Nouvelles Plot Twists & Romans Mafia Marriage

During our eight years together, Lorenzo, the Falcone family Don’s heir, cheated on me with eight women. A dancer, a college student, a sex worker... Every one of them was nothing like me. Eight times, I fought, I raged, and I even cut my wrists. And every time, Lorenzo knelt before me and swore it would never happen again. "I swear to God, Beatrice, I was just tempted by someone new. You're the only woman I love." I believed him. Today was our ninth anniversary. Then I found the ninth: my best friend, Giuliana. They were holding each other like real lovers. Hands shaking, I called home, expecting the comfort my family had given me the other eight times. Instead, my parents said I had it coming. A daughter from a minor noble house had never been good enough for the Falcone heir. My brother said I was too stupid to make myself lovable, and that was why I'd finally driven Lorenzo to cheat. Eventually, even I began to wonder if it was all my fault. I saw a therapist. She advised me to divorce as soon as possible and stop clinging to someone I wasn't good enough for. I came back to the estate in a daze, only to hear Lorenzo's voice in the study, warm with laughter. "Giuliana, you're the clever one. You suggested I fake those affairs so she'd get used to me cheating and wouldn't lose her mind and hurt you. "I've taken care of the therapist. Her parents and brother will keep pressuring her. Soon enough, she'll ask for the divorce herself. "As soon as she's gone, I'll marry you." I stood there listening as tears slipped down my cheeks. I'd been living inside a lie they had all helped build. I was done playing the fool in their elaborate charade.

I used to be that girl in the mafia—envied, untouchable. Orlando Leone, the big bad Don everyone feared, had eyes only for me. I took a bullet for him. After that? People whispered I couldn't have kids. He tried to shut them up by knocking me up—ninety-nine tries. Try number ten? His shiny new secretary texted, all confused over a decimal. He bailed on me. By thirty, she crashed his sports car while shopping. Claimed she couldn't park. I was left freezing in a bathtub. He said he loved me, but when it counted, he always picked the girl who played dumb and helpless. That's when it hit me—his love was never really mine. And by the time I disappeared for real, he lost his mind looking. Too bad. Me and that promise? Already buried at sea.

I married Kael Throne—the infamous king of New York’s mafia—not for his power, not for his fortune, but because I loved him. He was unlike any man I’d ever known. A man who could have a thousand women at his feet, yet dismissed them all with a single glance. I believed his faithful love until the day I learned the existence of a college girl. He’d “respected” me enough to keep her hidden… until I forced the truth into the light. Kael didn’t rage. He didn’t deny it. He only looked at me with that calm, dangerous gaze and said, “Then we divorce.” I refused. He offered me his money, his casino, his everything. Still I said no. Because I loved him. That’s when his love turned black. He had me kidnapped. My mother, too. All to force my signature on those papers. “You found out,” he said, almost bored. “And there’s no more fun in hiding. Leave now, Vivienne. Give me—and Nyssa—our happy ending.” I watched as the man he’d sent slit my mother’s throat. My answer came too late. Kael Throne was a monster. I collapsed, my head cracking against the floor. And when I opened my eyes… I was back on the day I first learned Nyssa existed. This time, I didn’t confront him. I played the perfect wife, smiling sweetly while I waited for the perfect moment to vanish from his life forever. I just never imagined that when I finally disappeared… Kael would lose his mind.

After ten years’ being in love with Don Bianco, I finally got the chance to take wedding photos with him. My best friend Amy, who facilitated our engagement, also came to help us. When Amy was dressed in her tailored bridesmaid dress, I saw a clear astonishment in Bianco’s eyes. Amy advised to take a photo together as a commemoration, As I stood in my wedding dress as the central one, Amy laughed at herself: “I look like a maid.” Immediately, Bianco dragged me to the edge, leaving the highlight to Amy. The flash lit up, they were the perfect match. When choosing the photos, Bianco required the photographer pick the one with me on the edge as the welcome poster for our wedding. I questioned Bianco: “Why should the middle of our wedding poster be left to another woman?” Bianco glanced at me with a dismissive smile: “You’ll be Donna anyway, sweetheart. Stop being jealous.” “Without Amy, we couldn’t have taken the photo. Picking this one shows our gratitude.” Staring at the photo, I found myself dressed up to the nines, but looked like a stranger. Even standing in the position, I couldn’t own it. I didn’t want to be in the middle anymore.

During my second year of marriage to Vincent DeLuca, Don of the DeLuca family, I was kidnapped. By the time I escaped, I was four months pregnant. The first person to find me was Luca Moretti, the childhood friend I'd loved for ten years, the one who had refused to marry me. When Vincent saw my pregnant belly beneath Luca's coat, he had his men drag me to a hospital and forced the doctors to end my pregnancy. That night, I heard Luca confront him. "You know Victoria never betrayed you! How could you kill your own child?!" Vincent laughed, and there was nothing warm in it. "I only married her so Sophia could marry you without a hitch. You two are about to get engaged, and I'm not letting this baby become the talk of New York. The man Sophia marries can't have a scandal hanging over him!" The blood in my veins went cold. Back when Luca turned me down, Vincent stepped in and claimed he'd fallen for me at first sight. It had all been for Sophia! And now he'd killed his own child for her, too! I wiped away my tears. That same night, I answered an email from Professor Diane Walker that had been sitting in my inbox for two years. "Professor Walker, I'd like to join your sculpture studio." I was going to leave New York and leave Vincent, and I was never coming back.

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.

On our seventh wedding anniversary, I found another woman’s lace thong in my bedroom. My husband, Mark Donovan, stood in front of the closet and said coldly, “She’s just a kid, Leslie. Don’t make this ugly.” That “kid” was pregnant with his child. That “kid” had already moved into my home, worn his shirts, slept in my bed, and made him cut down the magnolia tree my dead parents planted for me. Everyone in the Donovan family thought I would scream, cry, and beg. After all, I had loved Mark for nine years. But this time, I only picked up my suitcase. Because they didn’t know one thing. The divorce had already been filed. The Donovan wife’s emerald brooch had already been returned. And the evidence against his precious little mistress had already been delivered to the old Don. Mark thought I was walking out of his mansion. He didn’t know I was walking out of his life. Forever.

For the past ten years, all of Boston society had been guessing whether I would end up marrying Alexander Grant, Nathan Cole, or Julian Vale. One of them took care of every problem that came my way. One remembered every allergy I had. One built me an observatory with a view of the whole city. I never once doubted that I was loved. I had always been the spoiled little princess everyone doted on. Then my mother found her older daughter, Vivian Ashford, who had been missing for twenty-two years. Vivian was the one expected to marry into Black Harbor for the Ashford family. To make up for the life she had lost, the three men started asking me to give up a little at a time. Alexander missed the fitting he had promised to come to, because Vivian needed the practice in front of the cameras more than I did. Nathan canceled the follow-up on my old injury because Vivian had a panic attack when she heard about the medical exam before the wedding. Julian booked the entire observatory to make up for my birthday, then, while I sat there alone until closing, sent me a text that read, "You're the sensible one. Go home by yourself tonight." When I got back to the estate, I asked them why none of them had told me beforehand. But Vivian cried and said she didn't want to be the reason they lost me. So Alexander stepped in front of her, Nathan told me to stop upsetting her, and Julian said I shouldn't be using one broken promise to test whether they loved me. As I turned to leave, I heard them making a pact in that room. "Until the engagement is settled, no more coddling Evelyn." "She'll be angry." "She'll sulk for a few days and get over it. She could never bring herself to leave us for real." They weren't wrong. Back then, I really couldn't bring myself to leave. What they didn't know was that I had already let go, and I was never coming back.

On the day we were supposed to get our marriage license, the groom's name was swapped out. The woman my boyfriend was now promised to—the pampered mafia princess nestled in his arms—looked at me with a triumphant smile. "Isn't it perfect?" she sneered. "A fraud of a bride for a fake heir. What a match." I ignored her and turned to the man I loved. This was the man who endured three days of brutal punishment just for the right to marry me, when the Rossi family first acknowledged him as their true heir. Now, he just nodded along with her. "Don't be so dramatic. It's a joke. You're not actually mad, are you? It's just a piece of paper. Once Sienna's had her fun, you two get a divorce, and then it'll be our turn. I promise." I smiled. Then I turned and walked straight to the so-called "fake" heir. "The marriage license is filed, honey," I said. "Let's go plan our real wedding."

I took the fall for my husband over an illegal arms deal and spent three years in federal prison. By the time I got out, he already had a child with another woman. On the day of the christening, I calmly handed him divorce papers. Everyone said I had lost my mind—that I was declaring war on the Nelli family. I was perfectly clear-headed. Before I went in, my husband, Silvio Nelli, held my hand and swore he would never betray me as long as he lived. But the night before my release, I dreamed that he wiped out the Thorne family for that woman and took everything I had. I died beside my parents' bodies while he held that woman's child. In the end, he was the only one who came out ahead. Now the child from my dream was real. I wasn't going to wait for the nightmare to come true. I would take back everything my three years in prison had bought him. Then I'd make him pay in blood.

My boyfriend had a border collie named Milo that he treated like his own child. No matter how broke we were, Milo never went without. We waited outside the warehouse club for its 10 p.m. bread markdowns, then bought Milo fresh seafood flown in that morning. We worked until conjunctivitis left our eyes bloodshot and still didn't dare take a day off, all so we could send Milo to a summer camp that cost more than three thousand dollars. I always thought Lucian simply loved animals too much, that people could tough it out but Milo shouldn't have to suffer. Until the Calloway heir threw a lavish banquet in the north end of town for his beloved pet's birthday. I snuck in hoping to take home some food for Milo, only to discover that the host was my boyfriend, Lucian Calloway, and the birthday pet was Milo. A single napkin at their table was worth more than my entire year's salary. A guest tossing off a casual compliment about how silky the coat looked walked away with a generous reward. That was when it hit me: with a snap of his fingers, Lucian could have paid to treat the stomach and eye problems I'd developed from overwork. And there I was, the fool who'd hidden my medical reports to save money, gutting it out year after year. Maybe in his mind, spending money on strangers and the dog was a better investment than spending it on me. So it was time for me to leave. I pulled out my phone and dialed a number I hadn't called in a long time. "The marriage alliance with the Bennetts. I accept."

Five years into our secret marriage, Alex finally agreed to give me a wedding. But the day before the ceremony, I was the one who called it off. The Castellano Family butler asked me, stunned, "Ma'am, the ceremony is tomorrow. Are you sure you don't want to wait for Mr. Castellano to come home?" I picked up my packed suitcase. My voice came out light, almost relieved. "He isn't coming. Right now he's in a church in New York, saying his vows with his adopted sister."

When I was three months pregnant, I walked straight into an ambush. A bullet tore through my arm, and they rushed me to the hospital. By the time it was over, the baby had been torn out of me alive. The surgeon, Mia, passed it off as a tragic mistake. I tore the hospital apart, and my husband, Leon, only looked annoyed. "It's one kid. We'll have another. Why put the doctor through hell over it?" Then I saw the smug woman standing behind him, and it all came together. I smiled at Leon. What he didn't know was that in the gang shootout three months ago, the bullet to his stomach had left him sterile for good. And that baby was the only blood he would ever have.

I am the most secret Principessa of the Sicilian "Shepherd" Mafia. For my safety, my identity was a closely guarded secret since birth. I lived in the shadows, leaving the outside world entirely ignorant of my true standing. On my wedding day, my mafia fiancé allowed his female bodyguard to feed my family's heirloom token to his dog. He mocked me for coming from some "backwater" family, claiming I wasn't worthy to be his bride. He even threatened to wipe my family off the map.. Looking this, I simply made a single phone call. Moments later, armored vehicles crashed through the estate gates, and our family’s chief Consigliere knelt me in front of the terrified crowd:"Principessa, your father sent us to bring you home." It was only at that moment that my arrogant fiancé finally understood. The woman he had humiliated was the sole heir to the "Shepherd" family that controlled the European arms trade. But it was too late for regrets.

After I got pregnant, Severin Voss went from a ruthless Don to a devoted husband who cooked for me. He cut off all contact with Vivian Lane and banished her from Voss territory. He had never liked children, yet now he shadowed the estate's most experienced housekeeper every day, learning how to care for a baby. He even learned how to cook for an expectant mother. He had a prenatal meal plan tailored to my needs and prepared every dish himself. It was as if he'd never had anything to do with Vivian, as if we were still as close as ever. When my mother came to visit, she marveled, "There's never been a Don in all of Sicily who's such a family man. "You should consider yourself lucky to have married him. Stop dwelling on his past mistakes." I smiled and agreed, then ate the lunch Severin had made just for me. An hour later, I was rushed to a private hospital, doubled over in pain. By the time I came out of surgery, my baby was gone. Three days later, Severin returned from a business trip, looking exhausted and travel-worn. A blissful smile still lingered on his face. "Honey, I learned some new pregnancy-friendly recipes. They're even more nutritious than the old ones. If you stick to them, I know your delivery will go smoothly. "I'll start making them for you tomorrow, okay?" When I didn't respond, Severin's gaze finally dropped from my pale face to my flat stomach. In that instant, his smile vanished.

After seven years with Luca Lorenzetti, I was finally in a wedding dress. We were at a private photography studio in Sicily that served only members of the Lorenzetti family. My best friend, Avery Conti, who'd introduced me to Luca years earlier, was trying on her bridesmaid dress nearby. The moment Avery stepped out in her custom silver gown, Luca's eyes lit up in a way I'd never seen before. Luca asked Avery to join us for a few shots. "Think of it as a keepsake from before the wedding." I stood in the middle in my wedding gown. Avery fussed with her skirt off to the side and laughed softly. "Maybe not. Standing next to Chloe in this, I'd look like an ugly duckling." Without a word, Luca walked over, pushed me aside, and gave Avery the spot right in the center. When the shutter clicked, the two of them stood shoulder to shoulder like a couple made for each other. As we looked through the photos, Luca pointed to one of the three of us. He wanted it enlarged, framed, and used as the welcome poster for our wedding. I frowned. "Avery's in the middle of our wedding poster? That doesn't seem right." Luca gave me a disapproving look. "Chloe, why are you being so difficult? If Avery hadn't introduced us, you'd never even have met me. "So what if we use one group photo? You're still the one standing at the altar with me in the end, aren't you?" I looked at myself in the photo. Even in the most expensive dress there, I looked like an outsider who'd wandered into the frame by mistake. Some places aren't yours, even when you're standing in them. If that's how it is, I don't want to be his bride anymore.

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.

To end the war between the Marinos and the Valentes, I married Theodore Valente, the first love I'd once walked out on. On our wedding night, that proud, untouchable man held me and wept. Night after night, his broad frame covered mine as he made love to me. Theodore's sweet whispers made me blush, and a secret thrill went through me. Maybe he still loved me after all. But then the man I thought loved me did the unthinkable. He shot my father in the head, right in front of me. He put cement shoes on my brother and sent him to the bottom of the sea. He had my mother and sister shaved bald, then handed them over to his bodyguards to abuse however they pleased. By the time I escaped to save them, the torture had already driven them insane... My beloved husband looked at me coldly, his voice dripping with scorn. "Did you really think I still loved you? "Stop dreaming. You really thought marrying me would erase the humiliation you caused when you walked out on me? Or my hatred for your father after he killed so many members of my family?" Theodore wouldn't let me die. If I did, he'd kill my mother and my sister. He kept me as his wife in name only, yet night after night, he forced me to watch him sleep with a stand-in who looked just like me. Then the day came when his lover got pregnant. He grabbed me by the throat. "Once the baby's born, you and I are getting a divorce. My child won't be a bastard." I smiled, nodded, and promised I'd cooperate fully. After all, a doctor had diagnosed me with late-stage stomach cancer just yesterday. I didn't have another week to live.

13 years ago, I pulled Alexander Roswell out of a small town and gave him everything my family had. I helped the Roswell family's unwanted second son become the Don he is today. The day he accepted the scepter that symbolized his authority as Don, he proposed to me. He held out a diamond ring, his eyes soft. "Evelyn, I love you. Once I've dealt with the traitors, we'll get married." I thought I wouldn't have to wait long. I was wrong. He betrayed me before he could keep that promise. He took Sienna Brooks, his young new assistant, to one of my family's hospitals for a prenatal checkup. He didn't even seem to care that he was on my territory. When I arrived, he was stroking her belly and discussing baby names with her. She leaned against him, looking perfectly happy. "Darling, do you think our baby could be your heir?" Alexander said nothing, but his silence was answer enough. He was actually considering it. Pain stabbed through my chest. The report slipped from my hand and fell to the floor. It confirmed that my fifth round of IVF had failed.

My fiancé, Luciano Marino, was the Don of the Marino family, and he was an extremely careful man. For the five years we'd known each other, he'd kept me on his estate outside the city. "Eleanor, you're my weak spot. I'll never let any of my enemies lay a finger on you." "The fewer people who know about you, the safer you are." So I'd never once appeared in public with him, let alone met his family. Three days before our wedding, I was outside the study when I overheard him talking to the butler. "Don, are you sure you want to schedule your wedding to Ms. Vanderhall for the same day, three days from now?" "That's right." "Then... what about Ms. Ashford?" He took a deep drag on his cigar. "Eleanor has always been understanding. She won't mind if I'm a little late." My hand froze before I could push the door open, and my mind went blank. Hands shaking, I opened Instagram on my phone and searched for Eileen Vanderhall's account. Her feed was filled with photos of the two of them. She came and went from Luciano's armory as she pleased, attended his family dinners, and even sat in on meetings with his crew. "He says that when you love someone, you share every part of your life with them." So it wasn't that he refused to let the woman he loved into his life. It was just that the woman wasn't me. Back in my room, I dialed a number. "Dad, I lost the bet. I'm ready to come home and marry the man you picked." ...