Plot Twists Short Stories & Mafia Karma Novels

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?”

Alessandra Colombo, the Donna of the Marchetti Famiglia, is a Malvorn native. Yet, during her 35th birthday celebration, Carina Esposito, my husband's foster sister, presents her with a bouquet of yellow chrysanthemums, which actually symbolize death in Malvorn. I choose not to warn Carina about it, though. It is because in my past life, I disregarded Leone Vittorio's, my husband's, objections and threw that bouquet into the trash for the very survival of the Vittorio Famiglia. Leone binds my hands and dumps me into the dumpster after the banquet and says, "Carina cried for five minutes because of your actions, so I'm punishing you with five days in the dumpster, Valentina. You should reflect on your mistakes during this time and stop crossing Carina." I spend five days without water, feeling rats bite at me in the endless darkness. On the sixth day, Leone's Soldati force me to kneel in the scorching 104-degree sun to apologize. Meanwhile, Leone is inside the house, picking up a piece of watermelon and feeding it to Carina. I eventually die in the midst of agonizing pain. I open my eyes again, only to find out that I'm back at the birthday banquet. I silently watch Carina step forward and present the bouquet of yellow chrysanthemums to Donna Marchetti. "Happy birthday, Donna Marchetti—here's to many more!" I make no move to interfere this time around.

On the night of my engagement party, my mother and I were sipping champagne in the VIP room of a couture shop. That’s when my fiancé’s secretary sent me a video. In the video, Camilla was pinning a middle-aged woman to the floor. She drove her diamond-studded heel into the woman’s face. Over and over. “Serafina, you cheap, pretentious little bitch. Did you really think that just because you fucked the Boss and got a ring, your mother could sneak into his vault and steal his diamonds?” Another sharp kick from the stiletto. The woman’s face was a bloody pulp. A weak gasp of pain escaped her lips. “Rats from the sewer. Always wanting what isn’t yours. I’m the only woman the Boss trusts. Now I’m going to skin this thief alive for him.” I slowly lowered my phone. Beside me, my mother was admiring her new gown in the mirror, humming happily. Sensing my gaze, she smiled, patting my hand. “Darling, the Vitiello family may be bleeding money, but their new Don is certainly easy on the eyes. Once you’re married, your father will help him get the family business back on track.” I frowned and replayed the video. The unique cigar burn on her wrist. The faint thorn tattoo on the back of her neck. And the black onyx ring on her finger—the one that belonged to the last Don’s wife. Jesus Christ. That was my future mother-in-law! I called Camilla back immediately. “Camilla, are you a fucking idiot? That’s Cassian’s mother you’re stepping on!” She let out a smug laugh. “Oh, please. The Boss told me all about you. You’re just some nobody his father forced him to marry. He doesn’t give a shit about you. Why would he care if your low-life mother lives or dies?”

My husband's childhood sweetheart took the Cullinan I gave him for a midnight joyride. One person ended up critically injured. He wired half a million euros from the family account to hire a fall guy, then flew her to Switzerland for a ski trip. I called him from outside the operating room, desperate. "Your father is dying. Authorize the surgery, now!" He laughed, her head on his shoulder in the video call. "Using my father's health to lie? Sofia, you've crossed a line." The line went dead. The heart monitor flatlined. Later, at his father's funeral, he raged, swearing to find the killer and make them pay. I looked at the gathered family elders, then pointed at the trembling woman behind him. "The killer is right there. The one you paid to protect."

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.

Inside the Mate Bond Registry hall, our number was about to be called. But just as the clerk was reaching for our file, my best friend Maya held up her phone with a grin. On the screen, clear as day, was the cancellation confirmation. "Oh my God, Elara, you didn't actually think you were getting registered with Lucian today, did you?" "We started a bet yesterday, just to see how long it'd take you to figure it out." "Didn't expect you to stay clueless the whole time. You even wore a dress for the occasion." The people around us burst out laughing. Lucian was leaning back on a bench, completely unbothered, like none of this had anything to do with him. "You've been obsessing over this Mate Bond thing nonstop. You need to relax." "If I don't teach you a lesson now, are you gonna start tracking what time I patrol and what time I get back to the territory?" "Becoming my mate isn't that easy." The laughter got louder. That's when the registration clerk reminded me: "Miss Elara, today's registration window closes in less than twenty minutes. If you need a new number, you should get one now." Maya was laughing so hard she had to cover her mouth. "Hear that? Even the clerk feels bad for you." "Better go line up again. If Lucian changes his mind, you'll really be out of luck." I didn't respond to her. I just stepped away from Lucian's reaching hand, found the registration desk, and got a new number. Then I opened my phone and sent a voice message to someone else. "I lost a bet with my father. Per the terms, I have to marry you." "Bring the family seal and your identity scroll to the Mate Bond Registry. Ten minutes."

On the night of our anniversary, I had prepared a new set of lingerie for my Mafia husband Joey, but he had prepared divorce papers for me instead. A Cuban cigar was clamped between his teeth, a look of pure entitlement on his face. "Adriana, we need to divorce. Vivian's father is a capo. If I marry her, my future's set." "Look, sweetheart, you're just a broken family's leftover daughter. You should be grateful I kept you around this long." "Once I have the family ring, maybe I'll throw you a few scraps, let you be my little side piece." Everyone expected the daughter of a fallen family to step aside for his ambition, to be the loyal dog I'd been for the past seven years. But that night, I made a deal with the devil. I accepted a match arranged by my family and married the true king of New York's underworld. I vanished from Joey's world completely. Three years later, I returned to New York on my husband's arm. We were there on family business. Dante was called away for something urgent, leaving me to wait for him at his private club. I never expected to run into Joey, the man I hadn't seen in three years. "That's enough, Adriana. Stop with the childish tantrums." "Our son Angelo's almost six. He needs care. I'm being generous, offering you a position as his nanny." I laughed. What was this idiot talking about? He was calling the most feared and revered Donna in all of New York a nanny?

When Lorenzo Fontana, the top Don of Bajadoro, posts a massive bounty on the dark web seeking someone to bear him a child, the entire Terella underworld is shaken. "Whoever gives birth to my first heir will become the Donna of the Fontana family." On the night I take the job, soldati press a gun to the back of my head and force me onto a helicopter bound for a snow-covered mountain estate. Just like that, I become one of the 15 candidates. Money is the greatest temptation that the human heart can hardly resist. Within a few months, several women proudly announce that they are pregnant. But they, along with their unborn children, are all thrown off a cliff. The reason is always the same—the child isn't Lorenzo's. Ever since the first scream echoes from behind the estate, I am never able to sleep peacefully again. It is because after a reckless night with Lorenzo, I have become pregnant too. On the day I go into labor and see what I have given birth to, cold sweat breaks out across my body due to my immense shock. At least those women who fell to their deaths gave birth to human babies. I, on the other hand, give birth to three eggs that are as big as footballs!

Our company was having a team building event in the Huka Islands, where every employee would get their own room. As I prepared to check in, my colleague from the same department, Yvonne Caruso, suddenly snatched my ID from my hand. "The rooms are full. The rest of you should find another hotel." I did not say anything much but took my ID back to hand it to the employee working behind the front desk. "One room, please. Thank you." However, Yvonne pushed me away viciously and berated me, "I told you to get lost. Are you deaf?!" I was not prepared for it, and I hit the corner of the front desk hard. I felt a sharp pain in my waist and immediately lost my temper. Yvonne was infuriated when I pushed her back, and she roared at me, "How dare you push me! My dad is the real boss behind this company. He's the Don of the Carusos. Cross me and you won't even see it coming when you die!" I was taken aback and broke out with laughter a second later. The Don of the Carusos, Ian Caruso, was my father. Why did I have no idea that he had another daughter apart from me?

The year my daughter was born, I retired from the underworld and raised her myself. My daughter was innocent by nature, so I carefully chose four adopted sons and used the finest connections and resources at my disposal to train each of them into ruthless men who could stand on their own. I made them her most loyal protectors. For years, her four brothers kept her safe from every danger, and my daughter truly lived a peaceful and sheltered life. Until one day, I received a desperate call from my daughter, her voice trembling with tears. “Mom, please help me… They’ve cornered me in the company reseroom and they’re beating me…” When I arrived at the family corporation, my daughter was curled up in a corner, her business suit torn and disheveled, her arms covered in bloody scratches left from struggling. And the four adopted sons I had personally raised were standing outside, surrounding a woman and watching the scene unfold as if it were entertainment. That was when I learned that this woman was the one they all secretly admired. And the entire mess had started simply because my daughter had contradicted her a few times during a meeting. When they saw me arrive, not only did they show no remorse, they looked completely justified. The eldest, Matteo, stepped in front of the woman. “Mom, she forgot the boundaries a daughter of the family should have. Since she refuses to learn respect, I’ll teach her the family rules in your place.” The third, Enzo, spoke coldly. “Mom, what are you doing here? We were only teaching our sister a lesson. Did she really need to run to you and complain?” Looking at their self-righteous faces, rage burned through me. They had eaten their fill of bread and forgotten whose hand had fed them. So from today onward, I would take away the entire table along with the bread.

After taking a poisoned drink at a party for my Alpha mate, Magnus Ironwood, I am poisoned with a rare wolfsbane. Since then, my wolf has grown so weak that I can barely maintain a mind-link with the rest of the pack. Magnus travels from pack to pack and to healing centers, searching for healers and praying they can create an antidote for me. On the eve of Spring Hunt Caravan, I force myself out of bed to simmer a pot of meat stew for Magnus and our pup, Ronan Ironwood, only to collapse onto the couch and never wake up again. Moments later, Magnus walks through the door, followed by his assistant, Tala Brightfield, with Ronan in her arms. When he sees me lying on the couch, he sets down the moonstone necklace he buys for me and sighs helplessly. "Don't stay up waiting for us if you're not feeling well, and don't push yourself to make meat stew either." But Tala bursts into tears, "Your Luna doesn't like me, Alpha Magnus! Just half an hour ago, she texted me and told me to stay away from you. I think it's best if I leave." Magnus calls my name. When I don't respond, his expression turns cold, and the tenderness in his eyes is replaced by anger. "Maeve Nightshade! When will you learn the grace of a Luna? Tala has helped me rule this pack, so could you stop throwing these pointless tantrums? "Your antidote is nearly ready. Stop using your poisoning as an excuse to play the victim!" He stands there criticizing my body in front of Ronan, all for another she-wolf. It isn't until he sees my rotting body that he finally loses his mind.

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.

Before my grandfather, the Don of the Rinaldi family, dies, he leaves behind a will. The five Principessas of the Rinaldi family are forbidden from using our family name. We must live like ordinary people until one of us gives birth to the first heir. Whoever does so will inherit everything. For three years, I keep my identity hidden. My husband, Oliver Wright, and I live in a cramped apartment to the south of Windmere. Every morning, we squeeze onto the subway to get to work. When we're short on money, we stay up late making plans and racking our brains trying to keep his small company afloat. I never think life is hard because I love him. One day, the doctor hands me my medical test results—I am the first one to become pregnant. Upon learning this, my whole body trembles with excitement. The life that Oliver and I have struggled toward for years suddenly feels within reach. I drive home with a happy smile on my face as I imagine how he will react. But when I push the door open, I see a woman wearing my favorite nightgown. She is sitting with Oliver, sharing the apple I left in the refrigerator with him. He takes a bite from her hand and glances at me casually. "My first love, Maeve Young, is back. Let's get a divorce." My fingers tighten around the pregnancy test report. Then, I smile and say, "Sure." What he doesn't know is that his penniless, patient, obedient, and endlessly forgiving wife has a last name powerful enough to open every door in Windmere. I will keep this child, and the family fortune will still pass to me. As for my husband, Oliver? I'm ready to let him go.

My father, Don Rocco, threw me to the wolves—a sick Wall Street game called the “Zero-Sum Gauntlet.” But when his precious adopted daughter, Scarlett, got rejected by Parsons? He whisked her off to Milan for Fashion Week to cheer her up. She thought she’d won. Rubbed his favoritism in my face. What she doesn’t know? In our family, the ones having fun are the ones we plan to throw away. Everyone says Scarlett is the Bellini family’s little princess. The darling of New York’s underworld. Every year, the family spares no expense on a massive birthday bash for her. And me? The actual daughter? I have to step aside. My father, Rocco, never threw me a party. My birthday gift every year? A new number on the family ledger. Another account to launder. He keeps me in the shadows. Scarlett is the one on his arm. So everyone thinks I’m the outcast. The rumor? That I'm just a decoy. That Scarlett is the true heir, hidden in plain sight. That she’s only a pretty face because I’m in the way. I just traced my finger over the “Zero-Sum Gauntlet” entry form. Said nothing. Why waste time on idiots? I’ve got a game to win. And an empire to claim.

In my last life, my brother Leo—the heir to the Moretti crime family—stripped our estate bare of every last soldier, all for a Vegas jaunt. All because his new flame, Scarlett, had a jones for the high-roller tables. The Volkovs—our rivals, the very ones Leo had just pissed off—saw their opening and stormed our gates. My mother, Sofia, took a bullet meant for me. Died protecting me. I blew up Leo’s phone, my pleas turning to screams. He didn't answer. He waltzed back in after the shooting stopped, bringing our men home, but far too late for it to matter. Then, the news from Vegas. Scarlett was gone. A suicide note left behind. In it, she painted me as the monster. The one who’d leaked our weaknesses to the Volkovs. The one who'd orchestrated a fake kidnapping and torture plot, all to drive her to despair and lure Leo home. A perfect, tragic lie. Leo read the letter calmly. Then he burned the letter and told me, "Forget it. It's handled." Father tore into Leo for abandoning his post, for leaving his family to die. And me? I was named the new Consigliere. But after the celebration, Leo cornered me in the wine cellar. His face was a mask of cold fury as he pressed the barrel of his gun to my forehead. "This is for family traitors," he hissed, his voice pure venom. "The throne is my birthright, not some backstabbing bitch's prize!" When I opened my eyes again, I was back. Right in the middle of the fire and the blood. This time, I shoved my mother behind me, dragging her toward the panic room. And the bastards who were too blind to believe me? They’ll regret it.

Whispers in the underworld mentioned that Jason Marino, heir to the Family with its hands in the cross-continental arms trade, supposedly loved women with slim waists. Since his recent return to the country, his eyes had landed on Sonia Stewart—sworn sister to my fiancé, Andy Black. When Andy found out, he disappeared for three whole days. I finally tracked him down in the Family's club, only to overhear a conversation that shattered my world. "I'm not just going to stand by and watch Sonia marry that playboy Jason," Andy was telling his lieutenant. "On the wedding day, you need to swap Sonia's wedding car with Leona's. No one must find out!" His lieutenant thumped his chest, swearing, "No problem, boss! I'll get it done. But... What about your fiancee, Leona?" Andy let out a confident laugh, as if he were in control of everything. "I'm the Don's hand-picked Consigliere. Jason knows Leona belongs to me, so he won't lay a finger on her. Once I've slept with Sonia, he'll have to give up on her. After that, we'll just send someone to pick Leona up. She won't suspect a thing. Instead, she'll be scared and trembling… Pathetic but adorable nonetheless. She'll come running right back to my arms!" Every word was like a bullet leaving holes in my heart, every tone tearing it apart. I stumbled away as fast as I could, praying they wouldn't hear the sound of my heart breaking. When Andy tried to pick me up according to his plan later on, he broke down.

We have a family group chat meant for the core members only. It's named "the Coppola family". The ones in the group are my father, my mother, my oldest brother, Fabio Coppola; my second brother, Luca Coppola, and my little sister, Francesca Coppola. Oh, that's not all. Fabio's bloodhound, Fido; Luca's ragdoll, Neve; and Francesca's fancy rat, Pico, are members of the group chat too. I'm the only one who's not included in that group. There's once when I ask Francesca, "Can you add me into the group?" She's in the middle of feeding Pico at that time. Without bothering to glance at me, she replies, "That group is meant for insiders only. Wouldn't you feel awkward if you were to join the group, Valentina?" I just look at Pico, who keeps screeching in Francesca's arms. It has a special nickname and the right to speak up in the family group. To think that I, the Coppolas' biological daughter, am nothing compared to a fancy rat.

Once I became pregnant, I was hailed as the most precious woman in the underworld. My husband, the new Don of the Jenkins family, shut down an entire private hospital wing for my check-ups, while my father, the Collins Don, summoned every Michelin-starred chef in New York to the estate, just so I could pick whatever I craved. The baby I carried was destined to be the sole heir of the two most powerful mafia families. But on the day we were to sign the papers securing my child's inheritance, they both vanished. "An urgent family matter came up," my husband, Vincent, said, kissing my forehead. "We can finalize the child's inheritance when we get back. There's no rush." Shortly after they left, I received a link to an anonymous live stream. My father's voice came from the video, colder than I had ever heard it. "You're saying your marriage contract with Evangeline was never valid. Doesn't that make the child a bastard?" Vincent, lounging in a club, blew a smoke ring. Cradled in his arms was my half sister, Sarah. "Evangeline has always had all the love and affection. Her child will want for nothing." "Sarah has been mocked for her status for years. I have to make things right for her, give our child a legitimate name." In that moment, my heart seized, and I could barely breathe. Then my phone vibrated again. It was a text message: "Welcome home to the Gallo family, my queen." "Just give the word, and the child you carry will bear the Gallo name and become the most powerful heir in the American underworld."

I sold my brand-new 300,000-dollar Bentley for cheap at a price of 30,000. Everyone thought I had gone crazy, but no one knew I had been reborn. In my last life, my mafia boyfriend, Clay Colton's childhood friend, Wendy Jeffords, was heavily pregnant when she experienced pain during the family's gathering. She grabbed my hand as tears streamed down her face. "Ciara, I'm begging you. I'm going into labor. Please take me to the hospital." I was in a panic, and I quickly drove her to the hospital in my new car. However, the baby suffocated from its umbilical cord wrapped around its neck, and the doctor was unable to save it despite doing his best. After Wendy was discharged, she came crying at my company's door while holding up a sign that read, 'Ciara Snow is a murderer! She killed my baby when she drove dangerously!' She told everyone she met that the ride in my car had been too bumpy, and it caused the umbilical cord to strangle her baby. Someone posted a clip of her online, and it trended right away. My pictures, house address, and phone number were revealed on the internet, and many strangers started cursing at me on my social media. I was fired by my company, and people started throwing rubbish at my door. My parents were too afraid of leaving the house due to harassment. My boyfriend, Clay, did not speak up for me when he was interviewed by the media and instead said, "Ciara loved showing off her new luxury car, and she only has herself to blame for everything that has happened." In the end, I jumped off a building. However, when I opened my eyes, I had returned to the day of the family gathering. Wendy was hugging her belly and looking pale as she approached me. "Ciara, I think I'm in labor. Please drive me to the hospital!"

My husband, Cesare Ferrante, the most feared Don of the Ferrante family, had always hated children. Yet everything changed the moment my stepsister, Bianca Moretti, moved in next door with her six-month-old baby. Suddenly, my husband became obsessed with that child. He personally fed the baby formula, sang lullabies, and carried the baby everywhere he went. Every day, he came home exhausted at dawn, yet his face glowed with joy, as if that baby occupied his entire soul. I became invisible to him. Three days ago, someone forced my car off the road, and I crashed into the median. Blood streamed down my forehead, and my vision swam. I called Cesare 55 times. He did not answer a single call. Instead, he posted a photo of the baby on his social media. [My little angel smiled today!] I had had enough. Tonight at the family banquet, every member of the famiglia was seated around the table. I raised my final toast, then set down my glass. "I want a divorce." They all froze. "Are you insane?" My parents' voices rose in unison. Cesare grabbed my wrist, disbelief written across his face. "Giulia, you want to divorce me just because I was busy taking care of the baby and didn't answer your calls? You're actually jealous of a six-month-old child?" I did not meet his eyes. Instead, I stared at the glaring kiss mark behind his ear. "Since you love that child so much," I said calmly, "I'll make it easy for you. Go be that child's father."