Plot Twists Mafia Short Stories & Scumbag Marriage Novels

For seven years, I stood by Reese Moretti as he fought his way up from a mafia nobody until he stood as an equal among the Three Families. Then I got pregnant with Reese's child. He promised me the wedding of the century. I was overjoyed and couldn't wait for our future together. Until his childhood sweetheart, Layla, came back, and everything changed. Layla was frail, and she'd once done Reese a great favor. Without even realizing it, he began to favor her over me—his fiancée. One week before the wedding, Layla shoved me to the floor. She leaned in close to my ear. "Ivy, if Reese walks in and sees us both on the floor, who do you think he'll worry about?" Before I could react, Layla suddenly screamed and collapsed. When Reese rushed in, Layla was clutching her chest, whispering weakly that her old heart condition had flared up. "Reese, I can't breathe. I don't think I can hold on much longer." Before I could say a word, Reese scooped Layla up in his arms and rushed her to the private medical wing. Blood spread beneath me. In that moment, the pain in my body was nothing compared to the agony of my heart tearing apart. Seven years of love and the child not yet fully formed inside me vanished in that single instant. Heartbroken and numb, I decided to leave and let them be together. But Reese refused to let me go.

I married Kael Throne—the infamous king of New York’s mafia—not for his power, not for his fortune, but because I loved him. He was unlike any man I’d ever known. A man who could have a thousand women at his feet, yet dismissed them all with a single glance. I believed his faithful love until the day I learned the existence of a college girl. He’d “respected” me enough to keep her hidden… until I forced the truth into the light. Kael didn’t rage. He didn’t deny it. He only looked at me with that calm, dangerous gaze and said, “Then we divorce.” I refused. He offered me his money, his casino, his everything. Still I said no. Because I loved him. That’s when his love turned black. He had me kidnapped. My mother, too. All to force my signature on those papers. “You found out,” he said, almost bored. “And there’s no more fun in hiding. Leave now, Vivienne. Give me—and Nyssa—our happy ending.” I watched as the man he’d sent slit my mother’s throat. My answer came too late. Kael Throne was a monster. I collapsed, my head cracking against the floor. And when I opened my eyes… I was back on the day I first learned Nyssa existed. This time, I didn’t confront him. I played the perfect wife, smiling sweetly while I waited for the perfect moment to vanish from his life forever. I just never imagined that when I finally disappeared… Kael would lose his mind.

I had planned a family vacation to Caspian Isola for the upcoming break, including a trip aboard a private luxury yacht. Apparently moved by how busy I was, my husband, Matteo Grieco, offered to purchase the necessary tickets on my behalf. It wasn't until the day before our scheduled departure that I realized everyone, from his parents and cousins to even the maid, had a ticket. Everyone except me. Then, his childhood friend, Sophia Bamonte, posted a family photo on social media and tagged me. Sophia: [Madam Camilla has graciously offered to let us go in her place!] I demanded an explanation from Matteo, but he told me Sophia was like a little sister to him, and he wanted to bring her along. Since there were limited seats on the plane, he had given her mine. "Besides, you still have a lot of things to take care of, don't you? I know you'd rather enjoy some peace and quiet at home by yourself!" Matteo claimed. Well, well, well. He had actually come up with such a ridiculous excuse to justify himself, almost as if he'd forgotten who the real breadwinner of this family was! Without another word, I took my daughter and returned to my mother's house. I switched off my phone and didn't turn it back on until the following afternoon. The first thing that greeted me was a notification of 137 missed calls. My dear mother-in-law had also sent me a dozen voice messages, each about a minute long. The last message was from my own husband. "Camilla, please answer! We can't pay our bills!"

Three years ago, on our wedding night, I walked in on my ex-husband, Filippo, tangled up with his friend Teresa in our marriage bed. Just because Teresa said she was scared, Filippo threw me out of the villa and left me to walk alone through the pitch-dark night for hours. By the next day, the rumor that I'd sold out family secrets had spread through every street in Naples. I became the traitor who'd betrayed the Naples Mafia, and one rainy night, I was driven out of the city. Three years later, after marrying Rafael Vitale, the new Don of the Sicilian Mafia, I returned to Naples to take back the estate my father left me. I never imagined the estate that was mine alone would be used for a trashy swimsuit party. The roses that once stood for my parents' love were being trampled underfoot without a second thought. Before I could stop it, someone shoved me down into the flowerbed. "This is a Naples family gathering. No outsiders allowed!" I looked up, and the jeering hit me. "Well, if it isn't Isabella, the useless ex-wife Filippo kicked off the estate." "I heard she was all over Filippo back then and used her family's power to force him into marrying her. Too bad the wedding had barely ended before she ran off with another man!" "So is she back because the guy got bored and dumped her? Too bad Filippo already runs the Gallo family, and tomorrow some big shot from Sicily is coming for the ceremony" "Plus, Filippo already proposed to Teresa, the Gallos' only daughter. The wedding's next month."

For our fifth anniversary, I planned to bid on a pink diamond ring. A young woman outbid me. I followed her outside to ask if she would consider selling it to me. She stood at the curb, showing the ring on her hand to the friend who had come with her. "I'm already tired of this one. "So my boyfriend told me to pick out something I liked for our first anniversary." I stopped. She would never part with an anniversary gift. Reese was busy handling the smuggling trade along the coast and could not come with me. He had only said he would not be home for dinner and told me to buy myself something nice to celebrate. When I heard her say her boyfriend had a candlelit dinner waiting for her, I smiled and envied their young love. My car pulled up. As I was about to get in, she turned around. I saw the ring on her hand, the one she was already tired of. My breath caught. Cold shot from the soles of my feet to the base of my skull. It was the ring Reese had given me last year, then discarded because it did not fit.

My fiance did not come home the night his childhood sweetheart returned to the country. His voice was as gentle as ever when he called. "Honey, she saved my life. Now she's terminally ill, it's only natural for me to take care of her." I told myself he should indeed repay her for saving his life. He continued, "Once I've repaid her, I'll cut ties with her." He looked so determined and loving that I believed him, time after time. But when a chandelier fell at his birthday banquet, the person he protected was that woman. He did not notice my shoulder was already soaked with blood. The day before our wedding ceremony, he locked me in the basement. "If you're still going to act like this, you need some time to think about what you've done. You can come out before the wedding!" Through the doorway, I saw their fingers locked. In that moment, every feeling I had for him disappeared. I did not cry or make a scene. I called my mother instead. "Mom, I think it's time I listened to you and came home."

In order to protect me, Don Salvatore deliberately announces that my fiance, Simone Pozzi, is his long-lost son. Simone shakes with excitement when he sees the man in a bespoke suit stepping out of the Rolls-Royce that is parked outside my house. Just as I'm about to tell him it's all a lie, he shoves me aside. He even brushes his sleeves in disgust, as if he has touched something filthy. Simone says, "Stay away from me. Don't let your poverty rub off on me! Since I'm the Don's son, we'll call off our engagement. An illegitimate bastard like you isn't even fit to wipe my shoes!" When I try to explain, he cuts me off by writing out a check and flinging it hard into my face. The sharp edge of the paper slices across my cheek. "Take this one million dollars as our breakup fee and don't bother me again. We're no longer from the same world," Simone says. I watch the check flutter down into the mud and quietly turn off my phone screen. On the screen is a message Papa—Don Salvatore—has just sent me, "Just bear with it a little longer, Principessa. Papa will bring you home soon to take over the famiglia." Simone is so determined to cut himself off completely. He might have the luck to claim a fortune that big, but not the life to enjoy it.

Wyatt became the Don of the Volkov Family. His first move? Proposing to me at his celebration gala. But I pushed the ring away. "We're done, Wyatt." He frowned. Scoffed. "Over that red diamond necklace? I told you I forgot. Next time. For Christmas, I swear." I nodded. "Yes. Exactly because of that." Two weeks ago, he passed the old Don's final test. Secured a massive arms route. He bought gifts for everyone. Even the new getaway driver got a gold Rolex. But he forgot our anniversary. Forgot the red diamond necklace I always wanted. I tried to brush it off. He promised me. Next time. Then came Sarah. His secretary. She posted a photo on Instagram. A red diamond necklace. The caption? "Best boss in the world. Knows exactly what I love." Wyatt didn't say a word to me. But he liked her post. We grew up in the same orphanage. We only had each other. He protected me from the bullies. Swore to be my shield. Even when the old Don adopted him as the heir, he demanded to take me with him. But things changed. The Cartel, the shipments, the power. Everything became more important than me. Even now. At his own gala. I just rejected his ring. I dumped him. Then his phone rang. Sarah's name flashed on the screen. She needed help. He chuckled. Patted my cheek. Forced the ring onto my finger anyway. He whispered in my ear. "Alright, stop throwing a tantrum. I know you won't leave me. That necklace? ” “Next time, I promise. Sarah's in a little jam. I gotta go." He rushed off. I didn't stop him. The party raged on. I pulled out my phone. Found the Sicilian number I ignored for years. I typed a text. "Grandpa, I'm in. I'm coming back to claim my birthright. See you in Sicily tomorrow." I slid his ring off. Left it on his desk. Wyatt. From now on, we rule our own empires. We owe each other nothing.

I am the lawfully wedded wife of Don Jones—the Donna of the Jones Family—and the founding CEO of his medical empire. I stood by Vincent's side as we built it up from a two-room surgical clinic into the crown jewel of European private healthcare. Then, in my eighth month of pregnancy, dying on the operating table, Vincent pulled every surgeon out of my maternity ward for the sake of his mistress. He killed our child with his own hands. He stripped me of the right to ever be a mother. He thought I was a homeless orphan with nowhere to go. He had no idea I was the sole blood heir of the Belmonte Family. After the divorce, I came home to command a global medical empire. He knelt and begged. I watched, cold-eyed, as he fell into hell.

To end the war between the Marinos and the Valentes, I married Theodore Valente, the first love I'd once walked out on. On our wedding night, that proud, untouchable man held me and wept. Night after night, his broad frame covered mine as he made love to me. Theodore's sweet whispers made me blush, and a secret thrill went through me. Maybe he still loved me after all. But then the man I thought loved me did the unthinkable. He shot my father in the head, right in front of me. He put cement shoes on my brother and sent him to the bottom of the sea. He had my mother and sister shaved bald, then handed them over to his bodyguards to abuse however they pleased. By the time I escaped to save them, the torture had already driven them insane... My beloved husband looked at me coldly, his voice dripping with scorn. "Did you really think I still loved you? "Stop dreaming. You really thought marrying me would erase the humiliation you caused when you walked out on me? Or my hatred for your father after he killed so many members of my family?" Theodore wouldn't let me die. If I did, he'd kill my mother and my sister. He kept me as his wife in name only, yet night after night, he forced me to watch him sleep with a stand-in who looked just like me. Then the day came when his lover got pregnant. He grabbed me by the throat. "Once the baby's born, you and I are getting a divorce. My child won't be a bastard." I smiled, nodded, and promised I'd cooperate fully. After all, a doctor had diagnosed me with late-stage stomach cancer just yesterday. I didn't have another week to live.

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?"

Everyone warned me never to fall for Dante Moretti. They said he was the ghost of the Velasco family—an underboss who ordered hits without blinking, his heart colder than the barrel of his gun. But when he bent me over that mahogany desk, his mouth against my ear commanding me to say his name, I was stupid enough to think that was possession. It took me an entire year to see the truth. The photographs locked in his study drawer were never of me. The woman in white waiting for him in the cathedral district on Sunday mornings was never me. The girl who took a bullet for him, the one he called his "salvation"—her name is Elena Abate. And Elena happens to be my stepmother's daughter. My father is trying to sell me to a half-dead Agosti heir for five hundred million to save the family. My stepmother is scheming to erase me from existence entirely. And the man I thought would burn this city to the ground for me? On the day I needed him most, he was lifting Elena up a flight of stairs, cradling her like something sacred. They all thought I was just a pawn to be moved around their chessboard. They were wrong. If Dante can't let go of his precious white moonlight, his "salvation," then I'll become someone else's "widow." If Elena believes she's already won this game, I'll let her watch from the front row as a woman with nothing left to lose burns it all down. My name is Serafina. Remember it. Because I am about to become the reckoning none of them saw coming.

For seven years of my marriage to Damian Moretti, my daughter and I were so poor that every night we collected empty bottles from the alley behind a bar. Every time Ella traded the bottles in for change, she would ask me, "Mommy, do we have enough saved to go to the aquarium with Daddy yet?" Damian always said we had no money. Then, on the day I finally saved enough for three tickets, I arrived at the aquarium only to find him at the entrance holding his ex-girlfriend's hand, with her son in his arms. A staff member stopped us. "Sorry, Mr. Moretti has reserved the entire aquarium for a private event tonight." A bodyguard in black stepped up beside Damian and bowed his head. "Don, the car is ready." The truth was that my supposedly penniless husband, the man who claimed he could not afford his own daughter's ticket, had reclaimed the Moretti Family long ago and become New York's new Don. It was not that he had no money. He simply refused to spend any of it on us. Later I took my daughter and left New York, and the Vitale Family found me. I inherited the family's ports, took control of the Atlantic Shipping Alliance, and became a Donna before whom countless mafia families bowed. Damian, eyes red, begged me to come home. I only pushed the divorce papers across to him. "Damian, I am already home. And you were never my family."

Seven years ago, it was love at first sight when I met Lucas Yates, who was still a nameless thug at the time. For him, I chose to leave my wealthy family. After seven years of dating, he throws me a grand wedding the day he finally becomes the head of Devil's Advocate, a mafia organization. On the day of our wedding, his childhood friend, Yelena Jackman, crashes the venue. She confesses her love for Lucas, but he rejects her without any hesitation, vowing he will only ever love me in this life. Just as we're exchanging rings, Lucas' enemies show up to cause trouble. When he sees the gun pointing at me, he lunges forward to protect me without a second thought. Yelena, who should have run, takes three bullets while protecting Lucas and falls into a coma due to severe blood loss. Overwhelmed by guilt, Lucas sends her to the best hospital in the world. I have the same blood type as Yelena, so in the attempt to save her life, I donate so much blood that I go into shock. Guilt leaves me with sleepless nights. Every day, I pray she'll wake up. I'm even willing to look after her for the rest of my life if I have to. Lucas keeps comforting me, saying that I don't need to feel so guilty, as Yelena did all of it of her own volition. He says he'll take up the responsibility of making it up to her. I'm extremely grateful to Yelena for saving Lucas and allowing me to have such a wonderful husband. However, on the day of our third wedding anniversary, I receive a mysterious message. "Lucille, you shameless homewrecker! I'm his lawfully wedded wife! If you know what's good for you, you'd better scram and go as far away as you can. If you don't believe me, you can always head to City Hall to see just who is registered as Lucas' lawful wife!"

I married Don Matteo in secret. Every time he fucked his childhood sweetheart, he promised me a real wedding，in front of the Five Families. For five years, Matteo promised me ninety-nine times. And ninety-nine times, he left me at the altar. The first time, Cecilia’s prize-winning show cat died. To comfort her, he postponed the wedding for three months. I stood at the altar alone, eyes red, trying to calm down the family elders. The second time, Cecilia threw a tantrum at a casino and shattered a hundred-million-dollar antique vase. He diverted the private jet meant for their wedding and rushed through the night to clean up her mess. And every time, right before our wedding, his childhood sweetheart would have some kind of emergency. I cried. I screamed. I even held a gun to his head. But Matteo would just pin me against the wall and shut me up with a cold, hard kiss. “She’s just a fuck. You are Mrs. Falcone. Have some goddamn class.” After the ninety-ninth time, I was finally done. I slid the papers across the table. The ink was still wet, the Falcone family seal stamped at the bottom. “Our marriage, our alliance—it’s over.”

My brother was dying. He needed an operation. So I finally took the deal from my boyfriend's father, the Don. A million dollars to leave Rocco Valeriano, the sole heir to the Valeriano family. It drove Rocco mad. After a family war, he was covered in blood. Refused any treatment. Until his father had no choice but to bring me back. Rocco lay in that hospital bed, a gun to his own head. His eyes were dark with obsession, yet full of love. He threatened desperately, "Ava. Marry me, or I die right here." He forced my hand. He got what he wanted. But on our wedding night, he didn't say a word. He just tore my clothes off and took me with a punishing force. When it was over, he grabbed my chin. He spat, "Gold digger. You'd do anything for money, right? Well, from now on, you get nothing." Five years of marriage. He had mistresses everywhere, all of them dripping in jewels. As for me, I was the Donna in name only. My credit cards were frozen. I needed his approval just to buy a coffee. Then my brother's illness came back. I begged him for a five-grand advance to save his life. I begged him all night at his private club. He gave me ten dollars. And a sneer. He mocked, "A woman who betrayed me for money. This is all you're worth." I clutched that ten-dollar bill and cried next to my brother's corpse until I couldn't breathe. Meanwhile, Rocco was spending a fortune on a birthday party for his new girl. When I woke up, I didn't cry. I didn't scream. I just found him, perfectly calm, and threw the divorce papers in his face. He gave a scornful laugh. He scoffed, "You want a divorce over five grand, Ava? Seriously?"

For all seven years of our marriage, I believed Nolan Harris was an orphan who'd never been to school and could only find work hauling cargo at the docks. Nolan brought home so little money each month that I worked two jobs every day to help make ends meet. Nolan practically lived at the docks and was hardly ever home. Every day, I cooked for him and had someone take him the food. Then complications during labor sent me to the hospital. There, I saw Nolan in a room with a woman I'd never seen before. She was crying in his arms. Nolan wore a sharp, expensive suit, and a crowd of his men stood behind him. That was when I found out Nolan had never been a dockworker at all. He was the Don of the Harris family. The woman in his arms was Christine Walsh, the widow of his best friend. Matthew Walsh had died saving Nolan's life. To repay that debt, Nolan had given Christine the best of everything and kept it all from me for seven years. And now a rival had brutally murdered Christine's child, Jamie Walsh. To comfort Christine, Nolan wanted me to give her my baby. Once I learned the truth, I gave up on Nolan completely. I decided to walk away from our seven-year sham of a marriage and break free of Nolan for good.

My name is Elena Valesi Moretti. I'm a Brooklyn mob bride, a pawn in everyone's game. My father Enzo traded me for an alliance. My sister Isabella played the saint while secretly selling our baby sister Sofia to the Bianchi family behind closed doors. And my husband, Dante Moretti—the man with winter in his eyes who whispered “Try to run, I’ll break your legs” on our wedding day—he married me because when I was fifteen years old, I once pointed a gun at him inside a burning building. The only rule in this marriage was simple: stay out of his way. I spent three years breaking it. I sat in on council meetings and memorized every traitor's secret. I stood and watched a man's finger be severed to teach my own brother the price of betrayal. I turned myself into a blade. Then I uncovered the truth—Dante knew everything from the start. He knew my father had planted a mole inside his inner circle. He knew my sister was a trafficker's broker. He knew the woman he married was meant to be disposable from the very beginning. But there's one thing he never accounted for. He didn't marry a lamb. He married a wolf who learned how to draw blood. Now someone is trying to sell my little sister, and I have six weeks to stop it. I'm going to beat this man at every game he ever taught me.

I had been secretly dating Carlo Mandelli, heir to the Mandelli Mafia family, for five years when he finally agreed to marry me. A month before our supposed wedding, I went to discuss the guest list with him, but I overheard him talking to his underboss. "Your wedding to Ginetta is in seven days. What about Alessia?" Carlo's underboss asked. Carlo answered without hesitation, "Ginetta and I grew up together. Our marriage is for the good of the Mandelli family, not for love. I can't make Alessia my wife, but I'll give her all my love. She'll understand. Once the alliance is secured, I'll give Alessia a wedding ceremony of her own." His underboss shrugged and continued, "Then you'd better explain things to Alessia clearly. She's already pregnant, and stress isn't good for her." Carlo smiled but said nothing. Standing outside the door, I stared at the guest list I had just finished writing. I struggled to take in what I had just heard. Carlo had once promised to make me the happiest, most beautiful bride. He'd spent the past month secretly planning the wedding venue. I thought he was preparing a surprise for me, but he had actually been planning his wedding to another woman! Carlo thought I would love him no matter what, but he was wrong. I wouldn't spend the rest of my life with a man who was married to someone else. I decided I would leave on his wedding day and end things for good.

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."