Feel-Good Story Short Stories & Mafia Fake Death Novels

Three years ago, during a brutal war with a rival family, my fiancé Warren took a bullet for me. To protect me, he dragged the enemy down a cliff with him. I never found his body—only his blood-soaked suit. On the day of his funeral, I stood in the pouring rain all night, swearing to make our enemies pay in blood. Three years later, I had wiped out every mafia family on the West Coast, becoming the cold-blooded, ruthless Donna everyone feared. On the anniversary of Warren's death, I took my gun to the cliff where he fell. "Warren, I can finally come see you." "Living without you... it's been hell." Just as I pressed the barrel to my temple, the bells of a nearby chapel rang. To my surprise, I saw my top Capos walking inside. Frowning, I quietly followed them in. But standing at the altar, saying his vows, was my "dead" fiancé, Warren. And the woman snuggled in his arms was my own sister, Chloe. Right as the guests erupted in cheers, they shared a deep, passionate kiss. I froze, my blood running cold.

My husband's first love, Daeleen Reed, is abducted and murdered by the Wood family, a mafia family. The final call she makes before her death is to my husband. "Samuel, Louise's green eyes are beautiful. If there is an afterlife, I hope I can have a pair of eyes like that so I can always gaze at you with them." My husband, Samuel Sterling, is the Capo of the Sterling family, a mafia family based on the West Coast. Instead of getting revenge on the Wood family, he comes home and forces me onto an operating table. "Daeleen says she loved your eyes. That was her dying wish, and I will make it come true." I clutch my stomach and grovel at his feet. I beg him to let me off the hook. I've yet to witness our child's birth—I can't lose my eyes! However, Samuel thinks I'm using my pregnancy as an excuse to not give up my eyes. "You can't be so selfish, Louise. You'll only be losing your eyes—you'll be fine." Daeleen is the only one who holds his heart. I am left with nothing but a world of darkness. Later, I drag my broken body into the sea. I forge ahead until I'm submerged. That's when Samuel goes insane.

I knew Leon Hall was in love with someone else. To protect that woman, he left me behind time and time again. For five years, I loved him. So I endured another woman at the Hall Family's dinner table. I endured her moving through our waterfront estate as if it were hers. And I endured the same excuse every time I objected: "She has no one else." That ended today, the day Leon and I were supposed to go to the county clerk's office for our marriage license. I waited at the county clerk's office all day. I called him ten times. He finally texted two words: "Wait for me." I stayed until the clerk locked the doors for the night. Leon never came. I followed his location to a VIP lounge at a private nightclub owned by the Hall Family. He had Elena Russo cradled against his chest, murmuring to her as if she might shatter in his arms. When he saw me, a flicker of panic crossed Leon's face, but he didn't let go of her. "Elena had a fight with her husband, Damian Russo. She ran out and got drunk. I can't leave her like this." I stared at him. "So you left me waiting at the county clerk's office all day?" Leon frowned, utterly unapologetic. "We can get the license another day. Damian nearly beat her to death tonight. I wasn't going to abandon her." In that moment, I didn't even have the energy to argue. Carrying a relationship alone was exhausting. I was done.

Everyone knew Salvatore Romano, head of the Romano crime family, had never shown any interest in women. During our three years of marriage, I was the one special exception. Until my sister Lucia showed up. He said he despised picky eaters because he'd nearly starved to death once. Yet the dishes Lucia didn't like disappeared from the table the very next day. He said blondes were shallow. So for three years, I dyed my golden hair black without fail. Lucia wore her blonde hair wild and radiant, and he presented her with a pale yellow diamond necklace. He declared that at every banquet hosted by the Romano Family, no one was allowed to wear the same jewelry as her. To coax a smile from Lucia, he filled the entire garden with lilies. He forgot that I was allergic to pollen. He told her, "If only I'd met you sooner." He told me, "Because of you, Lucia always feels so uncomfortable." I let out a cold laugh, turned, and walked away without looking back.

Eight months pregnant, a contraction tore through me like a blade. But my husband, the Mafia boss Darren, refused to take me to the hospital. His sister-in-law, Angelina, his late brother's widow, was also due. To ensure she gave birth before me, she produced so-called proof of my infidelity, insisting the child I carried was no true Falcone. Because the heir to the Falcone family had to be the firstborn grandson. Darren believed her. He locked me in an abandoned wine cellar. “Don't think for a second I don't know what you've been up to.” “Let me tell you, you're not giving birth to that bastard until I've verified its bloodline myself.” “Angelina’s boy is of pure blood. I have to make sure her boy is the family's firstborn grandson.” I tried desperately to explain. “My water is about to break! Please, take me to the hospital! He’s your son, I swear on my life!” “I’ll never fight for the position of heir! I just want my baby to be safe!” Darren simply kicked me and shot me a glance. “Who knows if you’ll change your mind later? Don’t worry. I’ll come for you after Angelina gives birth. When the baby is born, I’ll see for myself whose it is.” Later, as he gazed at the crying infant in Angelina's arms, he finally thought of me. But one of his men informed him, his voice trembling: “Boss, the Madam… and the child… they're both dead.”

Papa announces that whoever is accepted into a Rose League university will be named the successor of the Romano family. Papa is already prepared to give me the successor's signet ring when I receive an acceptance letter from Harmond University. However, seconds before he gives the ring to me, a video of me leaking the Romano family's secrets to a rival family plays on the big screen. Overnight, I become a traitor who everyone despises, falling from my position as the favored successor. My fiance, Lorenzo Caruso, steps forward to defend me, but he's rendered speechless by the conclusive evidence. By the time the supervisory committee rushes onto the scene and declares that the surveillance footage and family secrets are fake, Papa has slipped the signet ring onto my stepsister Isabella Romano's finger. "I can't change the successor anymore," Papa says. "The other Dons have already verified the successor's name. Who will listen to my orders in the future if I go back on my decision now?" I leave the estate, clutching the acceptance letter from Harmond University. From that day on, I refuse to pick up Papa's calls. But when I hear about how he has been admitted to the family's private hospital because I've been giving him the cold shoulder, I can't help myself and return home to visit him. As I stand outside his hospital room, I hear my stepmother, Veronica Tonetti, laughing inside. "You're really something else. How did you come up with pretending to be sick to trick Sophia into coming back?" Papa chuckles and says, "Sophia has already been accepted into Harmond University. She has a bright future ahead of her even if she's not the successor. "Isabella's different. She's not going to receive an education from a prestigious school, and she doesn't have her own family. The other families will bully her if I don't name her as the successor of the Romano family." "We have to thank Lorenzo this time," Veronica says with a nod. "If he didn't give Sophia's private key to us, we wouldn't have been able to forge those records of her leaking the family secrets."

Three months since my husband, Julian Moretti, disappeared. I walked into his favorite den, the grief so deep it stole the air from my lungs. I just wanted to breathe him in, to find any trace of him that was left. Then I heard it. A familiar laugh. And the soft moan of a woman. Through a crack in the door, I saw him. My husband, the man "missing" for three months, had his hand tangled in another woman's hair. "Baby, just a little longer," he said. "Soon as I siphon enough cash from the family's books, we're gone. You and me." In his arms was Bianca, from the Rosso family. "What about your wife?" she purred. "Let her play the grieving widow. She's nothing without me anyway." My fists clenched. The world went quiet, my blood turning to ice. The next day, I put the word out to the entire Family. "I'm holding a memorial mass for my husband." At the service, he stormed in, a ghost returned from the grave, roaring that he was alive and there to take back what was his. But I was standing next to his uncle, Dante Moretti, and all I did was stare him down. "Then explain," I said, my voice cutting through the silence. "Explain the woman. Explain the money. Explain your betrayal... to the Family. And to me."

I was bleeding out in a corner after a hit from a rival family. My husband, Dante—the Torrino family’s underboss—was in his car, holding his best friend's little sister. He gave me one cold look and said, "Leave her. She's a nobody." Later, after someone else saved me, I walked home, soaked in my own blood. I found Dante cradling Seraphina, fussing over her. All she had was a scraped knee. The blood covering my clothes? He didn't even see it. I just watched. Said nothing. Then I pulled out my phone and called my mother. "Mom, I need to come home."