Mafia Marriage の短編小説 & 小説

My husband of five years, Eric Vale, came home drunk again. As I laid him in our bed, he murmured, “Don’t worry, my love… I’ll take care of you and our baby.” My heart stopped. Baby? We’d been on birth control since the day we married. There was no baby. I shook him lightly. “What are you talking about, Eric?” He blinked at me, confused, then smiled like nothing had happened. “Hey, babe… did I say something?” The next morning, I checked our joint account. Every month, ten thousand dollars had been wired to a woman named Bella Evers. Yesterday, he sent two hundred thousand more—with a note: I can’t wait for our baby to be born. Bella was Eric’s mistress and was now six months pregnant. So I made one call. “Papa,” I told the most feared Don in the South, “I’m getting a divorce.” I glanced at my sleeping husband. “I want him gone. And I want him broke.”

My father found me too rebellious, so he gave me to Marco, tasking him with making a lady out of me. To the outside world, Macro was the ruthless boss to a Mafia empire, but to me, he was just a man with a perpetually stern face. I tried everything to defy him. I smashed his car. Then I swapped his PPT for the lowbrow stand-up he hated most. And he opened it during a company meeting. Yet, every rebellion ended the same. He cornered me, his massive frame dominating mine on the silk sheets of his king-sized bed, the polished oak of his desk, or the leather confines of the car's backseat. His hot skin against mine, his fingers tracing fire along my curves. He moved with a primal hunger that left me breathless. My body arched in unwilling ecstasy, in a dance of punishing pleasure, until my fight dissolved into moans, my will shattered under his relentless claim. I fell for him hard, convinced this was love, and he was the beacon of my dark world. But the truth shattered me: it was all a calculated game to tame me, to stop my war with my sister Karen. My guiding light went out, or maybe it never existed at all. So I became a good girl. I stopped fighting back. He thought he had me tamed, chained to his will. But in the end, I slipped free, leaving him alone with his shattered heart.

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.

Five years of marriage. One carefully planned con. When Federico pushed Evelyn Gambrelli away with cold words and divorce papers, she thought her whole world had collapsed. Her father went to prison. Her mother died. Her husband became the new Don of her family. And she had been nothing more than a pawn in his game of revenge. "You never loved me?" she asked. Federico looked at her, his eyes perfectly calm. "Never. It was all a lie." Five years ago, he'd sworn at the altar to love her forever. Who could have guessed that every passionate vow he made was a lie? When Evelyn "vanished" in a deliberate plane crash, taking the secret of her twins with her, that cold-blooded man lost his mind. He turned the whole city upside down and spent sleepless nights in their empty house, holding her pillow. But she was out there somewhere, and she was never coming back. Four years later, she returned with two children and a brand-new last name. Federico, the Don the whole city feared, bowed his head like a gambler who'd lost everything. "If I told you that 'I never loved you' was the real lie, would it still be too late?" He was ready for her to scream at him, or take revenge, or even hate him. But Evelyn just looked at him calmly. "Don Lucarelli, did your revenge get you what you wanted?" Federico opened his mouth, but no sound came out. His revenge was complete. The Gambrelli family had crumbled, and he stood at the top of New York's underworld. But in the end, he'd lost the only home he'd ever wanted.

Leon Santoro's ex-wife and their daughter pushed me down the stairs. I lost the baby. Leon came to see me in the hospital. He sat beside the bed, his expression as composed as always, and said, "She's a child. She didn't know what she was doing. I'm sorry you had to go through this. I apologize for Rosalie." "That's it?" I asked. "Just an apology?" He turned to look at me. "What else do you want? Money? Stock?" "I can't exactly make Rosalie pay with her life for what happened to your child." Your child. Not our child. So he truly never cared about the baby I was carrying. He'd made a promise to his ex-wife Giselle: Rosalie would be his only child. When I told him I was pregnant, he'd barely reacted. Just a shrug and a flat "I know," like I'd told him the weather. Thinking about it now, I looked at him and asked quietly, "You're relieved, aren't you? Now that the baby's gone."

"Your love makes me sick." Those were the final words my husband, Vittorio De Luca, left me in my past life. On our wedding day, Elara Hale had crashed my ceremony, begging Vittorio to run away with her. But he chose to stay by my side. Yet, when Elara died of an illness shortly after, he harbored nothing but hatred for me. He detested that I had clung to him for over a decade, forcing him into a marriage he never wanted. More than that, he loathed himself for not running away with Elara. When I opened my eyes again, I was reborn before everything went wrong. I looked at him, "Vittorio, I'm getting married." He looked a bit troubled. "You know I’m busy with a critical territorial expansion. My mind is entirely elsewhere…" “Never mind.” I offered a faint, indifferent smile. Relieved, Vittorio leaned in and pressed a kiss to my forehead. "Don't worry. We've been together for twelve years. I'll do the right thing and take responsibility." He didn’t know what I meant, but I knew what I’d do in this lifetime. I would never choose him again, let alone marry him.

I married Don Alessandro in secret. The Five Families of Chicago had ruled for generations. And I had married into the most powerful of them. For four years, Alessandro made me promises. One hundred and twelve times. And one hundred and twelve times, he left me standing alone. The first time, his ex‑girlfriend’s father had a heart attack. Alessandro canceled the wedding and stayed with her for three full weeks. The second time, she crashed her Maserati into a fountain in Monaco. Drunk. He flew there overnight and paid off the police chief personally. Every time, right before our wedding, she manufactured another crisis. I begged. I screamed. I put a knife to my own wrist. Alessandro just laughed, pulled the blade from my hand, and fucked me against the nearest wall. “She’s my ex‑girlfriend. You’re my wife. You don't need to be jealous of her.” After the one hundred and twelfth time, I stopped feeling anything. I pushed a piece of agreement in front of him.“Our marriage. Our alliance. Consider it terminated.”

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.

By the fifth year of my marriage to James Hill, he began pretending to be his late twin brother, the late Don of the family. With that, he took over all of a Don’s duties and the role of my sister-in-law, Hilary’s husband. Every time after he slept with her, he would cut his arm open, kneel before me, and beg for forgiveness. “Pia, you’re the only woman I’ve ever loved. Once Hilary gives birth to the heir and secures her position, I’ll fake my death and come back for you.” He told me his twin brother had died saving him, so he had to fulfill his brother’s last wish. During the year he pretended to be his brother, James slept with Hilary ninety-nine times. After a full year, Hilary finally gave birth to the family’s heir. I truly believed James would fake his death as promised, then take our son and me away from this bloody life. However, I saw him with Hilary in his arms, teasing the tiny baby she carried. “Hilary, I’ll stay with you and our child until he’s ready to take over as the next Don.” Silently, I wiped my tears and went back to my room to pack my suitcase. My son saw me crying and ran into my arms, gently wiping away my tears with his little hands. “Ma, Aunt Hilary already had her baby. Why isn’t Papa coming home yet?” I placed my clothes into the suitcase as I told him softly, “Because he doesn’t want us anymore. But don’t be sad, sweetheart. I will build us a home.” If James wanted to raise an heir, then I would return to North Atlantis’s most powerful mafia family, take my rightful place as my father’s heir, and become the Godmother of the Mafia.

To the world, I’m the wife of Kael Voss. In truth, I’m the daughter of the Grim Reaper. I once defied death to save Kael Voss, the Mafia godfather. After ninety-nine proposals, his persistence melted my heart. I hid my divine heritage, abandoned the Underworld, and became his beloved Donna. After the marriage, he firmly kept his vows, turning our marriage into a fairytale. With our fifth wedding anniversary approaching, I wanted to get him a gift. Instead, I overheard a conversation between him and the maid, Luna. "Honey, your birthday is coming up soon. What gift do you want?" "I want you," Kael replied, his voice dripping with affection. "I want you by my side forever. I need to make sure Iris never finds out about us... and I want you to give me an heir." "Are you sure?" "Positive." Kael’s tone was unwavering. The grin slid off my face the moment I heard the answer and I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. The blood drained from my face. The hope I had cherished shattered into dust. The love he had sworn to me had rotted away in just five years, leaving nothing but a hollow shell. If he no longer wanted my heart, I would take it back. The full moon rose in two days. It is time for my return to the Underworld.

Of the three daughters-in-law in one of New York's oldest and wealthiest families, I was considered the most useless. Vera Hawthorne, married to the eldest Hawthorne son, was a world champion hacker. Catherine Hawthorne, married to the second son, was one of Wall Street's fiercest M&A lawyers. They talked code and securities law. Me? I cared about the latest jewelry on Fifth Avenue and afternoon tea at the Plaza. I couldn't even watch a chef prepare a lobster without getting teary-eyed. Everyone saw me as Arthur Hawthorne's pretty, useless wife. He'd spent five years spoiling me rotten. I didn't mind. All I wanted was a quiet life as Mrs. Hawthorne. What they didn't know was that I wasn't born delicate. I'd just had enough of a life where I woke up reaching for a gun and slept with one eye open, watching for assassins. Five years ago, I faked my death, disbanded my inner circle, and married Arthur, who had no idea who I really was. That worked fine until a fund began aggressively shorting Hawthorne Tech, trying to force Arthur to hand over his quantum chip patents. Vera couldn't trace the offshore accounts. Catherine filed for an emergency restraining order, but someone pulled strings to have it denied. Then gunmen from New York's four crime families stormed into the boardroom. By the time I got there, Arthur had a gun to his head. He refused to sign. They pistol-whipped him until his face was covered in blood, but he never stopped shielding me with his body. "Don't be scared. Close your eyes." I stared at the blood on his face. A laugh escaped me, cold and humorless. They'd beaten my husband like this. How was I supposed to live a quiet life as Mrs. Hawthorne now? I set down the lunch bag, snapped the gunman's wrist, and slammed him onto the conference table. The room went dead silent. I pinned him down with one foot and dialed an encrypted number I hadn't used in five years. "Tell the four families. "The Night Owl is back."

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.

“Brother, I’ve decide to get a divorce.” There was only a moment’s dead silence on the line. Then, Gilbert Cross’s voice came through, “You just married Vittorio yesterday!” I pondered it in my mind, a bitter smile touching my lips. It wasn't yesterday. It had been exactly 6,209 days. In my previous life,for the seventeen years of my marriage to Vittorio Croft, we were indeed the picture of perfect harmony. However, our fragile illusion came into pieces the day my older sister passed away from a critical illness. Grief-stricken, Vittorio suddenly fell severely ill himself. When he finally woke up from his coma, his assistant asked, “Sir, what about Silvia Cross?” Vittorio hadn't even blinked. He replied in a flat, indifferent tone, “Don't bother with her. She was originally nothing but a burden. I married her so that I could stay by her sister's side forever — if not as a lover, then as family.” Standing right outside the door, clutching a tray of warm soup, I laughed until tears streamed down my face. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself reborn on the very first morning after our wedding. We had just held the lavish ceremony, but the official paperwork hadn't been registered yet. I knew exactly what I had to do. Without a second thought, I took a pen and crossed out my name on the application form. In its place, I quickly wrote down Silvia Croft. From this moment forward, my past was buried, and I would never cross paths with Vittorio again.

On our third Valentine's Day since marrying the Don Arthur, he set the three places at the dining table. With the same hands he used to wield a gun, he carefully peeled shrimp. Shrimp was Lora's favorite, the first love he'd never gotten over. I was allergic to shellfish. He dismissed every hurt he'd caused me and sided with Lora every time. He was certain I loved him so deeply that I would swallow every insult and step aside forever. Everything changed when I discovered Lora's role in my father's murder and learned how completely Arthur's blind trust in her had buried the truth. That was when I finally saw him clearly. I was done with Arthur and the love he claimed to have for me.

I stood by Carlos Mancini for 50 years. I watched him rise from a nobody on the streets of Sicily to the cold-blooded Don of a Mafia empire. I thought we were soulmates who could never be pulled apart. I believed that until the day he lay dying. I leaned over his bed, sobbing my heart out. But his cloudy, unfocused eyes looked straight through me, fixed on something far away. He murmured, "Nina, in the next life, we can finally be together..." In that moment, I felt as if I'd been struck by lightning. Nina Russo was the widow of one of Carlos's fallen men. 40 years ago, he'd brought that timid woman back to the estate and looked at me hopefully. "Sam Russo died for me. It's my responsibility to take care of her for the rest of her life." I pulled out my revolver, pressed it to my temple, and made him choose between Nina and me. He was terrified. He snatched the gun away, pulled me into his arms, and tried to calm me down. "You're overthinking this. You're the only woman I've ever loved. I don't feel anything like that for her." He sent Nina overseas with a large sum of money, enough to make sure she'd never want for anything. But from that day on, the light went out of his eyes. When I opened my eyes again, I'd gone back 40 years. Young and handsome in his black trench coat, Carlos stood tall before me while Nina hid behind him, looking fragile. Carlos looked at me with a hint of nervousness and anticipation in his eyes. "Alice, she's Sam's wife. I promised Sam I'd take care of her..." I swirled the glass in my hand and let out a soft laugh. "Of course. Let her stay at the estate." This time, I chose to let them have each other while I walked away.

Lamond, the current Don of the Catani family, once promised that no matter which son I chose to marry in the future, that son would become his successor. But on the day I picked my husband, I did not pick Luca, to whom I had confessed my feelings ninety-nine times. Instead, I picked his quiet illegitimate son, Marco. Everyone was stunned. The entire Catani family knew that I was obsessed with Luca and believed that he was going to be their next Don. In the previous timeline, I had indeed married Luca. However, after our marriage, he started staying out all night. When he came back, he would come home smelling of Cecilia's perfume, his childhood friend's. Luca said I was overthinking things, and I believed him. I did, until the day I caught him and Cecilia in an intimate embrace on our marital bed. In order to show his support for me, Lamond punished him and sent Cecilia to a far-away country. I was not expecting that the first thing Luca would do after becoming Don was to bring Cecilia back to his side. Then, Cecilia shut me in a room for seven days. I could not even ask for help when I started delivering my baby. In the end, both my baby and I died. Once I returned to the past, I decided to right my previous mistake and cut ties with Luca. To my surprise, Luca ended up regretting it.

My brother was dying. He needed an operation. So I finally took the deal from my boyfriend's father, the Don. A million dollars to leave Rocco Valeriano, the sole heir to the Valeriano family. It drove Rocco mad. After a family war, he was covered in blood. Refused any treatment. Until his father had no choice but to bring me back. Rocco lay in that hospital bed, a gun to his own head. His eyes were dark with obsession, yet full of love. He threatened desperately, "Ava. Marry me, or I die right here." He forced my hand. He got what he wanted. But on our wedding night, he didn't say a word. He just tore my clothes off and took me with a punishing force. When it was over, he grabbed my chin. He spat, "Gold digger. You'd do anything for money, right? Well, from now on, you get nothing." Five years of marriage. He had mistresses everywhere, all of them dripping in jewels. As for me, I was the Donna in name only. My credit cards were frozen. I needed his approval just to buy a coffee. Then my brother's illness came back. I begged him for a five-grand advance to save his life. I begged him all night at his private club. He gave me ten dollars. And a sneer. He mocked, "A woman who betrayed me for money. This is all you're worth." I clutched that ten-dollar bill and cried next to my brother's corpse until I couldn't breathe. Meanwhile, Rocco was spending a fortune on a birthday party for his new girl. When I woke up, I didn't cry. I didn't scream. I just found him, perfectly calm, and threw the divorce papers in his face. He gave a scornful laugh. He scoffed, "You want a divorce over five grand, Ava? Seriously?"

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.

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.

I died five years ago. Now my husband, the Don of our Mafia family, wants me to take the fall for his sister again—this time for accidentally killing a British noble's heir during an arms deal. He's holding a fake confession letter with my forged signature, storming into my old apartment in the rust district, only to find it empty. Frustrated, he grabs the corner store owner downstairs, demanding to know where I am. The owner pauses, wiping his hands on his apron, calmly tells him: "Serafine? She died five years ago." "Heard it was retaliation from a rival family during the gang war. They ambushed her in an alley... shot her over a dozen times. She died immediately." My husband, Lucien, refuses to believe it. Convinced the owner is on my payroll, hiding me to help me escape his reach. He scoffs, his eyes filled with scorn: "Oh, so what? Because I called her out for messing up that last job, now she's throwing a tantrum?" "You tell her, if she doesn't come back and take the fall in three days, I'll revoke her grandmother's 'special family protection'! Let the old woman rot!" With that, he storms out, his rage still simmering. The owner watches him leave and sighs, shaking his head. "There's no grandmother left to protect... That woman passed away not long after Serafine did... couldn't survive the winter without our family's medical supplies and protection..."