Scumbag Mafia Short Stories & Novels

I was packing up to leave work when the shooting started in the neighborhood. The company sent out a mandatory evacuation notice: everyone had to be out of the building by six, no exceptions. Before leaving, one of my coworkers asked, "Chiara, want me to drive you home?" I waved it off. "Leo says he's five minutes out." At five that afternoon, I could hear scattered shots in the distance. I called my boyfriend, Leo Bianchi. The call didn't go through. The last message in our thread was from half an hour earlier. He'd said he was five minutes away. I figured the shooting and lockdown would slow traffic a little. At half past five, the perimeter outside the building was breached and the power was cut. I was the only one left in the office. I called Leo again. This time the call went through, but Lena Pisani, his coworker, answered. "Chiara? Is that you?" I hesitated, caught off guard. "Where's Leo?" "He's driving. He can't really pick up. We're on our way to my place. Leo said it wasn't safe for me to go back by myself. "Oh, and he said he messaged you half an hour ago, telling you to find somewhere safe. You made it home, right?" The gunfire outside was deafening, and I slowly went cold inside. For three years, every bit of Leo's attention had gone to his new coworker. And whatever feelings I still had for him finally burned out. "Yeah. I'm home." A home he would never be part of again.

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?"

Everyone believed I was the perfect good girl. Yet no one knew that every night, right under the nose of Blackport's most ruthless mafia Don, I was tangled up with his heir and my own stepbrother. It was not until the fifth year of our secret affair that I overheard him speaking with his right‑hand man, Carlo Vitale, through the cracked door of the casino's top‑floor office. "Boss, you deflowered your own stepsister when she was 18. You've been stringing her along for 5 years, and you're still not going to make it official?" My heart clenched. Quietly, desperately, I waited for Giuliano Falcone's answer. Giuliano flicked his custom Zippo open and shut, smiling like he did not care. "You said it yourself. She's a dirty little secret. How would you even bring that into the light? "If it weren't for getting back at her harlot of a mother for destroying my family, I never would've touched her. "I've already proposed to Viviana. Only a Moretti Principessa is fit to stand as the Madre of the Falcone family." I did not break down. I did not storm in and demand answers. I pretended I had heard nothing, turned around, and walked into the darkness. On the day of Giuliano and Viviana Moretti's wedding, he stationed his suited Soldati at every entrance to the venue, terrified I would show up and cause a scene. What he did not know was that I was already sitting in first class on a flight to Bellavista, and I was never coming back.

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.

I'm Isa Borgia, the daughter of the most powerful Don in Corvina. My father worries I'll marry the wrong man on a whim, so he arranges for me to be engaged to Luca, the rising heir of the Marino family. It's an arranged marriage, but that doesn't mean I've lost all my say. The very least I can do is choose a ring I genuinely like. So, I go to the mafia auction. When the diamond ring appears as the final jewel of the night, I lift my paddle. Just before the gavel falls, an arrogant voice comes from behind me. "A country bumpkin like you thinks you can compete with me? Do yourself a favor and leave." The auction hall goes quiet for a few seconds. The only sound comes from the camera shutters clicking around the hall. I turn and see a woman in a gold couture gown. Her mouth curves in a casual smile, as if she owns the place. Before I can say a word, the auctioneer rushes to close the bid.
"Sold! Congratulations to Ms. Sofia Lopez for winning the final lot, the Eternal Star!" My brows pull tight, and a hot spike of anger rises in my chest. "You ended the bidding early! Do you even follow the rules here?" Sofia turns around and gives me a once-over, her gaze sharp as a blade. 
"Rules?" She lets out a cold laugh. "Come on. I'm Luca Marino's favorite godsister. Around here, I make the rules!" I can't help but laugh. What a coincidence. So, she's my fiance's godsister. I pull out my phone and call him. "Luca, your godsister just snatched the engagement ring I picked out. How are you going to handle this?"

At the underground black market auction in New York, Lorenzo Moretti won a rare red diamond with a bid so high it made jaws drop. The entire Commission was waiting for the other shoe to drop—waiting to see me become a joke. Because in the Moretti family, every time Lorenzo gives away a diamond, it represents another one of his betrayals. White diamonds are hush money to cover up tabloid scandals. Blue diamonds mean he had a "slip-up" at some wild party. Pink diamonds mean I caught him in his private apartment, rolling in the sheets with another woman with my own eyes. But this time was different. It was a rare red diamond. Everyone guessed the Don was preparing to divorce me. Instead, Lorenzo publicly declared his love. He said this red diamond represented a "Blood Oath"—a symbol of his true heart and loyalty to me. He said that from now on, he would return to the family and pledge his allegiance only to me. Everyone congratulated me on finally taming the Sicilian Wolf. I, however, left the signed divorce papers in the safe, and all alone, I left him forever.

I was the odd one out in the Chicago mob. Other men's women spent their time fighting for affection, clawing for power, watching out for the homewreckers. Not me. I spent mine cleaning up after my boyfriend, Don Vincent Maro. His political rivals — I squared away. His brother's messes — I handled overnight. The women he kept on the side — I dealt with personally. Last month it got worse. He asked me to go chase off a man who'd been hanging around Sofia, his new girl. Sofia pouted. "Elena really can do everything." Vincent said, "That's why I keep her around." Sofia asked, "Won't Elena be upset?" Vincent paused. "Her? She's used to it." Seven years. No title in the Maro family. No public acknowledgment. Just one function — fixing things. This time, I was tired. I slid the last stack of documents across to Vincent. He signed them one after another without looking up. When he was done, he asked: Anything else? I said: No. It's all handled. What he didn't know was that at the bottom of that stack was the document terminating every identity I held inside the Maro family. The moment his pen touched that page, I no longer belonged to the Maros. And I no longer belonged to him.

I was engaged to Theodore Harrison, heir to the Harrison family. I wanted a perfect wedding, so I lost 22 pounds in three months. I cut out carbs completely and took five Pilates classes a week, all so I could look my very best in the Harrison heirloom gown. But when I went in for my fitting, the maid brought out a plain dress instead. Still in the dress, I demanded an explanation. Theodore, my fiancé, answered as if it were no big deal. "Layla's young, and she loves pretty clothes. So I had the heirloom gown sent to her." He looked at me like he'd only just noticed how much I'd changed. "That gown belongs on someone dazzling, like Layla. Right now, you look like a walking skeleton. "It doesn't matter what you wear to the wedding anyway. Just let Layla have the dress." I couldn't believe it. I was shaking so hard I couldn't get a word out. Theodore and I had been together for eight years, and he'd brought his childhood friend, Layla Brooks, along on every single date. When we went hunting, he gave Layla the rifle I shot best with. When we went shopping, he handed Layla the dress I'd ordered three months in advance. Whenever I objected, Theodore would give me an impatient look. "Hailey, if you can't even give up small things like this, how are you supposed to be my wife?" I'd thought he saw Layla as nothing more than a childhood friend. But now he'd even given her the wedding dress meant for me. Suddenly, I was tired. Maybe Theodore had forgotten one thing: whoever married me would be eligible to become the Harrison heir.

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?”

Just before the weapons design competition, my design schematics mysteriously go missing. Since I no longer have anything to submit, I'm disqualified from the competition. Meanwhile, my older sister, Camilla Cassano, steals the show with my designs. She gets what she wants, which is to marry the next don of the Carbone family—and the man I've had a crush on since I was a child—Leon Carbone. When she brags about it to me, I don't kick up a fuss. Instead, I calmly wish her the best. In my previous life, I'd chosen to expose her on the spot. I seized back the glory that was meant to be mine and married Leon. I thought that was the start of my happiness, but it turned out to be the beginning of my nightmare. Leon had always been in love with Camilla. Throughout our five years of marriage, I was made to slave away like a robot and spend all my time researching. In the end, I was blown to pieces in an explosion triggered by sheer exhaustion. Now that I'm back in time, I personally deliver Camilla to Leon's side, and I marry Don Lorenzo Marra, the notoriously ruthless womanizer. Everyone waits to watch me sink into the depths of despair, rueing my every decision. I'm the only one who knows just how powerful the man, so misunderstood by the world, truly is.

On the flight to Arlencia, a post popped up: [What's it like to have sex in a wedding dress?] The pic showed a girl yanking some guy's purple tie while he hiked up her gown. His face was blurred, but hers? Straight-up blissed out. Everyone in the comments was swooning over how in love they looked. I didn't swoon. I froze. Because that purple tie? I gave it to Zeke Santoro, my fiancé, a few days ago. And that wedding dress? The exact custom one he had made for me. There was only one. I kept zooming in, heart racing, until I spotted a family photo in the background. My hands were shaking when I called him. "I wanna see the dress," I said. He hesitated. "It's at the studio getting final touches. Not with me right now. I'll show it to you later." I just smiled and hung up. That was all I needed. Zeke cheated—and the girl? His stepsister, Jella. Total circus. I reopened the post and shot her a DM: [Your wedding dress is stunning. I have the same one.]

My fiancé, Elio Santoro, is the Don of the Santoro family, one of the five major mafia families in Castellano. During a gang attack, he is shot and loses his memory, causing him to completely forget me. I try again and again to help him recover his memory, but every attempt fails. One day, I go to find him with the contract after finalizing a major drug transport deal with a foreign group on his behalf. By chance, I overhear his conversation with his first love, Sofia Rossi. "Elio, according to our bet, you've already reached level 98 in this game. Two more levels, and I will become the true Donna of the Santoro family." I feel like I've been tossed into an icy lake. So his amnesia is fake, and our seven years together are all a lie. Since the beginning, this is just a cruel game he is playing to amuse his first love, and I am nothing but a toy. Later, I get into a car accident on my way to meet Sofia. Elio rushes into the fire like a madman. The moment he sees my burned corpse, he loses his mind.

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.”

I'd been married to Aurelio Moretti, the most powerful Don in Italy, for five years, and his lovers outnumbered the guns we ran through our underground deals. But I no longer got angry, because we'd signed a contract when we got married. The first clause said I had to respect Aurelio's private life. No interfering, no scenes, or I'd face the consequences. I'd already learned what breaking it would cost me. My father, Lorenzo Silvestri, lost the funding for his treatment and was thrown out of the hospital. After that, whenever he brought a lover home, I handed him the condoms myself. So when Aurelio announced he was going to marry Marilyn Shaw, his young lover, I smiled and clapped. His men all said Aurelio had finally tamed me, the thorniest rose Italy had ever seen. Only I knew that wasn't true. I was just getting ready to leave for good.

On the day of her wedding, Elena Bianchi was left standing alone in a church. For the nineteenth time, Don Giovanni Rossi failed to appear. His excuse was the same as always—Lina was 'dying' again. This time, the humiliation went further. While Elena waited in her wedding dress, a video call arrived. On the screen, the lace veil her mother had left her—the one promise Elena had sworn to keep—was being torn apart by Lina’s dog as Lina laughed and urged it on. Giovanni followed with a careless apology. He promised to buy her a better one. That veil had been the last thing her mother ever gave her. Elena did not cry. She did not argue. Instead, she made a call no one in the Italian underworld dared to make. Seven years later, the Rossi family had fallen. Their power was gone. Their allies had turned away. And Giovanni—once untouchable—stood among the defeated, waiting to receive the Donna of the most powerful Mafia family. He never expected it to be Elena. Now married to Rafael Bellini, Elena was no longer the woman abandoned at the altar. She was Bellini’s Donna—calm, ruthless, and beyond his reach. The veil that had once been fed to a dog had become a crown. And the man who had destroyed her was now her enemy. In a world ruled by bloodlines, loyalty, and vengeance, Elena proved one unbreakable truth: A woman cast aside by a Mafia king did not disappear—she rose, and she returned as his reckoning.

Lucas Morandi and I ran the biggest arms-smuggling network in Sicily. During one deal, we rescued a kidnapped barista named Chloe Bennett. That naive girl fell hopelessly in love with Lucas. She'd wait outside our villa with Italian pastries she'd baked herself. She'd hang around outside the office with coffee she'd made just for him. Lucas always knocked the pastries and coffee into the mud, disgust written all over his face. "Enough with these cheap little gifts. This pathetic domestic fantasy makes me sick." Then, during a bloody raid by a rival family, Chloe's scream gave away our position. I took a sniper's bullet for Lucas and ended up in a deep coma. Lucas hated her for it. He chained her beside my ventilator and grabbed her by the throat, forcing her to beg for forgiveness. Desperate to atone, she grabbed a shard of broken glass and slit her wrist. At the sight, the cold-blooded Don's eyes instantly filled with tears. He gripped the sharp glass with his bare hand, his voice shaking so badly he could barely get the words out. "You think you can escape me by dying? In your dreams!" She collapsed into his arms, sobbing. The man who had sworn he would never marry anyone but me kissed away her tears. I could only lie in that hospital bed and watch helplessly as something inside me died.

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.

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.

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.

I had been in love with Leo, the Don of a Mafia family. For seven years, I was there with him through the darkest nights, cleaned up after him more times than I could count, and convinced myself that he would give me the ending I deserved. When word got back to me that Leo was planning a proposal, I could barely contain the tremble in my fingers. However, the woman he was proposing to wasn’t me. My eyes burned, and my voice was barely a whisper. “Why?” Leo pulled me into his arms in assurance, his chest warm against my skin, but the words coming out of his mouth were anything but. “Nina has cancer. Her only wish is to know what it’s like to be proposed to. I couldn’t say no to her. “This is the one thing I can do for her.” As Leo slipped the ring onto Nina’s finger, his expression earnest, the past seven years I’d spent loving him felt like a joke. Nina got her happy ending. All I got was a rude awakening. Now that the dream was over, it was time for me to walk away.