing him in a jewelry boutique. With his arm wrapped around the dolled-up woman beside him, he picks out a 20-carat wedding ring. That woman is Emilia Leone, who is my father's illegitimate daughter. He stares at her, his eyes filled with affection. "I'll prepare the grandest wedding ceremony for you." "What about Cassandra?" Emilia asks with a coy smile. "You proposed to her, too." Snorting, Rocco replies scornfully, "Can't you tell? That's just my way of toying with her. Her older brother nearly took your life. Now that he's gone missing, it's only right for her to suffer the consequences in his place. "On our wedding day, I'll abandon her at the altar and marry you instead. She'll become the laughingstock in all of Langshore. Only you, the daughter of the Leone family, the largest mafia family, are worthy of me." The wedding day arrives, and I skip out on the ceremony as well. At Rocco and Emilia's wedding ceremony, I broadcast 99 photos of Emilia fooling around with other men. He panics and tearfully begs for me to return to him, but I take the gun my brother hands me and point it at his head, saying, "Actually, I'm the real daughter of the Leone family."

To protect his biological child, the mafia Don deliberately announces to the world that my fiance is his long-lost son. A Rolls-Royce pulls up outside my house. My fiance stares at his custom-tailored suit, his entire body trembling with excitement. I'm about to tell him it's all a lie when he shoves me aside and brushes off his sleeves with disgust, like he's touching something filthy. "Stay away from me. I can smell the poverty on you from here!" "Since I'm the Don's son, our engagement is over. An unwanted nobody like you isn't even fit to lick my boots." I try to explain, but he pulls out a check and slams it against my face—the sharp paper edge slices across my cheek. "Here's a million dollars. Consider it a breakup fee, and don't bother me again. We're not from the same world anymore." Watching the check flutter down into the mud, I quietly dim my phone screen. On it is a text from my father, the mafia Don. "Mia cara figlia, bear with it a little longer. Papa will bring you home soon to take over the family." Since he wants to burn every bridge between us, fine. He can have all this fortune on a silver platter. Whether he'll live long enough to enjoy it is another question entirely.

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.

For six years, everyone in the Vistari family had known the rule: if shots rang out, get me out first. My boyfriend, Leon Vistari, was the head of the family. He'd given that order himself. But at a party held for his ex, Catherine Ricci, the champagne tower collapsed. Glass shattered. Every bodyguard rushed past me to shield her and get her to the emergency exit. The crowd knocked me down. My right hand landed on broken glass. Leon arrived, made sure Catherine was safe, then finally looked down and noticed me sitting in a pool of my own blood. "Catherine has been through a shooting before. Sounds like that make her freeze up." "The doctor said if the cuts had been any deeper, I might never have been able to use a scalpel again." He was quiet for a moment. When he spoke, he didn't sound the least bit sorry. "But you're fine now, aren't you?" Suddenly, I laughed. I didn't shake with fear. I always got through things on my own. Apparently, that meant I deserved to be left behind. Six years ago, he'd ordered everyone to protect me first. Six years later, he'd told them to save another woman instead. That night, I called a number I hadn't contacted in six years. "I'll agree to the arranged marriage." Leon thought I'd keep giving in. This time, I was done. In three days, I would marry his greatest rival—the man he wanted dead more than anyone in the world.

I've been reborn back to the day my husband, Logan Lane, cheats on me. The first thing I do is request my colleague, Emma Kerr, to switch shifts with me at work. In my previous lifetime, Logan slept with my best friend, Yvonne Colton, behind my back. Since the toys they had used in their session were far too intense, their bodies ended up getting stuck together, so they had to be sent to the ER. Emma performed a surgery on them. Logan and Yvonne were fine after that. Upon receiving the news, I couldn't accept reality at all. I cried so much that I ended up fainting. When I woke up, Logan sent me a document. The document stated that if I were to demand a divorce, I couldn't take a single cent with me. That meant I had to give up on all of my assets. I refused to do so. But Logan merely chuckled coldly in return. "Mariella, Yvonne and I are just friends with benefits. You're the one who insists on getting a divorce, which makes you the one ruining our family. It's only natural that you can't take a single cent with you." I tried to go to the court to prove that Logan was the one cheating on me in our marriage. I even tried to file for a divorce there as well. But then, I found out that someone had already deleted the security footage in the hospital during my collapse. This left me without any solid evidence at all. On the day I lost the court case, Logan didn't hesitate to rub salt into my wound. "Just give up already, Mariella. So what if you have evidence and videos of my infidelity? You're just a regular doctor in the ER, whereas I'm the CEO of Lane Group. I'm the one who earned all of the assets. In fact, I have to give you extra money every month because that meager salary of yours can't sustain you at all. Who would rule in your favor anyway?" I couldn't do anything about Logan's underhanded ways at all. In order to stay with him, I had already cut off all ties with my dad and my family, who happened to be the only support I had in my life, a long time ago. Feeling extremely defeated, I wandered on the street in a daze. That was how I got run over by a speeding truck. When I open my eyes again, I've gotten reborn. The first thing I do is to switch shifts with Emma.

After I divorced the mafia boss, he pleaded outside my house on bended knees for us to get back together. Apparently, it struck him that I was the only one for him. To win me back, he dropped every lover he kept on the side and made a spectacle of his love across the city. At our wedding, he lit the sky with fireworks to show the city of Naples that he had me back in his life again. All envious eyes were on me as I completely had his heart. The eve of our first Valentine’s Day together after our second wedding, I went for a hospital check-up, only to find that I was expecting. With the pregnancy test result in hand, I wanted to share the good news with him right away, but I ran into him taking another woman with a bump for a prenatal appointment. The doctor congratulated them on their newborn, due next week. The woman was a childhood friend of his. As it turned out, he begged me for another shot at marriage while impregnating another behind my back. His proclamation of undying love was nothing more than lies to keep me sweet. I didn’t cry, nor did I raise hell. All I did was take out my entire savings to stage a plane crash to fake my death. Since a divorce couldn’t free me from him, I’d make him lose me forever. By the time he realized that I was carrying his child, the only thing he’d have left of me was a death certificate.

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.

Three days before my wedding with Luca D'Angelo, I accidentally stumble upon him having an affair with my best friend, Delila Rusconi. Delila can be seen sitting on Luca's lap in his office. She caresses his chin in a seductive manner. "Delila, I told you before that Katerina must never find out about our affair!" Luca pinches Delila's fingers together, his voice carrying a strong hint of warning. Delila just giggles before kissing his hand. She replies flippantly, "I know, I know. You have no choice but to marry her in order to gain control over the coastal port trades. I completely understand." I inhale sharply before fleeing the scene in panic. Tears brim in my eyes instantly. I can't believe that Luca, the man who's loved and doted on me for three whole years, has chosen to marry me solely just to make more profits despite the fact that we only get to know each other because of a marriage alliance. The future plans I have in store for us, as well as my rose-tinted fantasies about romance, are completely shattered because of the scene I've just witnessed. Tears continue to stream down my cheeks as I call my dad on the phone. "Papa, I'll heed your order and give up on the marriage alliance with the D'Angelos. I'll return to Chitchily in three days and carry out my responsibilities as a family member."

At the Colonetti family banquet in New York, I stood in the center of the grand hall with more than a dozen girls from different families, all of us waiting to be chosen. Victor, the heir of the Colonetti family, was supposed to announce his fiancée tonight. Along with that announcement, he would present her with the family heirloom, a lily brooch. As an illegitimate daughter of the family, I understood that if I didn’t receive that brooch tonight, it meant I would be sent to Chicago for an arranged marriage. Victor, who had once promised to marry me, changed his mind without warning. With a smile, he pinned the lily brooch onto the chest of the woman standing beside me instead. Then, he leaned close to my ear and whispered, “Let your sister Emily have her moment today. She’s also an illegitimate daughter like you, and she’s also never been valued growing up. Don’t worry. With me here, no one will force you into an arranged marriage.” Even as I looked at him with pleading eyes, he reached out and let Emily take his arm. “Emily is kind and gracious,” he said. “She deserves the lily brooch.” Those words—kind and gracious—turned me into the joke of the entire evening. The next day, I boarded a flight to Chicago alone, but Victor panicked. He used every connection he had and managed to ground every flight heading to Chicago.

My stepsister Victoria had fastened my sapphire cufflink to her bracelet and was about to become the Donna of the Corleone family when the most feared Don in Europe called a halt to the wedding. His voice was cold and low. "You're not the one I'm marrying. How could I ever fail to recognize the person who saved my life? The moment I first laid eyes on her, everything about her was burned into my memory." "Victoria, who are you really?" An uproar swept through the hall of European elites. Victoria tightened her grip on the sapphire cufflink, fighting to keep her trembling voice steady. "Caine, are you sure you haven't made a mistake?" Of course she hoped he was wrong. Ten years ago, in that suffocating cellar, the person who pulled him out of the grip of his claustrophobia and saved his life was me. The person who smashed the lock open until my hands were covered in blood was me. The person whose hand he'd pressed that sapphire cufflink into, the one he'd made the focus of his lifelong devotion, was me too. But just days ago, my stepmother Camilla had pinned me to the ground, ripped the cufflink away from me, and shoved it into Victoria's palm. She told me. "Elena, your sister is prettier and has a better personality. If she marries the Don, our Santini family can finally rise to power." In my last life, I believed their lies. I was locked in a cramped servant's room, watching Victoria take credit for what I had done and become the most glamorous Donna in all of Europe. Later, terrified the truth would come out, Victoria and my own father tied me up in the basement. Then she drove a knife straight through my heart. As I drew my last breath, the sapphire cufflink that should have been mine was still glittering from the bracelet on her wrist. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the exact moment they stole my keepsake. This time, I contacted that terrifying Mafia Don before anyone else could. I swore to take back everything that belonged to me.