Mafia Familial Bond の短編小説 & 小説

After five years of marriage, the doctor told me I was pregnant. It was something I had waited for so long. Yet, along with that good news came a nightmare. My medical tests showed that I had cancer, and it had already spread. The doctor gave me less than a month to live. I froze, gripping the report so tightly my knuckles turned white. Tears streamed down my face as I thought about how my unborn child would never get to feel a mother's embrace. My grief was interrupted by the ping of an incoming text message. It was from Mom. [Since you're so selfish and refuse to donate a kidney to save Nattie's life, you should divorce Davon. Let him marry Nattie instead. At least that way, you can fulfill her dying wish.] My tears fell harder. It was not that I refused to donate a kidney to Natalie Rivera, my sister, who was in the final stages of kidney disease. In truth, I only had one kidney left. Five years ago, I had already given one to Dad. Now, with my life counting down to its final days, I decided that I would donate my remaining kidney to Natalie. I would also let my husband, Davon Parker, go with her. Before I went into surgery, my parents praised me for finally being thoughtful, saying I had finally learned to care about my sister. They said that once the surgery was over, the whole family would go on vacation together. Davon even said he was proud that I was no longer selfish and promised he would make it up to me in the future. None of them knew I did not have a future. After the surgery, what would be pushed out of the operating room would be a cold, lifeless body.

My twin sister, Bianca, tried to kill herself because I was better than her at school. Apparently, my success triggered her. So my parents sent me away from the Bellini estate. “Only until the college decisions come out,” Mother promised. “Then you can come home.” Behind her, my brother, Dante, helped Bianca choose her new armored Bentley. My boyfriend, Luca, stood beside them, holding Bianca’s favorite white roses. “If anything happens, call us, Valentina.” I did. A month later, a drunk man showed up at my door and wouldn't stop pounding. I locked myself in the bathroom and called my family again and again. Every call was declined. Near dawn, Mother finally texted. Sorry, sweetheart. We were celebrating Bianca’s birthday. Seeing your name might have upset her. After that, I stopped asking for help. The last college decision arrived, but they still wouldn’t let me return. Then, at our eighteenth-birthday gala, the Bellinis presented Bianca to New York as their beloved and only principessa. Mother sent me another message. Your sister still needs time. Please wait. This time, I was done waiting. They didn’t know I had already accepted my offer from MIT. I was leaving the Bellini family behind.

In the Ferro family, every daughter received a black onyx ring before getting married. The stone was jet-black, with the Ferro family's signature F engraved in the center. My father said it wasn't jewelry. It was a Ferro family vow. As long as you wore it, the whole Ferro family would have your back, wherever marriage took you. My twin sister, Lucia Ferro, and I were getting married on the same day. But in the days leading up to the wedding, my father brought out only one velvet ring box. Lucia held out her hand in delight as our relatives raised their glasses. I stared at my bare ring finger, then turned to my mother. "Where's mine?" My mother, Margaret Ferro, avoided my eyes and pretended to study the oil painting on the wall. My brother, Victor Ferro, kept cutting his steak and didn't even look up. "Lucia's marrying into the Cassano family. She needs to walk in with some real weight behind her. We melted your ring down and added the gold to her band." My father, Robert Ferro, sipped his red wine, his tone perfectly flat. "The Cassano family has strict rules. She needs them to know the Ferro family is behind her all the way. Your fiancé, Aiden Brooks, is just an ordinary doctor who has nothing to do with the family business. You'll never need a ring like that." I stared at the harsh gleam of gold around Lucia's finger. I remembered the year I turned 18, when my father let me touch his ring for the first time. He'd looked at me and sworn that as long as my last name was Ferro, I'd always have someone in my corner. Only now did I understand that he hadn't been lying. I simply wasn't the Ferro he meant to protect.

My mother, Donna Isabella, had one rule. Every major family verdict was decided by a set of custom chips. One for each of us. The side with the family crest meant protection. Backing. The blank side meant accusation. Guilt. Majority rules. Once, my brother Nico broke a priceless vase and blamed it on me. Isabella saw the whole thing happen. But she still slammed her chip onto the table in front of everyone. Blank side up. I was locked in the damp wine cellar for a week. "Nico is the heir to the family," she told me. "Take the fall for him. It's your duty." Then there was my sister, Sofia. She flaunted the "Heart of Eternity" necklace right in my face. It was my design. It was supposed to be my engagement gift. I snatched it back, and she ran crying to Mother. Isabella called another family meeting. The chips on the table? All blank-side up. Sofia kept the necklace around her neck, and I had to apologize. But I was born stubborn. Put a gun to my head. I still won't confess. Isabella pointed at the chips. "Your father and brother voted against you. Are we all liars?" Until the day on the yacht. I caught my fiancé. Naked. Tangled in the sheets with my sweet, pathetic little sister. Isabella didn't ask why they betrayed the engagement. Instead, she slapped me hard across the face. Then she brought out that chip box. Five blanks. One crest. My fiancé, Julian, flipped the last blank chip himself. "Aurora, Sofia swore she'd go to a convent. Why are you doing this?" I picked up that single, lonely crest-side-up chip and threw it back into the box. "I did nothing wrong." Isabella stared at me. She slowly shut the box. "Today, you're going to learn something. In our world, 'right or wrong' doesn't mean a damn thing." ...

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.

I was supposed to stand beside my fiancé, Marco Bellini, at the charity gala. Both our families had assumed for years that we would marry. This was my first time attending their most formal social event as his future wife. But 20 minutes before the gala, my father suddenly changed the plan. "Sophia Ricci will stand beside Marco tonight. The foundation is honoring her father, Lorenzo Ricci, so she should be the one to welcome the guests." I turned to Marco. "You agree with this?" After a moment, he said, "It's one night. Don't make such a big deal out of it." And just like that, the guest list I'd spent two weeks preparing went to Sophia. Once the gala began, an older guest who hadn't seen us in years smiled at them. "So the Bellini family and the Moretti family are finally getting these two engaged?" Everyone laughed. I stood a few steps away, looking only at Marco. All he had to say was, "You've got the wrong idea." But first he looked at Sophia. She looked uncomfortable, so he smiled and changed the subject. "Tonight is about the foundation. Let's leave our private lives out of it." He never explained who I was. And he never came back to my side. Three days later, I became the Ferraro family's only outside partner on their West Coast project. I was done with the rest of them.

It’s been five years since my mother married into the Sterling crime family, and my relationship with my stepbrother, Louis, is still ice-cold. He’s arrogant, aloof, and wouldn’t give me the time of day. I know better than to even try. Until I saw it: a birthmark on Louis’s body, identical to the one on my online boyfriend, Rowan. I thought about the messages Rowan had sent me every night for the past two years, the ones that made my face flush and my heart race: Baby, I can only fall asleep thinking of you. I need to see you. I’ll show you how much I want you. I’m going crazy thinking about you… I just couldn’t square the man in those messages with the cold-as-ice Louis. To make matters worse, I had just lied to Rowan, telling him I’d failed to get into Harvard and wasn't good enough for him, before breaking up with him. If he finds out it was me who dumped him, I’m pretty sure he’ll tear me to pieces. I was already packing my bags, ready to bolt. But then Louis appeared, blocking my path. He leaned in, his low laugh a menacing rumble in my ear. "Think you can play me and just walk away? Who gave you the balls?"

When my stepsister took my bedroom, my birthday party, and the sewing case my mother had left me, my father told me to be generous. A Moretti daughter could afford it, he said. My brother and Luca took me to a bakery that night. Between them, they bought the biggest strawberry cake in the window. “You still have us,” Luca promised. For nine years, I believed him. Then, just before our wedding, Matteo bought back my mother's missing pendant, and Luca found the bridal coat she'd made for me before she died. I thought they understood what those things meant. Until Valentina came downstairs wearing both. “I only wanted to see how it felt,” she said, her eyes filling. “I've never really belonged here.” My brother stepped between us before I could speak. Luca reached for my hand, already preparing to ask me to be kind. “You're going to be my wife, Emilia. She just needs to feel safe.” He loved me. I knew that. What I no longer knew was whether being loved by him would ever mean being chosen when it mattered. That evening, I canceled the wedding and accepted a job at my mother's struggling couture house in Paris. By the time the future Don came looking for his bride, I had returned the family ring—and left him no wedding to save.

I woke up from a three-year coma to find another woman beside my parents and my fiancé, Matteo Rossi. Her name was Sofia Bellini, and she had spent those three years with them in my place. Her father, Sal Bellini, had died saving my life in a gunfight. So after I woke up, no one could bring themselves to send her away. I felt guilty too. So whenever she helped herself to my things and my privileges, I let her. I kept letting her, right up until the day Matteo and I were supposed to get married, when my own parents begged me in tears to let my fiancé go save another woman. In the dressing room, I stood in my wedding dress and looked over at Matteo by the window. He was smoking a cigar, his mind somewhere else. I'd known him for more than ten years. One look told me he was torn and worried. The church bells had already rung once. Out there, over 200 guests were waiting for the groom to show up. But Matteo was gripping his phone. On the screen was the last text Sofia had sent him. "Go get married. Don't worry about me." She had ditched her guards and walked alone into a nightclub controlled by our enemies. Now there was gunfire inside. In the end, Matteo came over to me. "I'll go get her. An hour, tops, and I'll be back to finish the ceremony." With that, he turned and walked out. My father went right after him with his men. My mother hesitated for two seconds. Then she let go of my hand too. Twelve minutes later, I walked into the church alone and told every guest the wedding was off.

My sister was autistic. The doctors called it "severe sensory overload." The rule was simple: No sudden noises. Ever. So my whole life was set to mute. I never wore heels. I never raised my voice. I wasn't even allowed to laugh. It was all to keep her from having a meltdown. My father, Victor, the Don of the Castellano family, would grip my shoulder. His face was a mask of apology. "Sera, you're my good girl. Protecting your sister is our duty. You're healthy and strong. You can sacrifice a little for her, can't you?" That day, I was on the second-floor terrace and accidentally knocked over a pot of white roses. The sound of it shattering sent my sister, who was sunbathing in the garden below, into a meltdown. For the first time, Victor glared at me like I was the enemy. He roared, "Can't you just be quiet? Do you want to drive her insane?" My sister backed away in terror, right into a glass table, and let out a piercing scream. Victor charged past me, a blur of rage and panic. He slammed into me on the stairs as I was running down to help. I lost my footing and crashed chest-first into the sharp corner of a wrought-iron banister post. Pain exploded in my chest. I opened my mouth to scream, but only silence came out. My family swarmed around my shrieking sister. No one even glanced at me. My lungs filled with blood. I was drowning on the floor. They all thought my sister, the one with autism, needed the family's comfort. They thought I just took a fall. That I could wait. They were wrong.

I've been married to my Mafia Boss husband for 15 years. When we first got married, he couldn't even afford a ring, but I didn't care; I loved him. I hid my identity. I secretly used my family's influence to help him build his empire from scratch, and I even bore him two children. His adopted sister always mocked me, calling me an old-fashioned housewife and saying I wasn't good enough for him. To avoid embarrassing him, I always endured it. Until our 15th anniversary, because both me and his adopted sister wore red dresses, he told me to stay in the kitchen: "Sofia's right. That red doesn't suit you. Don't come out until the banquet actually ends. Stay in the kitchen. I don't need the Dons from New York seeing you and getting the wrong impression." I was completely heartbroken and didn't argue anymore. I dialed a number I hadn't made in 15 years: "Principessa?" "It's me," I said, my voice steady. "Tell those old fossils on the Council... Isabella Corleone is coming home."

My husband, Don Damiano Caruso's adopted sister, Caterina Caruso, has gone missing when she's three months pregnant. The security footage shows that I'm the last person she's met before her disappearance. The family elders request me to provide them with clues of Caterina's whereabouts. Damiano's mother, Teresa Bellandi, even gets down on her knees to plead with me to help find the missing Caterina. Still, my only answer is silence. I initially thought that Damiano would get a divorce from me out of disappointment. But he still continues to love and dote on me, as though nothing has happened. When I first get pregnant, the R&D team that Damiano has invested an astronomical amount of money into has finally invented a device that can extract memories from human brains. Damiano lures me to the council hall of the Caruso family. There, he extracts my memories in front of the entire family. I keep begging him to change his mind by explaining that this device will hurt our unborn child. But Damiano merely replies icily, "Bianca, the medical team has already conducted a check-up on you. You're in top health this whole time. I can't believe you're capable of lying about your pregnancy just to hide the truth! "I will uncover the truth no matter what!" But once everyone digs up the truth from my memories, Damiano and the entire Caruso family go insane.

On the day my fiancé, Raphael Moretti, and I were supposed to get our marriage license at city hall, I dressed with care. But by noon, he still hadn't shown up. Aurelia De Luca video-called me. "Sofia, where are you? Raphael's been waiting for you all day." Panic hit me. "Weren't we signing in Palermo?" Aurelia frowned. "It's Taormina, Sofia. Everyone's been waiting for a long time." I drove straight to Taormina. When I arrived, no one was there. When the video connected, Aurelia was crouched on the ground, laughing hard. "Sofia, don't tell me you actually went. We're already on Lipari. Raphael's setting up the wedding venue to surprise you." I left my car at the port and took a boat to Lipari. The water was rough. I threw up the whole way, and my makeup ran down my face. But when I arrived, no one answered my calls. I waited alone outside city hall until it closed, not knowing what else to do. Aurelia suddenly appeared behind me in a straw hat and smacked me hard on the back. "You really chased us all the way here? The underboss and Raphael only came to keep me company on vacation." I spun around with a yelp. My heel caught on the step, and I fell. Raphael stood there holding Aurelia's shopping bags and purse. "Didn't we agree to get our marriage license after the trip? You couldn't wait? You had to chase us all the way here?" My uncle, Vincenzo Ferraro, saw my pale face and frowned. "Lia is the cheerful one. You've been timid since you were a child. How are you ever going to take over the family?" Seeing Aurelia's smug smile, I didn't even feel like confronting her anymore. I wasn't angry. I wasn't sad. I just wanted to escape a home that had never felt like mine. I only had to stay away from the people and places that made me miserable. For good.

In the Bellini Family, every Principessa received a gemstone at birth. On her eighteenth birthday, the Don set it into her induction crown, granting her the power and protection of the Bellini name. A week before my twin sister Bianca and I turned eighteen, my brother brought home our crowns. Bianca’s glittered with two diamonds. “Why does she have my diamond?” I asked. Marco shrugged. “Bianca wanted more sparkle.” Then he handed me an old crown from the family vault. It was tarnished and missing half its stones. Mother sighed. “It’s still a Bellini crown, Elena. Don’t ruin the induction over a piece of jewelry.” All my life, I had given up one thing after another for Bianca. I thought the induction would finally prove that I belonged to this family too. Instead, they erased me again. My phone vibrated with MIT’s final admission deadline. This time, I pressed ACCEPT. If the Bellinis had no place for me, I would stop sacrificing myself to to remain part of theirs.

I grew up fatherless, clawing my way through the Chicago underbelly with my mom. She always said he loved us. That he just had to go far, far away. Until she got terminally ill. I dropped out of design school and rushed back, ready to drain our life savings to treat her. But she put a pair of scissors to her own throat. She told me not to touch the cash. It was the only thing she had to leave me. I pretended to agree. But the second I turned around, I took our fifty grand and ran to Mr. Sal, the neighborhood's back-alley doctor. I begged him to save her. "Fifty grand? This buys her three months. Tops." He lit a cigarette. Through the smoke, his eyes bored into me. Like he was looking at a ghost. "Your mother... she was once the brightest jewel in Chicago. Gave it all up for a man. That man took her money and became the city's real estate king. He's Mob-connected. Maybe you should go ask him for help." I took that poison home with me. And I didn't breathe a word. When she found out I spent the money, she held me and cried. "My foolish girl, why are you so stubborn? I'm dying anyway. What about your school? How will you pay for it?" But while I took care of her, I tore through all her old things, looking for proof of that bastard's betrayal. On the night of his empire's 20th-anniversary gala, I crashed his party. I brought two things: a blood-stained marriage certificate, and a lawyer. "I'm looking for Nico Russo. He can either honor a twenty-year-old marriage... or he can sign these divorce papers."

In my past life, the Vitale crime family finally claimed me. But my own brother—the family heir—framed me. To protect his precious adopted sister, he accused me of causing her heart attack. My real parents believed him. They dragged me out and dumped me at the iron gates of the family estate. "You're a monster. You don't deserve the Vitale name." Soon after, a rival family tracked me down. I bled out on the cold asphalt. When I opened my eyes, I was back. Back to the exact night that sealed my fate. Nico blocked the current Don, Vincent. He pressed a gun to my forehead. "Father, she's not my sister! She's an imposter!" Disappointment and disgust flashed in their eyes before they turned their backs, disappearing into the dark. I stood in the pouring rain, gripping the family crest pendant—the only proof of my bloodline. Those foolish hopes for family love froze completely in that moment. I didn't argue. I didn't look back. I just vanished into the rainy night. Ten years later, I became the most mysterious surgeon in the North American underworld. Code name: Dawn. Now, the man sitting across from me is Nico Vitale—the family's new Underboss. His hands tremble as he slides a file across my desk. His voice is hoarse. "Doctor, please... you have to save my sister." I stop when I see the name: Isabella Vitale. I look up at his face. Bloodshot eyes. His old arrogance completely gone. I stare at him for a long, long time. Long enough to push down the bloody memories. Finally, I speak. "Your sister... I'm not saving her."

My twin sister and I were supposed to celebrate our succession on the same night. Beth Moretti would inherit the family's weapons business in Naples. Her portrait towered over the banquet hall on a massive screen as the elders gathered around her, showering her with praise. Our parents, Vincent Moretti and Elena Moretti, couldn't have looked prouder. "Beth has always been exceptional. She was at the top of her class, won countless awards, and was already managing the family stables at eighteen." I stood alone in the corner, completely ignored. By the time anyone remembered me, the gala was almost over. One of the elders happened to spot me. "What about Monica? What will she be taking over?" My parents froze. For a moment, neither of them had an answer. Beth gave a small laugh. "Nothing important, I think?" Everyone laughed with her. I kept quiet. I had apparently been put in charge of the family armory, though no one had even bothered to tell me themselves. My father finally looked my way. "At least she stays out of trouble. That's good enough." Of course I stayed out of trouble. They had sent me to boarding school when I was four and left me to grow up on my own. I learned early how to take care of myself because no one else would. During school breaks, my parents would take Beth on vacation while I stayed behind. To them, I had always been the daughter they could forget. So yes, I was easy. I had learned a long time ago not to expect anything from them. After the gala, I went looking for my family. They were nowhere to be found. Then I learned they had already gone home with Beth. I took a deep breath, pulled up the Turner family's invitation from two months ago, and typed, "I accept." Then I booked the earliest flight out. This family had forgotten me for years. Now they could forget me for good.

In the Cesare family, every bride's wedding gown had to be handmade by an elder. Tradition held that the more elaborate the gown, the happier the marriage would be. My twin sister and I were getting married on the same day. At the fitting, Cersei's gown was breathtaking. Tens of thousands of crystals and diamonds covered its sweeping train. Mom had spent more than six months weaving the delicate lace for her veil by hand. "Cersei, my darling, you look so beautiful!" Mom gazed at her, her eyes filling with tears. "When you walk down the aisle to Antonio in that gown, every guest will be speechless!" Then I looked at mine. The seams were sloppy, the fabric was wrinkled, and there was not a single decoration on it. Worse, it had been stitched together from scraps left over from Cersei's gown. "Mom, Dad, is this my wedding gown?" Dad immediately shot me an annoyed look. "Is there a problem? Your sister is marrying the son of the Di Lauro family's capo. If her gown isn't lavish enough, both families will be humiliated! That bookish nobody you're marrying is just some low-level lackey who opens car doors for his boss. When we met him, he even tried to make himself sound impressive by claiming he owned a startup!" Mom made no effort to hide her contempt. "If you wore anything fancier to marry a man like that, his family would think you were showing off." Cersei quickly chimed in with a smug smile. "Exactly, Lilith. Mom and Dad are only looking out for you. Don't be ungrateful!" "Bookish nobody?" I almost laughed. Raphael was the Don's chosen successor. He simply kept a low profile and never flaunted his position. To outsiders, he described himself only as a businessman. So where had this nonsense about him being some employee who opened car doors come from? "Sorry, Lilith. I happened to see Raphael opening a car door for someone, so I told Mom and Dad what I saw. You don't mind, do you?" Cersei sounded apologetic, but the mockery in her eyes said otherwise. I shook my head

Bianca and I were switched before birth. She became the beloved daughter of both families. I became the girl neither one wanted. Every month, I carried a suitcase between two guest rooms while Bianca kept a bedroom, parents, and a place at the table in both estates. Then Bianca was diagnosed with a deadly blood disorder, and both families demanded that I become her stem cell donor. There was only one problem. My donor screening showed that I might be seriously ill too. They refused to read my medical report. They called my nosebleed an attention-seeking stunt. Then they forced me to voluntarily surrender every claim to both families before they would pay for my tests. The next day, I learned the truth. I had acute leukemia. Bianca had never completed the examination required to prove she was sick. I sent both families the evidence. They still didn't believe me. When they asked what I thought, I smiled and agreed to let them fly Bianca to Europe for treatment. They praised me for finally learning. While Bianca received treatment overseas, I suffered a fatal brain hemorrhage alone. As I took my final breath, I couldn't help wondering. Would they finally regret never thinking to spend more time with me?

After the engagement dinner, my grandmother was hauled down to the family's dungeons. The order was given by Serena, who handled the finances for my husband-to-be, Vincent, the heir to the Moretti family. Vincent himself led her down, refusing to hear a word of explanation. "The late Don's wife's diamond cross is missing. Your grandmother was the only guest not part of the family. If she didn't take it, who did?" Serena stood at the top of the stairs, her arrogant gaze sweeping over my face. It was laughable. Based on nothing but Serena's word, they could lock an old woman away. "She stays down there for every day the cross is missing. But that's one thing, our wedding is another. We're still on for next month." I glanced down at the diamond ring on my finger, engraved with the family crest. Exhaustion washed over me. This whole marriage felt meaningless.