Contos sobre Feel-Good Story e Romances com Mafia e Regret

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."

The night before our engagement party, I took two bullets for Don Luca Marchetti and ended up in the hospital. But instead of canceling the party, he went ahead with the ceremony—with another woman. Everyone on the East Coast expected me to lose it. That day, I fought through the pain in my back, slipped into a red dress, and walked into the party. The moment Luca saw me, he pulled his fiancée, Ivy Palmer, behind him. I knew that worried look. I'd worn it countless times whenever I thought he might get hurt. Then, out of nowhere, lines of floating text appeared before my eyes and began scrolling past. "Don't believe it, sweetie! Luca's only pretending he doesn't love you! He's trying to keep you safe!" "Right, you're the heroine of this sweet romance! Luca only loves you!" In my last life, I believed every word of those comments. In the end, the woman by his side shoved me into a fire, and I burned to death as he watched without lifting a finger. This time, I wouldn't be stupid enough to fall for him again. I walked up to him with a faint smile. "Don, I wish you and your Donna a lifetime of happiness together." But after I walked away for good, Luca came crawling back, crying and begging me for another chance.

After being dumped for the 99th time for being a “chatterbox,” I finally met my soulmate, Lysander Thorne. As the Mafia godfather, he was a man of few words, but listened to every single word I said with rapt attention. His proposal shattered the curse that had doomed me to a hundred rejections. But, I discovered a fatal flaw in Lysander after we got married. Whatever he spoke to me, he never exceeded ten words. I thought it was his stoic personality until I gave a hand to a girl being harassed by a thug at the bar. At the police station, the girl asked, “Has your husband not arrived yet? My friend will pick me up and you can leave with us.” The next second, I saw Lysander rushing in, looking utterly disheveled. “Elara Thorne! Why do you stir up trouble on your very first day back home? You've got wings of your own now, haven’t you? Did I ever tell you to stay safe firstly when something happened? Stop being so impulsive!” It turned out Lysander could get emotional. How ridiculous! When Lysander entered, his eyes were solely fixed on Elara. I looked at him with a blank expression, and wordlessly walked out of the police station.

My boyfriend of five—Evan Callister, suddenly proposed to me. Everyone flooded me with congratulations. I felt happy too, quickly started planning our wedding. Then I overheard him talking with his gang friends. Apparently, I wasn’t his only option. Just one of five women he’d been seriously considering for marriage. A lineup that included his childhood sweetheart, a few of his long-time bed warmers, and some well-connected heiresses whose families could do wonders for his. “I didn’t imagine that you actually gonna marry Liora at the end, I thought Viola’s still the one you love.” And then Evan, “Liora’s father died. If I marry her, I could have all of her money and the casino. She cannot do a thing about it. She only has me as her family now.” “And what if Viola hears about your wedding and freaks?” his friend teased. Evan chuckled. “I told her that I will make Liora conveniently die after the wedding. Then her and I can get marry instead.” My heart iced over. But I didn’t cry or confront or even blink. Instead, I made the call to the man my father had always wanted me to marry — the one of noble status, the one everyone admired, the one I’d avoided. And just said one thing, “My wedding is three days from now. Come and elope with me.”

Everyone in the Mafia knew that Viktor Castro, Don of the Castro family, adored his wife. When I complained that New York winters were too cold, he wiped out a rival Miami crew just to claim a private estate where I could escape the snow. When I told him I wanted romance, he lit up the Manhattan skyline and swore on the honor of his family: "Isabella, I will never betray you." He planted roses for me at the old family estate in Sicily and vowed before the heads of the family that I would be the only woman he would ever love. He broke a century-old rule and handed me control of the family's most important businesses, giving me authority equal to his own. But tonight, tangled in our sheets, I found a pair of black lace panties. And they were not mine.

"Are you crazy, Donna Gallo?!" The doctor, Corey Dickson, stared at the plastic surgery proposal I had given him. He said in a trembling voice, "Don Gallo would never allow you to do something like this." I smiled softly. "He's too busy having an affair with a world-famous celebrity. He doesn't have time to notice me." Corey was taken aback. I looked at my wedding picture on the wall. Stefan was hugging me while looking at me with great tenderness in his eyes, but just yesterday, I watched him lead that celebrity into our bedroom. He pressed her down in bed as she stared at the silver handgun at the end of the bed and panted, "Aren't you afraid that I was sent here by the enemy to seduce you, Don Gallo? Are you sure you want to put that gun away?" Stefan laughed in a low voice. "It'd be worth it to die in your arms." That gun never left his side. This was the first time he put it aside for someone else. That was when I realized that this was the end of my marriage. It was time for me to leave. I had to find a way to leave this city, where the Don had eyes everywhere, without getting caught.

After Isabella loses the three children she carried for the mafia don Matteo, she finally tears herself away from his lies. But when Matteo discovers the truth behind the deaths, his guilt collides with the woman he once used as a pawn, and every secret he buried comes back to destroy the power he thought he controlled.

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?

Every Mafia family in Sicily knew the story. Susie Campbell, the pampered princess of the Campbell family, had an older sister, Selina Campbell, who loved her more than life itself. On the day Susie's arranged marriage was settled, Selina simply signed her own businesses over to her. But in less than a year, Susie's husband cheated on her. Selina and her husband, Charles Romano, surrounded the estate with guns drawn that same day and threatened to kill him if he refused to sign the divorce papers. All of Sicily envied the bond between the two sisters. Until Charles died in an accident. Then came the day Selina went to claim the inheritance. The estate administrator told her, "I'm sorry, but only a legal spouse can inherit." Selina explained at once. "I'm his wife. Here are my documents." The administrator shook his head. "The records show that you aren't his spouse. You divorced twenty-eight years ago. His current legal spouse is Susie Campbell." The blood drained from Selina's face. She rushed straight back to the estate. The moment she walked in, the attorney handling the estate was already there. He was reading. "Charles Romano left the estate and bank accounts to Susie Campbell. The remaining businesses and shares go to your daughter, Emma Romano. "Selina Campbell is to receive the country house." Susie said, her voice trembling, "Selina, I'm so sorry. Don't worry, I'll move out of the estate." Emma turned on her. "Mom, don't take this out on Aunt Susie just because you're hurt. You already have the country house. Why isn't that enough for you?" Selina tried to speak, but her throat had closed up completely. She had never imagined that the sister she had protected all her life and the daughter she had raised so carefully would conspire with her own husband to deceive her. Everything churning in Selina's chest surged upward in a spray of blood. Voices kept calling her name somewhere nearby. When she woke again, she was twenty-eight years in the past.

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."

The Hawaii honeymoon we'd promised each other on our wedding day kept getting postponed, year after year. Now, in the third year, it was finally happening. I was so excited I packed my bags three days early and headed to the airport. That's when I saw her childhood best friend standing right there with her. Meeting my confused gaze, Claire explained matter-of-factly, "There were only two tickets left, and Ryan really wanted to see Hawaii, so I went ahead and bought his." "How about you get another ticket tomorrow and catch up with us? Or, we can just wait for next time." Next time again. But I was done waiting. I waved at them. "Have a safe trip." Then I turned around and called my father, the Don of the Moretti family. "Father, I need the private jet. I'm going to Hawaii for a few days." "Oh, and that thirty-million-dollar investment we gave Claire? Shut it down."

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.

The Ivanovas and the Vitales are well-known aristocratic families who have maintained everlasting friendship through generations. My name is Anastasia Ivanova. I have been the daughter of the Ivanovas for twenty years, only to discover just now that I was switched at birth. When I was swept out of the Ivanova’s mansion like rubbish, Lorenzo, the youngest son of the Vitale family, firmly picked me up in spite of all objections. Lorenzo always acted cold and distant toward me. I didn’t know why he came to take me into his car at that time. He whispered in my ear again and again, ‌"I’ve wanted you for a long time."‌ He pinned me against the leather seat, making me cry until my voice was hoarse. At that moment, I finally understood his coldness over the years was not indifference but restraint. Soon after, Lorenzo overrode all objections to marry me. His parents were vehemently against me, but Lorenzo directly stripped them of power and became the youngest godfather. Scarlett Montgomery tried to stop us from getting married, but Lorenzo canceled all her credit cards and threatened to send her away. I thought we would have a happy life. Three days before our wedding ceremony, he planned to send me abroad, claiming enemies might retaliate. But, I accidentally overheard him talking to Scarlett in the hallway at night. "Thank goodness. You tricked her into leaving until after I give birth. You’re so good to me!"‌ He kissed her cheek, ‌"I don’t want Anastasia know our affair. You must keep it secret."‌ Their dialogue made me devastated. But I didn’t confront him immediately. Instead, I quietly completed my immigration paperwork as a way to make a clean break with him.

My best friend, Mia Collinson, was complaining to me yet again about how rough and relentless her fiancé was in bed. I half-listened, absentmindedly wiping down the custom Browning pistol my husband, Darien Allerton, had recently given me. A few years back, as the ruthless head of the Allerton family, Darien had been ambushed by a rival crew during a shootout. They'd injected him with a hallucinogenic aphrodisiac, leaving him with psychological trauma that made him incapable of being intimate with women. Still, for the past five years, he had treated me like a queen. He gave me Sicilian estates, garages packed with bulletproof supercars, and rare pink diamonds paid for in blood. Even when an ocean separated us, he would fight through the jet lag and the brutality of his daily life to show up at my safe house in the middle of the night, holding me tight while he slept. I thought it was proof of his unwavering devotion in our chaotic world. Up until the day of Mia's massive mafia wedding. I'd brought her a ten-carat blue diamond as a gift, hoping to surprise her. But the second I pushed open the door to the church dressing room, my smile vanished. The man inside wasn't the groom. It was Darien.

When I returned to the Costello family as the long-lost daughter, I was dressed in my adoptive sister's hand-me-downs, and the family driver came only for her. Still, they felt guilty toward the daughter they had raised in my absence. So when the government rolled out the Fairness System, they registered the whole family before I could blink. My father exhaled with relief. "With this system enforcing absolute equality, Brittany won't ever have to suffer again." My mother took my hand, her voice leaving no room for argument. "You came home and stole everything that belonged to her. That's not fair to Brittany." My brother didn't bother hiding his contempt. "I only acknowledge one sister. You already got more than you deserve. Don't push your luck." I ate leftovers while she had private chefs. I sweated in a closet while she slept in a custom-designed suite. I almost laughed. When the system went live, they were the ones who fell apart.

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

On our seventh anniversary, Don Leonardo Luciano gave me an eight-carat pigeon's-blood ruby ring. He told me it was a family heirloom, passed from one Donna to the next. "Camilla, I can't give you a wedding yet, but in my heart, you're already my wife." My eyes filled with tears as I slipped it onto my finger. Then I asked my best friend, Nora Bennett, to examine it after her shift at the auction house. She held it under a lamp and slowly turned the stone. A ring of crimson light appeared inside it. "This isn't a natural ruby." "How is that possible? Leonardo gave it to me. It's a family heirloom." Nora frowned. "Really? I heard every piece of Luciano family jewelry bears a gold lion crest. Does yours have one?" I took off the ring and checked. Nothing. Just then, a new story from Victoria Moretti popped up on my feed. She was the daughter of another powerful mafia family. The photo showed her aboard Leonardo's private yacht. And on her finger was a ring identical to mine. A man stood beside her, his face hidden from view. But I recognized the watch on his wrist. I'd given it to Leonardo. Then I saw the caption. "After all this time, you finally put the family ring on my finger."

During our decade together, I stay by Felix Valentino's side as he slowly ascends to the peak of the mafia world. I become the woman he trusts most. However, he secretly names an island that we fought for and won together after my best friend, Lilian Fenati. Why? Because Lilian is terminally ill. Her dying wish is to marry Felix on the island named after her. Felix clamps down on this and forbids anyone from telling me. He has no idea Lilian live streams the whole thing for me. That night, I cry my heart out. Meanwhile, Felix spends the night with Lilian. I lie in a pool of blood. My heart condition acts up, and my breathing starts to slow. Where is Felix? At the hospital with Lilian. Five days later, I accept a marriage proposal from Harold Bonanno, the mafia king.

Seven years into my secret marriage to Leon Ferrante—Don of the Ferrante Family—and he still wouldn't make it public. Before the vows, I was his Consigliere. Every arms deal went through me. After? Just another housewife. Swapped my holster for an apron. Kitchen counter became my war zone. He didn't want kids. Said he had to take care of his autistic little brother. I got it. So I gave it all up—for his Family, for that kid. The Family blew up fast. The kid? Went from blank stares to sharp comebacks. Even started talking. But Leon still kept me in the dark. His mother wouldn't quit. "Give him a healthy heir. He'll settle down." I thought maybe she was right. I clung to him for a few nights. I got pregnant. Came home with the results, ready to tell him— Then I heard his "autistic" brother ask, clear as day: "Papa, are you gonna divorce Anna and marry someone else?"

On a flight, my boyfriend Cassio tried to steal a seat for his pregnant childhood sweetheart. Last time, I stopped him. I forced him to return the seat to its rightful owner. Out of spite, his sweetheart Ella refused to take the seat. She stood through the entire flight. By the time we landed, she miscarried. She bled out and died. Cassio never blamed me. He arranged her funeral quietly… Then married me. He gave me the best prenatal care, the finest doctors, and a seemingly perfect life. Until the day I went into labor. He put me on a long-haul flight with multiple layovers. And when I collapsed in a filthy airport restroom, bleeding and barely conscious— He looked down at me with pure hatred. “Serena, this is what you owe her.” “If you hadn’t interfered back then, Ella would still be alive.” “Today, you and your bastard child will pay for her and her baby.” When I opened my eyes again, I was back on that flight. Watching him berate the plainly dressed woman, I quietly put on my noise-canceling headphones. He didn’t know that woman was the beloved wife of the most dangerous mafia Don in the city. And the kick he was about to deliver— Would be their death sentence. This time, I just watched.