Tragic Love Short Stories & Mafia Face Slapping Novels

The day before the family’s position transfer deadline, I received an order assigning me to the Bellarosa branch. It had come from Don Enzo Vitelli, who also happened to be my fiance. My fingers went cold as I dialed his number. His voice was drawling, as if he had just rolled out of bed. “Oh, Lucrezia submitted that for you. She said it was a prank. She wanted to see if you’d notice. Well, you did notice, so just cancel it yourself.” Lucrezia was the new assistant with whom he had a thing with. I held the phone and stayed silent for a long moment. All those six years I had fought for my place in the family, yet someone was treating it as a prank. I did not argue or scream. I simply packed my things calmly and boarded the flight to Bellarosa on schedule. Enzo panicked. He called back. His voice finally lost that lazy drawl. “I told you to cancel it. Have you cancelled it?” “No.”

I was engaged to Silas, Don of the Vance Famiglia, yet in the annual family portrait, I was shoved into the back corner. Standing right beside him was Camilla, his most trusted Capo. He sighed impatiently. "We have plenty of photos together, Scarlett. Missing one won't kill you. You're the future Donna. Stop being so petty." I swallowed my pride and gave up my spot. But my compromise bought me nothing. The necklace meant for me ended up around Camilla's neck. His plus-one to galas became Camilla. His excuse was always the same: "She's a vital part of the syndicate. You shouldn't compete with her." So, I gave him exactly what he wanted. I stopped being petty. I shredded the wedding planner I had poured my heart into, trashed our photos, and left New York for good. And suddenly, the cold, calculating Don was tearing the city apart looking for me.

Two years ago, I was the Donna of the Costa family. When I was on my way to attend the family meeting, I was killed by my husband's childhood sweetheart, Isabella Rossi. She shattered my limbs and smashed my belly before throwing me into an abandoned mine pit. It was such a shame that I was pregnant with the heir Matteo Costa had been waiting for the past five years when I died. Not only did Isabella frame me for working with the enemy forces, but she also broke her own legs and claimed that she got hurt from stopping me. Matteo publicly announced that he decided to sever all ties with me. He also placed a bounty on my head. Just like that, I fell from my position as the Costa family's Donna to a traitor who was wanted by all. Two years later, the mine pit collapsed on itself. That was when the workers dug out my rotten corpse.

On my birthday, my mafia husband, Alessandro, didn't come home to celebrate with me. He sent a bodyguard with a bouquet of wilting roses and a text message: [Picked these myself from the garden. Happy birthday, love.] A moment later, his right-hand woman, Chloe, posted an Instagram story. It was a fifty-thousand-dollar custom flower box, filled with black roses, their petals embedded with crushed diamonds. The caption read: [My Capo says, "If you love me, you show me devotion that never dies."] I didn't storm the casino to confront him. I just packed my bags and prepared to leave the city. The first day I was gone, word got back to me that Alessandro couldn't care less. He blew a ring of cigar smoke and said, "The world out there is dangerous. She'll be back in a few days, begging me to take her back." The first month I was gone, Alessandro tracked me down with an international call. "I'll buy you a villa in the Heights. Just come back, okay?" But a villa was never what I wanted.

At 22, as the Santoro heiress, I'm choosing a husband out of the three Guerra brothers to honor the marriage pact between our families. I pass on Aurelio Guerra and choose the eldest brother, Cesare Guerra, the one with the burn scar on his face, leaving everyone in the Mafia reeling. Everyone knows I put aside my pride as a perfumer for Aurelio and shrank myself until I barely exist. For him, I even leaned on the Santoros' muscle to build his power base. In my last life, I married him, just like I'd always wanted. With the Santoros behind him, he became the youngest Don in the Mafia. After he was established, he hooked up with my stepsister, Maeve Santoro. Together, they stole the new perfume I created, "Reverie", locked me in the lab, and set the place ablaze, reducing me to ash. Now that I've been reborn, I decide to drag those two cheaters to hell myself. But then Aurelio comes back too, carrying the memories of our last life.

In my past life, I was the only daughter of the Gambino family in New York. I had power, wealth, respect. But I lost it all because of Lucas, my husband. He brought Isabella, the widow of his fallen brother, into our home without even asking me. I threw a fit, made a scene, and gave everyone exactly the story they wanted: the spoiled Gambino princess had finally gone mad. Lucas filed for divorce soon after. I did not beg him to stay. I was Leo Gambino's daughter. I would rather break my own teeth than plead with a man who had already chosen another woman. But pride did not save me. Soon after, our family fell apart. Enemies moved in, my father was killed, and I ended up starving on the streets of New York. Lucas, however, climbed to the top using our family's influence and became the new don of New York. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day Lucas first brought Isabella home.

Elena Jones and I became orphans on the same day. Her parents are killed in a mass murder, and my father—the killer—is executed on the spot. For a month straight, Harborfield's most notorious playboy waits outside the courthouse, intent on keeping Elena. However, she throws his black card right back at him, like a headstrong heroine straight out of a movie. "The Mr. Carter I admire is refined and noble. How could he have a nephew like you? I'd rather starve than accept anything from a thug." He lets out a sharp, amused laugh and crooks a finger at me. "A death row convict's daughter and a thug make a fitting pair. I'll back you. Are you willing?" While clutching the ten-million-dollar IOU my father left behind, I nod without hesitation. Later, he orders me to get into his uncle Daniel Carter's bed. "With all that sin on your shoulders, you're an even better match for him. That way, Elena will finally give up on him for good."

My mother, Vivienne Freeman, was the Donna of Freeman Family. She had her senior engineers develop an advanced lie detector. It looked like a bracelet, and my sister and I each wore one. Whenever I lied, my band flashed red. It could supposedly catch me even when I merely thought about lying. From then on, the band seemed able to read my mind. Even when I kept my mouth shut, it still flashed red. Then Mom would find some way to punish me. I told her countless times that I had never lied, but she refused to believe me. She would not let me question technology she had personally approved. Pointing to my sister's dark band, she demanded to know why it never flashed and why I never told the truth. The day the Family caught a traitor, Mom took my sister and me to watch his execution. A gunshot rang out, and blood spread across the ground. The sight of it made me feel faint, so I begged Mom to let me leave. My band flashed red. My sister picked up a gun and smiled at me. "Mom, Sophie's band is flashing again. She must be figuring out how to deceive you!" Mom glared at me and forced the gun into my hand. "You're the Don's daughter, yet you're a coward, you're frail, and you lie. You don't deserve to be my daughter. Take the gun and shoot him!" The blood made it hard to breathe. My heart raced, strength drained from my body, and I began to suffocate. Even as I started to collapse, Mom kept accusing me of being a coward compared with my sister and a shameless liar. The world spun. Tears ran down my face as pain racked my body. Mom, I never once lied to you, not aloud and not in my thoughts. I never will.

After my ex-husband, Lucaro Ricci, has died, he turns into a ghost. Since then, he has stayed by my side as a shadow. Three years later, I walk into the church, hand-in-hand with Carlo Altieri, the oldest son of Lucaro's arch-nemesis. Everyone in the city chews me out for betraying Lucaro. Even Lucaro curses me out for being a scumbag. But I'm the only one who knows the actual reason. I've already made a wish to God in the church that I'll sacrifice my life in exchange for Lucaro's second chance in life.

I used to think that what Derek Shelby and I had could survive any test of trust. Then an ambush at the docks nearly wiped out the Shelby family. Vincent Shelby, the old Don, survived an assassination attempt but was left in a coma. Everyone said I was the one who'd leaked Vincent's whereabouts. So the night before our wedding, Derek himself dragged me out of the fitting room in my wedding dress and forced me to my knees. His eyes were bloodshot as he demanded, "Sylvia Loren, I offered to make you the Donna. Why did you betray the Shelby family?" I tried desperately to explain, but he didn't believe a word. For the next ten years, he kept me alive but trapped in his territory, punishing me relentlessly. Then Vincent woke from his coma, and everyone waited for him to condemn me himself. But he struggled to grab Derek's hand and said hoarsely, "Where's Sylvia? She didn't betray the Shelby family. "Back then, she risked her life to warn me there was a mole in the family. "If it weren't for her, I would've died on those docks!" Derek froze. The color slowly drained from his face. Only three months earlier, he'd casually handed me over to the most vicious fighter in the underground ring.

I once believed I was the most loved daughter in New York. I was the Romano family’s only heiress, my grandfather’s chosen successor, and the fiancée of Matteo Bellini. Everyone said our marriage would unite two empires and make us the most powerful couple in the city. Then my parents adopted Giulia Ricci. At a family banquet, Giulia stumbled into a towering champagne tower. She pointed at me, sobbing that I had shoved her. In a single night, the family who claimed to love me decided I was a monster. My parents condemned me. My brother disowned me. My best friend turned away. Matteo locked me in an underground wine cellar. He said I would stay until I learned to treat Giulia with respect. They knew I was claustrophobic and listened while I screamed for help. The next morning, I ended our engagement and disappeared into Paris. Three years later, I returned for my grandfather’s birthday. They expected an apology. Matteo expected his bride back. Instead, I returned with control of their European shipping routes, a daughter they knew nothing about, and a husband whose name could silence every Don in the room. As Giulia's identity gradually came to light, a conspiracy against the Romano family emerged. I had not been replaced by accident. Someone had orchestrated everything to let Giulia steal my position, my inheritance, and the port resources I controlled. They finally regretted losing me. But this time, I would never look back.

When I was twelve, I bought a half‑starved boy from a Brooklyn fight pit. His ribs were broken, blood on his teeth, but he still crawled to my feet. “Choose me,” he said. “Give me a place, and I’ll be useful.” So I took him home. Twelve years later, Matteo Greco had become my family’s most feared enforcer. He bled for me, killed for me, carved my initial over his heart—and called it loyalty. Then one day a beautiful young woman showed up at my door. “You were never the one he loved,” she said with a smirk. “You’re just the nightmare he’s been trying to escape.” She placed a hand on her swollen belly and taunted me, “Matteo’s going to run away with me.” I let out a cold laugh. I had my men drag her downstairs, then sent a message to Matteo: “Get back here. Now.”

On my wedding day, Matteo Castello's younger adopted sister, Gisella Castello, delivers me a wedding gift consisting of a worn condom. There's a note pressed underneath said condom. "Lucia, I've already tested Matteo for you. He's really good in bed." I lose my mind on the spot. That night, I sleep with three of Matteo's friends, and I make sure to leave hickeys all over my body. The next morning, Matteo kicks open my room door. Soon, a few sacks are tossed into my room, courtesy of his subordinates. The men whom I've slept with the night before are the ones contained in those sacks. Shocked beyond my wits, I let out a blood-curdling scream. I can barely feel my limbs as I scramble away from those sacks. But Matteo reaches out to grip me by the chin and lift my head forcefully. "What are you afraid of? They were already plotting behind my back. I was worried that I might not be able to deal with them without a proper excuse. What I didn't expect is that you, my dear wife, are sweet and understanding enough to give me a reason for doing so." My head buzzes loudly at that moment. I can feel my blood running cold in my veins. Finally, I realize that this is just a trap that Matteo has set up for me. That's when I completely break down. With tears streaming down my cheeks, I do my best to flee from my room, only to get thrown into the punishment chamber in the end. What he doesn't know is that I'm already pregnant at that time. One year later, the punishment chamber's door is finally opened. Sunlight is cast onto my pale face. Everyone tells me that Matteo is here to take me home. Instead of saying anything, I take my phone and head over to a secluded corner, where I place a phone call. "I got released, Mr. Lombardi. Let's meet up."

The air in the Parisian haute couture salon smelled like money and fear. I’d waited six months for my wedding dress. Now, it was draped over the shoulders of Sofia Ross—the trending influencer, and my mafia fiancé Vincent Cassio’s god-sister. The salon manager was sweating bullets, his eyes darting between me and the man lounging on the velvet sofa. Vincent Cassio stood up. He adjusted a fold of the diamond-encrusted train on Sofia with a casual flick of his wrist. “Her premiere next week needs a statement piece. She’s borrowing it. Pick something off the rack and stop making a scene.” His tone was flat, final. Under the crystal chandeliers, Sofia admired herself in the full-length mirror, a triumphant smile on her lips. I looked at my reflection in the same mirror, wearing jeans and a soaked trench coat. I looked like a lost tourist. Suddenly, the entire past year of planning felt like a sick joke. I didn’t yell. I just felt cold. Numb. I slipped the five-carat engagement ring off my finger. It hit the glass coffee table with a sharp, final click. “You’re right, Vincent. I don’t need this wedding dress. This wedding… I don’t need it either.”

My older sister, Jovina Valenti, catches the eye of the cold and ruthless mafia Don, Carlo Laguardia. However, she fears the danger that arises out of his identity and wants to go abroad to pursue a passionate romance. On the day Carlo sends his men to retrieve her, she drugs my drink and sends me to Carlo. After that, she leaves the country and disappears completely. I, Nerissa Valenti, am forced to become Carlo's wife. He treats me as nothing more than a pet. Despite being married, I ignore Carlo's existence and treat him as if he were invisible. He, on the other hand, continues to make me his pet. When he's pleased with me, he shows me affection. But when I upset him, what awaits me is either cold neglect or harsh reproach. After eight years of this, one day, Carlo suddenly orders that I be locked inside the freezing ice house. I tremble from the cold. When I see Jovina at his side, I realize belatedly that she has, for some reason, decided to return to the country. The first thing she does upon her return is seek Carlo out and lie to him that I drugged myself back then to take her place. Consequently, she was heartbroken and decided to go overseas. Jovina stresses that because of my interference, they spent eight long years being apart from each other. From that moment on, there isn't a trace of emotion left in Carlo's eyes when he looks at me. Under the excuse of visiting me, Jovina comes to the ice house and tampers with the settings. She puts the cold air on full blast at the lowest temperature. "Don't blame me for this, Nerissa. As long as you're alive, my lie will be exposed sooner or later," she says ruthlessly. I don't even last half a day before freezing to death miserably. When I open my eyes again, I return to the day Jovina first catches Carlo's attention. This time, I take the initiative to say, "Jovina, go abroad and look for your true love. I'll marry Carlo in your place." This time, the one Carlo loves will be me.

I was fifteen when the Don of the Volkov family, Hudson Volkov, took me in. To the world, Hudson was a cold-blooded wolf. But with me, he was gentle. Patient. He was my guardian, and the man I’d loved for ten years. I dreamed of being his woman. It took me taking three bullets meant for him for the old man to finally give his blessing. But while I was recovering, Hudson announced he was marrying Bianca, the daughter of a man who’d saved his life. Last time, I threw a fit. I cried and screamed until Hudson gave in. He promised he’d marry me and leave Bianca. But on our wedding day, Bianca was snatched. She called Hudson for help, over and over, but he was at the altar with me. He never picked up. She died. Hudson was torn apart by guilt, and he blamed me. "If it wasn't for your selfish jealousy, Bianca would still be alive!" I open my eyes, and I'm back. It's the day of their engagement party. This time, I just smile. "Congratulations on your wedding, Uncle Hudson." I decided to let him go. To stop fighting for him.

After my rebirth, I decided to draw a hard line between myself and the heir of the Mafia Family, Carlo Gutierrez. He had his golden retriever take my seat and told everyone I wasn't even fit to touch dog food at his party. After that, I never sat at the main table again. He complained that my voice was giving him a headache and got in the way of his business, so I muted myself in front of him. He sneered that I reeked, so I packed up and went back to my rundown apartment in the slums, never setting foot on his territory again. In the end, he said just having me around would ruin his marriage alliance with the Moreno Family's Principessa. I nodded, then accepted someone else's proposal without hesitation. I made the choices opposite to what I made in my last life. After I married him in my previous life, the Moreno Family's Principessa was killed in a shootout. Carlo concluded I was the culprit and threw me into the basement for torture before finally throwing my body into the sea. Later, when he saw me with another man, he confronted me with red eyes. "Rosa Shaw, you've had your fun. Come back with me, and I'll pretend none of this ever happened!"

On the night of my 18th birthday, Enzo Vitale holds me by the waist as he coaxes me to take off my underwear. "Good girl. You have a beautiful body, Isabella. Let me take a good look at you." But just when I'm about to reach my climax, the spotlight is turned on. The floor-to-ceiling mirror in front of me becomes a see-through one-way mirror. On the other side of the mirror shows the faces of all the guests who are here to attend my birthday party. Soon, the racy video of my lustful side is spread all over Newlyn. My reputation gets flushed down the drain overnight, and yet Enzo's reputation remains unaffected. On the night we break up, he leaves me a message. "Your brother had watched my sister getting kidnapped by others back then. Now, it's your turn to have a taste of what it feels like, Isabella. You owe me this much." My older brother, Marco Rossi, is enraged, to say the least. When he tries to demand an explanation from Enzo, he gets his legs broken by Enzo's bodyguards instead. Marco drags his broken legs home. But on his way home, he gets into a car crash due to severe pain and blood loss, reducing him to a vegetable. In order to afford the daily eight-thousand-dollar ICU bill, I become the most famous stripper in Newlyn. For the next three years, I flit between various nightclubs in Newlyn as well as various men's beds. I've been trading my pride and body in exchange for checks. Three years later, I knock on a hotel room's door as usual. The door opens, revealing a man wearing a custom-ordered dark gray suit. It's Enzo. He's thinner now, and his cheekbones protrude even more. His eyes are as glacial as frozen lakes. I smile brightly at him. "Sir, would you like any special services?"

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.

In the seventh year of holding down the Chicago arms trade for Matteo, he finally came back from the Mediterranean. The night the Five Families threw him his coronation ball, I put on my custom gown. I was ready to see the man I had waited seven years for. Right before my entrance, my cousin Vivienne barged into the dressing room. She did our books, and she snatched the head-table nameplate off my table. She looked at me with cold pity. "Camilla, don't embarrass yourself. The seat for the Don's wife was never meant for you." She slammed a yellowed betting slip from a Vegas underground bookmaker onto the table. The wager was a hundred grand. The name on the ticket was Matteo. The betting line had just one sentence: Let's see how many years the ruined Bellini princess will stay faithful to my old love letters. Vivienne told me the truth. He kept a stripper overseas years ago. His bastard daughter was almost five now. The Commission knew. His capos looked the other way. Even my own mother, living on his handouts, helped him keep it completely quiet. For seven years, he sent handwritten letters sealed with wax. Every single one went on and on about the Sicilian rain. He wrote about how much he missed me. He told me to keep the house safe. Just for those sweet words, I took bullets for him. I stayed by the bedside of the dying old Don until his last breath. I survived firefight after firefight. The entire underworld knew about this bet. I was the only fool in the dark. My eyes burned, and I laughed. Fine. I would walk right out of his empire, in front of every boss in America.