Scumbag Mafia Short Stories & Face Slapping Novels

In the Gallo family’s private jewelry workshop. The wedding ring I’d waited six months for was on another woman’s finger. Gia’s hand. An international supermodel my fiancé, the Don of the Gallo family, was having an affair with. The workshop director stood by, a cold sweat soaking his back as he looked at Maximo on the sofa. Maximo stood up. He took Gia’s hand, lifting it to the light to admire the ring, his tone leaving no room for argument. “She’s walking in a major show in Paris next week. She needs this to make an impression on the haute couture scene. The family vault is full of jewels. Pick something else. Don't be dramatic.” Under the harsh lights, Gia admired herself in the mirror, her smile haughty and triumphant. I looked at my own reflection. Cashmere sweater and jeans. I didn’t belong here. This wedding, a year in the making, suddenly felt like a joke. I'm not upset. I just canceled the custom wedding dress along the way. “Maximo. The other jewels are perfectly fine.So I’m not getting married.”

I took the casino business Angelina, my stepsister, had always wanted. The very next day, the heir of the Corleone family who was Angelina's childhood companion knocked on my door. With that deep, captivating face, he asked, “Principessa Annelise, what’s the point of those bloody businesses? Why don’t I take you to enjoy a life of real pleasure?” So, I agreed without hesitation. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I sealed those lips I had long wanted to taste. After that, I began frequently skipping internal mafia meetings. I let the businesses in my hands fall into decline, little by little. I spent extravagantly. Every day, I only cared about indulging in pleasure with Lorenzo in high-end clubs and private yachts. That was until my father, the don, fell gravely ill. The night before the family leaders gathered to choose the new don, he served me in bed and asked me to hand over control of the family to Angelina at the meeting. I knew that was his true purpose for approaching me. However, this time, I only quietly touched the don’s ring hidden beneath my pillow, the symbol of the family’s highest power. “You’ve given me a great experience this past year. But the power of the don is too tempting. For the next game, I won’t be playing with you.”

Before my grandfather, the Don of the Rinaldi family, dies, he leaves behind a will. The five Principessas of the Rinaldi family are forbidden from using our family name. We must live like ordinary people until one of us gives birth to the first heir. Whoever does so will inherit everything. For three years, I keep my identity hidden. My husband, Oliver Wright, and I live in a cramped apartment to the south of Windmere. Every morning, we squeeze onto the subway to get to work. When we're short on money, we stay up late making plans and racking our brains trying to keep his small company afloat. I never think life is hard because I love him. One day, the doctor hands me my medical test results—I am the first one to become pregnant. Upon learning this, my whole body trembles with excitement. The life that Oliver and I have struggled toward for years suddenly feels within reach. I drive home with a happy smile on my face as I imagine how he will react. But when I push the door open, I see a woman wearing my favorite nightgown. She is sitting with Oliver, sharing the apple I left in the refrigerator with him. He takes a bite from her hand and glances at me casually. "My first love, Maeve Young, is back. Let's get a divorce." My fingers tighten around the pregnancy test report. Then, I smile and say, "Sure." What he doesn't know is that his penniless, patient, obedient, and endlessly forgiving wife has a last name powerful enough to open every door in Windmere. I will keep this child, and the family fortune will still pass to me. As for my husband, Oliver? I'm ready to let him go.

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.

On the day of the funeral, Marcus asked me to share him with his sisters-in-law. The moment the news broke, Selena, the eldest brother's wife, hurled her wine glass to the floor. Vivian, the second brother's wife, raised her voice and tore into Marcus for having no sense of decency. But the Hartley family's men dropped to their knees, begging the two widows to become Marcus’s mistresses, to carry on the bloodline in honor of their fallen husbands. I stood off to the side watching, and something in me snapped. I shoved through the crowd, slammed my hands on the long table, and demanded to know exactly what Marcus thought I was to him. I called him no better than a thug. Then I turned on the two sisters-in-law, called them frauds in widow's clothing, and by the end I'd said something unforgivable to just about everyone in that room. After that, I couldn't let it go. I hired a lawyer and sued them for fraud, for a staged marriage. They turned it around on me and said I was plotting to swallow the entire Hartley estate and drive what was left of the family into the ground. My father's business was sabotaged again and again. Three key shipping routes went dark. The dockyard was seized. I was thrown out of the estate and died in a damp basement in Sicily, with no doctor and no family. The landlord found me when he came to collect rent. I only learned the truth after I died. They'd been working together all along. His public reveal of the mistress was merely meant to drive me to snap, giving him a valid excuse to end our marriage. Then I opened my eyes. I was back in that living room, on that same day. The portraits of the two brothers sat on the long table. Selena stood in a black dress, eyes rimmed red. "Marcus, your brother's body is barely cold, and you want us to be your mistresses?" Vivian wore a pale blouse, her voice trembling. "I'd sooner die than betray your brother." This time around, I was going to give them exactly what they asked for.

My father was Enzo Moretti, the godfather of one of New York’s most powerful mafia families. And I was his princess—his most cherished treasure. He hid me from his world to protect me, but he didn’t want me left alone, so he arranged a marriage for me. The groom was Leon Scott—the son of New York’s richest man. Handsome, loaded, and a rising star in the business world. On paper, he was perfect. For our wedding, my father had a custom gown flown in from a designer in Milan. Today was my fitting appointment. When I walked into the bridal boutique, my heart stopped. Nicole Hill, Leon’s childhood sweetheart, was wearing my wedding dress. When she saw me, a smug little smile curled her lips. Then she grabbed a cheap white polyester bridesmaid’s dress from the table and shoved it into my arms. “Put this on,” she said, lifting her chin like she owned the place. “You can wear this for the ceremony.” I looked down at the flimsy fabric in my hands, then back up at her. My voice dropped low. “I’m the soon-to-be bride. And you’re telling me to wear this?” She let out a laugh, sharp and mean. “Just do what you’re told and don’t make this difficult. Leon already gave the word. I’m walking down the aisle in your place. And you? You just stand there like a good little bridesmaid and go through the motions.” For a few seconds, I couldn’t speak. Then I pulled out my phone and dialed Leon’s number. It rang twice before he picked up. “Leon, about Nicole taking my place at the altar. Don’t you think you owe me an explanation?”

During a dinner party hosted by the Cassano crime family, a lace garter stained with dried fluid dropped out of Matthew's pocket. He was the Don's son-in-law. When questioned, Matthew insisted I had tried to seduce him, failed, and planted my own underwear on him as a setup. In my past life, I was just a maid for the Cassano family. Simply because I had a killer body and a pretty face, the hot-tempered mafia princess, Caroline, refused to listen to a word I said. She had me fed alive to a venomous snake. My parents came seeking justice, only to end up at the bottom of the river. In this life, I faced Matthew's setup once again. "She sneaked into my booth and threw herself at me! When I rejected her, she planted this on me to ruin my marriage with Caroline!" But I was no longer a lowly maid. I held a Ph.D. in Economics from Yale and served as the Chief Advisor for the Visconti family, a global mafia empire.

I had lost my memory for three years. I'd been through hell and high water with Adrian Vance for the past three years. He told me we'd grown up together on the same block, two kids who'd fallen for each other young. He told me that once he had a real foothold in the Family, he'd marry me in front of all of Palermo and make the whole city come to watch. I believed him. With a steady trigger hand and a mean streak, I cleared every man who stood in his way. I dragged him up from a nobody bastard son into the inner circle of the Family, one body at a time. Then the day finally came, and what he said was, "I've already asked the Don for his daughter Camilla. It's settled. I'm marrying her." "Camilla's a mafia princess. The Don's pride and joy. Not some no-name orphan girl with nothing and no one behind her. She's the one who can actually lift me up." "Be good, Vera. As long as Camilla never finds out, we can go on the way we always have." "Be good. You mean play your mistress in the dark, is that it?" What Adrian didn't know was that my memory had already come back. My real name was Hale, heir to the Hale family, the one enemy the Marlowe outfit he'd sworn himself to feared most. Childhood sweethearts, princesses, Don. In the end they were all just one more debt I'd settle on my way to paying the Family back in full.

On the day of mafia families' annual gathering, my mother and I sat in the back of a Lincoln, heading toward the Falcone estate. I was adjusting my dress when my phone buzzed with a video from my fiancé's secretary. The footage showed a middle-aged woman being dragged by her hair across a marble floor. Her cheek was already swelling, red and angry. The secretary's sharp voice cut through the audio as she delivered slap after slap. "Gianna, you pathetic gold-digger! Did you really think you could fool Don Falcone into marrying you, and then let your thieving mother wander into the estate to lift his mother's jewelry? Please." Another slap. The woman's head snapped to the side. "I'm doing Don Falcone a favor by handling this trash." I lowered the phone. My mother sat beside me, checking her watch with a slight frown. When she felt my gaze, she looked up and smiled, then reached over to fold my hand between both of hers. "The Falcone family is struggling with the new casino licensing, but we can help them with that since Don Falcone is your fiancé," she said lightly, "He is a striking man, sweetheart. Once the alliance is sealed, your father and I can help straighten things out." I frowned and replayed the video. Long dark hair pulled back loosely. Warm brown eyes filled with pain. A small scar on her left eyebrow. Oh God. The injured woman was none other than Anthony's mother! I called the secretary immediately. "Lilian, you idiot. That's Anthony's mother!" She let out a vicious laugh. "Please, I know exactly who you are, Gianna. A nobody his father pushed onto him. Don Falcone doesn't give a damn about you, so why would he care about your family?"

Colton and I were the two most notorious good-for-nothings in the Sicilian mafia. My oldest brother, Dominic, was the Don of the Turner Family. My other brother, Luca, laundered money for the entire operation. That made me the Family princess who did nothing but max out my brothers' credit cards. Colton had been frail since birth. His hands shook whenever he held a gun. But his oldest sister, Serena, ran several arms routes in the south, and his other sister, Natalia, commanded one of the world's top assassin teams. One day at the racetrack, the four of them got to talking. "Since none of us can stop worrying about the little ones, why not put them together? Easier to keep an eye on both." Just like that, Colton and I got married. We were moved into the Family estate, and life was peaceful and easy. That peace lasted until it was time for me to go abroad with Colton for his long-term treatment. The night before we left, our brothers and sisters threw us a farewell banquet so we could make our formal debut before the Family. At the banquet, Beth, the daughter of the Garry Family, insisted I was the mistress her husband kept on the side. "I don't know your husband, and I'm definitely not his mistress. My husband is right over there." I pointed him out to her. Colton was stuffing cake into his mouth, his hands already starting to tremble. Beth burst out laughing. "You think pointing at some idiot will fool anyone? I've seen plenty of women like you!" She shoved me hard. I crashed into the champagne tower, knocking it over. Glass shattered across the floor, and the deafening noise drew a crowd. A jagged shard sliced a deep gash into my leg. Blood poured out. Colton panicked when he saw what happened. He rushed forward, shoved Beth aside, and was ready to fight. Beth was furious. "So he really is an idiot. Throw them both into the sea." I fought with everything I had and managed to dial Dominic. My voice shook. "Dominic, someone's trying to kill me." They had no idea wha

My husband, Lucio Moretti, Don of the Moretti family, brought in a girl from the slums and put her in charge of the estate. From that day on, every dollar I spent had to be approved by Gianna. I couldn't even decide to buy a single lipstick, or one dress, on my own. Later, my mother-in-law fell down the stairs on the night before her birthday. I called Gianna right away and demanded 200 grand for the medical bills. But she decided I was lying. "Donna, you really made up a story about your own mother dying just so I'd approve you more money?" Then the call ended. Because Gianna refused to approve the money, my mother-in-law died. And Lucio? He was already having the lawyer draft a waiver for me to sign, a formal release of any claims related to her death. He held a tearful, "guilty" Gianna against him and talked me down like I was being unreasonable. "Gia was only doing her job. Your mother was never healthy anyway. This is mercy." "Be good. Sign it." I went still. He thought it was my mother who died. But it was his.

On the night before Don Lucas and I were supposed to sign our marriage license, his friends threw us a party. During a game of truth or dare, a rule was set: for the rest of the night, everyone had to speak only Italian. Chloe, my supposed best friend, was the first to play along. "Tomorrow you're signing the papers with her, Lucas,” she said in Italian. "Make an excuse and come to my place tonight. I bought that purple lace set you like." Lucas swirled the amber bourbon in his glass and said in Italian, "I wore you out last night. Four condoms weren't enough for you?" Around the table, the guys who understood Italian burst into roaring laughter. Then Lucas reached out and stroked my hair in soft English. "Feeling tired, sweetheart? " I looked into Lucas’s warm eyes. "What did Chloe just say to you?" "She was just saying how lucky I am to have you, baby. She's planning a surprise for us." Chloe chimed in Italian again. "Be careful, Lucas. What if your helpless little doll figures it out?" Lucas chuckled."Not a chance. She’s obsessed with me. You know better than anyone how naive she is." "Besides, she’s just a girl who crawled out of the slums. She doesn't understand a single word of Italian." In that single second, my entire world shattered into cold, jagged dust. I wasn't just fluent in Italian. It was the very language I spoke when I learned how to reload a Beretta. I wasn't some helpless girl from the slums. I was the only daughter and sole heiress of the Moretti family, the undisputed rulers of the largest Italian Mafia syndicate in the country. And the reason his little underworld empire had skyrocketed over the last three years? It wasn't his brilliance. It was my family’s underground empire quietly clearing his path and pulling the strings from the shadows. Since I was the one who elevated him to the heavens, I could drag him down into hell just as easily.

My sister Seraphina and I were inseparable growing up. She played the fierce protector. She called herself my guardian angel. Deep down, she was a snake. She wanted everything I had. She stole my man—Rocco, a Capo in the Philly mafia's Cianci family. Her excuse? She wanted to "test" his loyalty to me. She claimed she was shielding me from his dark world of shootouts, blood, and FBI wiretaps. She maxed out the black card he gave me. Then she told him I bought a Rolex for a boy toy. She skimmed money from the family's money-laundering business. She pinned it on me. She said I was a gambling addict with massive debts. She got pregnant. Yet she still messed around with Rocco's uncle at a lavish yacht party. She got high and partied until she started bleeding. But in the end, I took the fall for everything. She spun a lie. She said I locked her in the bathroom out of jealousy. She panicked. She fell. The baby died. To avenge her, my man threw me into a rundown underground casino in Atlantic City. There, his uncle's mistress sold me to a pimp. I got hooked on drugs. Then they tossed me out on the streets. I was passed around from one man to another in pure humiliation. Until my body completely broke down. I died a slow, dirty, and lonely death. When I opened my eyes again, I was back. Back to the very night my sister miscarried after that crazy yacht party.

The day I married Dante Moretti, I became the youngest Donna in New York. He took the Family seal from me and put the Family's ledgers and vault keys in the hands of his Underboss Valentina. She was his second-in-command and his lover. Even as Donna, I needed her signature before I could spend a dollar of the Family's money. Then Beatrice Moretti, Dante's mother and the former Donna, was attacked outside a church. The secret clinic demanded half a million dollars in cash before they would operate. I couldn't reach Dante, so I had to go to Valentina for access to the emergency vault. She sat behind Dante's desk, painting her nails. "You want money? Kneel, kiss my instep, and submit a request form." I did as I was told. Because my mother-in-law was lying on that operating table, and she was the only person who had ever treated me like a daughter. Valentina deliberately spilled coffee on the form and tore it to pieces. Not long after, the church bells tolled for the dead. And Dante, with his arm around Valentina, asked, "It's your mother who died. Why should we pay for her?"

My ex, Luca Romano, had a rival family on his tail, so he begged me to hide him at my family's private estate for five days. For old times' sake, I agreed and gave him a temporary passcode that would work for five days. Five days later, I finished my work out of town and returned to the estate. When I entered the passcode, the door wouldn't open. Someone had changed it. I rang the doorbell. A woman I had never seen before came out wearing my nightgown. She yawned as if she owned the place. The moment she saw me, she looked at me with disgust. "So you're the ex-girlfriend who won't leave Luca alone? "You two already broke up, and now you're showing up at his place in the middle of the night? Don't you have any shame?"

Ten years ago, I died in a shootout. My men recovered my body. I left behind only one daughter. My husband, Colton Rinaldi, found our daughter selling cigars at the docks. Under the blazing sun, she was drenched in sweat. The wooden crates had rubbed her shoulders raw and bloody. Colton's face fell. He pulled her aside. Then he demanded, beside himself with rage, "Why are you doing hard labor here? Where is your mother? How could she dump you in a place like this? "She's so damn selfish!" Mia Rinaldi had never seen him before. She stared at him, bewildered. "Who are you? Do you want a cigar? They're cheap." Colton lifted the crate off her shoulders. The veins on the backs of his hands bulged. "Even if she's angry with me, she has no right to torment you like this. Come with me. As far as you're concerned, you don't have a mother anymore." With that, he grabbed her hand and tried to lead her away. Panicked, Mia bit his arm and glared up at him. "Don't talk about my mom like that! Who are you? Get away from me! "Let go of me!" Blood streamed down Colton's arm. Colton went livid. "What has Monica Bellini been teaching you? She's angry with me, so she taught you to be this rude? "I'm your father!" My spirit hovered beside Mia. I tried to wipe away her frightened tears. My hand passed straight through her. A bitter smile tugged at my lips. How could Colton not know? I wasn't sulking. I was dead.

All of New York knew that Caspian Solis, the Don of the Solis family, worshipped the ground I walked on. Then an ambush left him with amnesia. Not only did he forget me and our twenty years together, but he also mistook his secretary, Ivy, for the love of his life. He tossed our matching bracelets and stared at me with dead eyes. "You are not my type. Ivy is the woman I love." My heart shattered. I tried everything to help him remember. Until I overheard a conversation between him and his right-hand man: "Don, how long are you going to keep this up? What if your wife finds out you are faking the amnesia?" Caspian exhaled a cloud of cigar smoke, completely unbothered. "She won't." "I just want to have some fun while I am young. Eating the same meal every day gets stale, doesn't it?" "When I have had my fill, I will tell her my memory came back. After all, Lorelai is the one I truly love." Standing outside the door, I felt violently sick. A thought sparked in my mind: If Caspian could fake amnesia to play me, why couldn't I? So, I accidentally fell down a flight of stairs. When I woke up, I locked eyes with Caspian's ally and biggest rival—Zane, the most feared Don in New York. I smiled and threw myself into his arms. "There you are, darling."