Mafia Short Stories & Novels

During an argument with my fiancé, he lost his temper and slapped me across the face in front of the entire family and guests. That same day, I called off the engagement and blocked him on every last platform so that he could not reach me. No one could believe it. After all, we grew up together. Everyone knew I had been in love with him since we were kids, and we were supposed to get married right after college. He just stood there, looking lost. "Why, Gia? Over a slap?" I held his gaze. "Sì. Over a slap."

Just because I post one picture with my younger brother, Lucas Gambino, his girlfriend Betty Gotti decides I'm the other woman. She rolls up to my place with her crew, live‑streaming the whole thing while they tear it apart. "Look at this puttana trying to steal my man!" Betty shouts to the camera. "She's got the face to flirt, but not the spine to admit it! Give me ideas, chat—I'll teach her some respect." Those psychos destroyed everything. My jewelry, my designer clothes, my bags… they didn't spare a thing. Not even the ring my parents left me. Then, with the viewers egging her on, Betty crossed the line. She had her girls strip me bare on stream. Her chat was going wild, donations pouring in—until my brother saw it. When Lucas kicked in the door to pull me out, I looked at him through eyes that burned. "Dump the girlfriend," I told him. "Or you can forget about ever being the Don."

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?

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.

Seven years into our engagement, Riccardo Mazzoni turns our wedding into a mock divorce ceremony as some kind of sick joke. Instead of screaming or throwing a fit, I simply stand there, calm and silent. And just like that, I'm completely done with him. His men all around us erupt in laughter. "Elena Leone, the Don is just messing with you. You're not actually mad, are you?" I don't say a word. The laughter dies down, and the church becomes dead silent. Riccardo drops his smirk, walks up to me, and gently strokes my cheek. "What's wrong, Elena? Are you really mad?" As I look up to meet his gaze, I suddenly remember the conversation I overheard between him and his men last night. "Don Mazzoni, are you really going through with this? Aren't you afraid Elena will leave you if you make a fool out of her?" Riccardo lets out a scoff. "I promised Sofia Coppola I'd prank Elena at our wedding. Once the prank is over, I'll make it up to Elena with the most extravagant wedding imaginable. "She's been with me for seven years. We love each other too much for her to leave me." Right now, I just stare at him. I then tear off my veil. "A divorce ceremony, huh? Then by all means, continue."

Six years ago, I took a bullet for Dante Romano, the head of one of New York’s most powerful Mafia families. The injury nearly cost me any chance of becoming a mother. At my hospital bedside, Dante swore that as long as I survived, he would never need children. Then, against all odds, I became pregnant. I was about to tell him when I heard a little girl call him Daddy in a voice message on his phone. That was how I discovered Dante had fathered twins with his former secretary, Bianca. Everyone in the Romano family knew about them. Everyone except me. Dante continued to call me the only woman he loved, even as he gave Bianca a ring and prepared her son to inherit the family. I didn’t confront him. I didn’t tell him I was carrying his child. On our wedding anniversary, I staged a yacht explosion and let the world believe Elena Romano—and her unborn baby—had died at sea.

After I was caught in a dockside explosion, I was bound to a Survival Program. It gave me twenty-five years and four designated targets. If even one target’s Love Score or bond score reached 100%, I could wake up in my real world. But I failed all four. Because every target I tried to reach eventually turned toward Sophia Lane, the heroine of this world. They called my pain a performance. They called my tears manipulation. They said I was only pretending to break down so they would choose me over Sophia. But if they never loved me, why did they lose control when my mission failed and I chose to leave this world for good?

I was Damian Valenti’s legal wife. But to the rest of New York, Sofia Bellini was the woman he planned to marry—and I was the pregnant mistress who refused to let him go. Damian said it was only for show. Sofia’s husband had died saving his life, and he had promised to protect her. She needed the wedding and the title of Donna. I already had what mattered: his love, his fortune, and our real marriage. At least, that was what Damian believed. He was so certain I would understand that he spent our seventh anniversary helping Sofia choose her wedding dress. He never noticed that I was in the fitting room beside them, wearing the dress he had once promised to see me in. As Sofia admired herself in the mirror, Damian told her she looked beautiful. I lowered my eyes to the faint curve of my stomach and rested a hand over it. Then I made the one decision he never believed I was capable of making. He could give Sofia my wedding, my home, and my name. But he could no longer keep his wife and his heir.

After I had stood by Don Theo Vitale through the hardest seven years of his life, he asked me for a divorce on our anniversary. He wanted me to step aside for the daughter of one of the Five Families. “Caterina and I grew up together. Our backgrounds are a better match, too. You’ve killed too many people. Keeping you as my Donna is too dangerous.” “Here’s twenty million dollars. Leave New York.” Before we married, I had used my beauty countless times to get close to the men he wanted dead. Until his position as Don was secure. He used to tell me that every person I killed brought us closer to having a warm, loving home. We had been married for barely three years, and there was already no room for me in that home. My eyes filled with tears. He grew impatient. “Enough. You’ve used those tears on me too many times. I’ll throw in a seaside villa. Will that do?” A single tear slipped down my cheek. “…You can have the Rolls-Royce Phantom, too.” Now tears streamed down both cheeks. I simply couldn’t stop them. “Enough already! What else do you want?” If I couldn’t have love, money would do. I wanted everything the Vitale family owned.

It was a drunken game of Truth or Dare with the three boys I grew up running the streets with. Late into the night, riding the buzz, Matteo Bryant leaned in and dropped a bomb. "I’ve wanted you since we were kids, and I’m done biting my tongue... But my father is shipping me out to run Vegas. I know damn well you’re not built for long-distance." His eyes were bloodshot, raw with what felt like gut-wrenching honesty. My chest caved. I swore he meant every word. I had loved him for just as long. Hook, line, and sinker, I jumped right in. "The Hughes family is pushing their territory out west anyway. I’ll tell my parents I’m taking point. That way, we roll into the desert together." Matteo leaned in, pulling me into a slow, breathless kiss. With Nikolai and Julian shouting and egging us on from the couch, I signed the voluntary transfer papers right there on the glass table. The day the transfer went through, I went straight to Matteo to tell him we were set. Instead, I found the three of them locked away in the back room with Gia—the real Hughes bloodline, recently dragged back from the gutter. "You slick bastard, Matteo. Wrapped Sienna around your little finger with one damn kiss, selling her that bullshit about shipping out to Vegas. Fucking brilliant." Gia’s voice shook, sweet and sickening. "Matteo, you shouldn't have done that for me. Just looking at Sienna makes me feel sick that she took my life, but watching you throw yourself under the bus hurts worse." Matteo’s voice came out chillingly flat. "Once she’s tucked away in the desert, I won't have to waste my breath playing the doting boyfriend." I shoved the heavy door open. Our gazes collided right as the color drained from their faces.

To repay Victor for saving my life, I gave up a brilliant career as one of America's finest neurosurgeons and willingly became his trophy wife. For seven years, Victor lavished money on me and treated me with bone-deep tenderness. Yet his obsessive rules suffocated me. Every other week, I had to subject my scalp to agonizing bleach treatments to keep my hair icy platinum. I had to bathe in a discontinued Venetian white iris perfume. And I had to wear a fake beauty mark at the corner of my right eye. I once mistook it all for the obsessive devotion of a Mafia Don. Then, on the eve of our wedding of the century, I found a wall covered with portraits of another woman. The measurements of my gown, the carat weight of my ring, even the beauty mark Victor had tattooed beside my eye, all came from a dead woman's final wishes. After seven years of consuming passion, I was never his salvation. I was a living specimen, crafted to harbor the ghost of a dead woman.

Three days after our son’s funeral, my husband sentenced me to death. As head of the Arden Mafia Family, Callum Arden was judge, jury, and executioner. He believed I had murdered our eight-year-old son, and no amount of begging could change his mind. The last thing I remember is dirt falling onto my coffin as he walked away. Then I opened my eyes. I was back two weeks before my son’s death. This time, Nolan is still alive. This time, I can stop whoever destroyed my family. But the more I try to change the future, the more I realize something doesn’t add up. Because the man standing in front of me isn’t the monster I remember.

In the second year after dropping out of school, I decide to cosplay as a dancer and stage a chance encounter with my husband, Don Vincenzo Rossi, in order to give him a surprise. However, I happen to run into my old classmates in the club. When they see me pole dancing in a skimpy outfit, they burst into laughter immediately. Tatiana Lazzari, the one who's throwing the party and was my former bully at school, mocks me for being a lowly, slutty bitch. My ex-boyfriend, Cristian Paleno, who had cheated on me with Tatiana back then, has his brows drawn into a tight frown. He seems to feel sorry for me. "If you didn't insist on breaking up with me back then, Aria, you wouldn't have gotten reduced to having to work as a stripper." In order to spice up the party, they drag me into their private room and force me to strip in front of them. When I reject them, they dump all sorts of alcohol and beverages onto my exposed skin and my thin, skimpy clothes. Then, they force me to kneel between Cristian's legs in submission. As Cristian leans in close to my ear, I can see the lust brimming in his eyes. "Come back to me, Aria. Otherwise, you can only remain as a horny bitch for the rest of your life." Out of sheer jealousy and rage, Tatiana kicks me in the gut right away. That's when Vincenzo hurries to my side and scoops me into his arms. By then, I'm in so much pain that I'm all curled up. He then glares at everyone else, whose faces have gone white from terror. "How dare you harm my wife and our unborn child! You can forget about leaving this room today!"

After a campaign for the pack, I was gravely wounded, and rogues ambushed me on the way home. Dozens of rogues surrounded me, slashing wound after wound across my body. Meanwhile, my mate, the captain of the pack guard, had dropped everything to go to her first love, who was about to drink wolfsbane. In my past life, I sent her a mind-link, begging her to bring the guards and save me. She abandoned her first love, and I survived because of it. But by the time Vivian reached Gavin Cross's home, her first love had already drunk the wolfsbane and stopped breathing. Yet Vivian never blamed me, and we went on living happily together. Three years later, on my way back from my second campaign, rogues cornered me again. The one leading them was my own mate. "You lied to me that day, didn't you? You're an Alpha. There's no way you couldn't beat a band of rogues. But you were so jealous of Gavin that you forced me to your side, and I let him swallow wolfsbane and die in agony." "Today I want to see for myself whether one Alpha can really beat this many rogues." I fought for my life, but their claws were coated with wolfsbane, and in the end I died under them. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day the rogues first attacked me. This time, I decided to step aside and let her go save her first love.

My husband, Don Rocco Falcone, cheated on me while I was carrying his child. Then he demanded a divorce. For ten years, I'd bled for the Falcone family.I'd drunk myself into the hospital to close deals with Russian arms dealers.I'd taken three bullets meant for Rocco. Rocco still expected me to surrender my position as the Falcone family’s godmother. His supposed mistress pushed me down a flight of stairs. I woke in the hospital without my baby. Then, my sister, Claire, ran that bitch over with her car to avenge me, leaving the bitch paralyzed. Rocco learned about this,answered by pressing a gun to Claire’s head and shoving two documents toward me: the divorce papers and the form surrendering my position as godmother. "Sign," he said, "or she dies." Claire was my last living relative. All I could do was compromise. Hours later, voices reached me through the hospital door. "Claire, your plan was perfect," Rocco said. "Sofia will never figure out that the woman pretending to be my mistress was an actress. You’re the one I’m sleeping with." My fingers stopped against the blanket. Claire laughed softly. "She was never as smart as me. She joined the mob when she was young. I graduated from a top school." "You'll help me run the family businesses,"Rocco said."You'll do a better job than Sofia ever did." Right then, something inside me just died. The man I had once loved. The only family I had left. They had betrayed me together. I picked up my phone and called Rocco's greatest enemy. "Do you want the Falcone family erased from Chicago?"I asked. "I can help you."

Days before our wedding, Adrian Vitale fastened the Vitale family's emerald necklace, passed down for three generations, around my sister's neck. He was the new Don of the Vitale family, one of New York's Mafia families. I was the Moretti daughter he was supposed to marry. The necklace had always gone to the woman the Vitale family recognized as its Donna. Adrian had promised to fasten it around my neck himself at our wedding. "I lost to your sister at cards last night, so the necklace is hers." My sister, Vivian Moretti, bumped Adrian's arm playfully. "You're really giving me your family heirloom? Aren't you worried my little sister will be mad?" Adrian gave her an indulgent look. "It's just a necklace. I can buy another one. It's not every day you're this happy." I touched my bare neck. "But you said that necklace would only ever go to your wife." My voice came out rough. My parents' faces darkened. "It's just a necklace. You've been giving things up to your sister since you were little. What's one more? Don't throw a tantrum right before the wedding." They always said my sister was better than me, and good things were wasted on anyone but her. I'd had to give her the pretty dresses, the toys I loved, even my rare chances to travel. I'd thought Adrian would be the one person who'd choose me and keep choosing me. But now even the heirloom necklace that marked a woman as his family's Donna had been handed to my sister like it was nothing. Their smiles made my eyes sting, but a strange calm was slowly settling over me. I looked up at Adrian. "Since you've given her the necklace, she can have my fiancé too."

Three days ago, the Lucchese Family's assassins ambushed a Moretti Family stronghold, and I threw myself in front of Eric without a second thought. That was the fourth time I'd taken a bullet for him. But before I could even begin to recover from the gunshot wound, my attending physician handed me an even more devastating diagnosis: late-stage brain cancer. The tumor had already metastasized, and I had less than a month to live. Just as I sat there in agony,Eric walked in，he strode to my bedside and took my hand, his expression tender with concern. Knowing I only had days left, I tested the waters. "Eric... when are we getting married? Will you marry me?" "Soon, soon, sweetheart. Trust me. Once I've secured the Don's seat and cleared out all those old men in the Family who oppose me, I'll give you the most spectacular wedding this country has ever seen. I'll make sure everyone knows that you, Selena, are the only woman worthy of standing by my side." His voice was so sincere that it could have fooled anyone. But in that very instant, I heard another voice. [Damn it, why is Selena bringing up marriage now? Doesn't she know I'm at the most critical moment in the power struggle? Angelina is the Astalotta Family's princess. Only by marrying her can I get her father's backing and secure my position as the Moretti Don once and for all.] [Marrying Angelina is just a strategic move. I'm putting on a show with her, using her family's influence. Selena is the true love of my life. Why can't she just be a little more understanding and stop pressuring me at the worst possible time?] I could hear Eric's thoughts. And what chilled me to the bone was the brutal truth hidden in those thoughts. I closed my eyes, exhausted. I didn't expose him. I didn't have the strength to confront him. I was out of time.

In my last life, my sister Serena Vega ran to Monaco the night before her wedding, and my family shoved me into her dress before dawn. Damian Lucchese, the young Godfather of New York, had been waiting at the altar for her. The moment he lifted my veil and saw me instead, the warmth in his eyes went cold. For five years, I was his hidden wife. The underworld knew he was married, but no one knew to whom. My parents blamed me for stealing Serena’s place and still failing to keep his heart. Then Serena came home. That Christmas, Damian took her and my parents to his mountain estate. When a blizzard hit, his men rushed everyone onto the helicopter. No one remembered me. I died in that frozen house, three months pregnant with Damian’s child. When I opened my eyes again, Serena had just returned to New York. This time, I would not beg for love. Only when I truly walked away, none of them had the right to regret it.

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 in the Rossi famiglia knows that their Don, Gabriele Rossi, is a man of his word. He promises his son, Ettore Rossi, that he'll take him to the newly opened amusement park on his tenth birthday. However, halfway there, his phone rings. Gabriele immediately pulls over and gives Ettore a curt order. "Wait at the intersection. I'll send someone to take you home." Then, he kicks his ten-year-old son out of the car and speeds off. He's in such a hurry to be with another woman that he doesn't even notice when his Soldato's car breaks down en route. A torrential downpour rages at the highway junction. Ettore waits for his ride, but it never comes; all that comes is a horrific chain-reaction crash on the highway. I stare at his lifeless body on the cold autopsy table and notice he's still clutching the ticket to the amusement park in a vice grip. With trembling hands, I dial Gabriele's number. The moment the call connects, before I can utter a single word, he rushes out, "Please apologize to Ettore on my behalf! I'll definitely take him next time. Bella's injured, and she doesn't know how to take care of herself, so I have to stay with her tonight." The very next second, he hangs up on me. At that moment, I know our son's dead, and so is our marriage. I wipe away my tears and dial an encrypted number I haven't used in years. "I want to go home." A voice full of reverence comes through the receiver. "Welcome home, Principessa Clemente. Don Clemente has been waiting for you."