Mga Maiikling Kuwento at Nobelang Plot Twists Mafia Scumbag

Five days before my wedding, a group of MadeMen drag me to an underground casino. "I'm the fiancé of Lorenzo Gambino, Don of the Gambino family and Gambino Corporation! Think of the consequences you'll face if you dare touch a hair on my head!" My stern warning is met by mocking laughter. I curl up in agony under the brutal blows of their baseball bats; they pierce my ankles with sharp blades, severing my tendons. I gather the remnants of my consciousness to shield my abdomen, where my and Lorenzo's child grows. Lorenzo finally arrives with hired mercenaries. He razes the underground casino to the ground and saves me. I lie on the hospital bed and force myself to hang on. I don't want to end up in a coma. Unexpectedly, I overhear Lorenzo's conversation with a doctor. "It's not too late to operate, Boss. If we delay this any longer, Ms. Jones won't be able to stand anymore! There are many other ways for you to marry Ms. Valente—why did you have to do this to Ms. Jones?" "Being crippled is the only way Renee will obediently accept my and Kelly's child. I can keep a cripple by my side but not a troublemaker. Kelly values ceremony more than anything—I promised her I would give her a perfect wedding," Lorenzo says coldly. "But… Ms. Jones is pregnant. She's four months along…" "Make her miscarry, then." Tears stream down my face without anyone noticing. It turns out no one wants to bless the wedding I've been looking forward to. If so, any woman who wants to be Lorenzo's wife can have him. He's just a small mafia boss, anyway. I'm going back to being the heiress of the East Coast mafia's Don. I'll be the queen of my own life.

I've gotten abandoned by my parents one week after my birth. In order to survive, I quickly call whoever picks me up "papa". The bigshots who are here for the gathering swap glances with each other. "Whose child is this? If no one wants her, then I'll adopt her." "Put her down! She called me 'papa' first!" Since then, I have 99 dads. Other than the fact that I have an extremely boisterous family, I make sure to keep to myself for the next dozen years or so. That is, until I get bullied during my high school times. Viola Mariani, the most popular girl in school, and her lackeys corner me in the washroom. Then, they start ripping my clothes off me. "So, you're the one seducing my boyfriend, hmm? Since you want to be a whore that badly, you might as well show everyone your nudes!" Since the beating I've received is a lot worse than I thought, I subconsciously shove Viola down the stairs just to protect myself. When I wake up in the infirmary, my teacher, Marianna Pagani, lashes out at me immediately. "So what if she berated you? Are you really going to kill her for that? I want you to call your parents here! I'd like to see who on earth is capable of raising an idiot like you!" Panic seizes me by the senses as I cry and plead to her, "Ms. Pagani, please don't tell my dad about this!"

Before a gathering of New York's underworld Families, I slipped into the vintage Chanel gown my mother had left me. As I looked in the mirror, my seven-year-old daughter suddenly said, "Mommy, it doesn't matter what you wear. You're always the ugliest one." Just like that, all the joy the gown had brought me disappeared. It wasn't the first time my daughter had said something cruel. Once, the FBI took me in for questioning and kept me for three days. The moment I got home, I wrapped her in my arms and asked if she'd missed me. She only shrugged. "No, Mommy. You're too stupid. Smart people don't get caught." My husband, Vincent, said sternly, "You can't talk to her like that. We're a family." I asked carefully, "If Mommy's so stupid, will you take care of me, sweetheart?" My daughter spread her hands. "Not me. Daddy said this family doesn't feed freeloaders." I was too stunned to speak. She just smiled at me, all innocence. "Don't be mad, Mommy. I'm only telling the truth." Every time she hurt me, she always added those same words. No matter how much it hurt, I kept telling myself she was simply too young to understand. That she didn't truly mean to hurt me. Until the day she smugly posted one of her "honest truths" on TikTok, hoping the whole internet would judge me. This time, she would regret telling the truth for the rest of her life.

My little sister was murdered by her kidnappers. I watched it all happen and never said a word about who did it. My mother got on her knees and begged me. I didn't flinch. When my father threatened me with his authority as the Don, I walked away from my place as the Family heir. I moved to a small town down south. Eight years later, I was dying of a terminal illness, and my older sister, Beth Turner, had taken over the Family. Under her, the Turners had become the most powerful mafia family on the East Coast. The first thing she did when she found me was have me dragged back to the Family's tribunal. "Selena Turner, you ungrateful snake. Mia called you her sister for all those years, and you still won't name the kidnapper. "Mia's been dead for years. Don't you feel any guilt at all?!" I was on my knees in the great hall. I couldn't speak. "After all these years, I can finally extract your memories. Today, I'm going to see exactly who you've been protecting. I will avenge Mia." She ordered her men to restrain me and hook up the extractor. On the screen above the banquet hall, a face suddenly appeared. The room erupted into chaos, and Beth's face went deathly pale.

"Tap more ash into his cup. He needs to understand this isn't the place for an idiot like him." I went to the break room at lunch to fill my water bottle. The second I walked in, I saw Santo and his crew gathered around my mug, ruining it. Ash coated the rim, and cigarette butts floated in the coffee. The sight turned my stomach. My folder lay on the floor with a few black boot prints across it. Santo raised an eyebrow when he saw me. "Good. You saw it. We don't feed idiots here. Go back where you came from. "You've got one week to leave on your own. After that, I have plenty of ways to make you disappear." I said coldly, "You don't call the shots at these docks." Tony, Santo's right-hand man, laughed, pulled out a gun, and tapped it against my temple once, then again. "You'll find out soon enough whether my word means anything. "You crossed Santo, and you still think you can stay? Dream on!" The others sneered, and every one of them slammed a shoulder into mine on the way out. I watched them go and smiled a little. They have no idea who I really am. And they certainly don't know that one word from me is all it would take to make Santo disappear from this world.