Mafia Tragic Love の短編小説 & 小説

My husband, Adriano Moretti, the Don of the Moretti famiglia, brings a three-year-old boy back to the estate. Adriano's mother, Vittoria Moretti, calls for a family meeting. In front of all the core members, she announces that the boy will be raised by me. She says he is the only surviving bloodline of her late eldest son, Luca Moretti. Vittoria says, "It's very chaotic out there right now. His birth mother can't protect him. Lucrezia, if you don't take him in, he won't survive the winter in Sezarro." My heart goes out to the little boy, and I take him in. In the next seven years, I personally raise Antonino into the finest child in the Moretti famiglia. I tell Adriano I want a child of our own. However, he keeps coming up with the same excuse. "Antonino is Luca's only son. I'm afraid that if we have a child, he'll feel like we don't love him anymore. We can have our own child once he's old enough to understand. There's no rush." Thinking about all the hardships Antonino has endured since childhood, I feel sorry for him too and never bring it up again. When Antonino is ten, he has a sudden asthma attack that lands him in the hospital. When I arrive outside his room at the private hospital, I hear Vittoria say, "Lucrezia doesn't have a child of her own yet. With Antonino by her side all these years, she got to experience being a mother. "But if she finds out Antonino is your biological son, will she still devote all her resources and energy to raising him?" Adriano remains silent. That night, I go to the Moretti famiglia's archives alone. After searching for a long time, I finally find Antonino's birth records that are hidden away. On his birth certificate, I see the name written under the birth father column—Adriano Moretti. It turns out that the child I've been raising for seven years as the orphaned son of Adriano's deceased brother is actually his illegitimate child all along. Seven years ago, I brought that child into the Moretti famiglia. Seven years later, I cross my own name off the family registry and walk out of the Moretti estate alone.

From the age of ten, every dollar my parents spent on me became a debt. Tuition. Clothes. Food. Even medical bills. By eighteen, I had signed one hundred and ninety-nine promissory notes. But Camilla—the daughter of the man who died protecting my parents—received everything for free. They gave her my bedroom, my inheritance bracelet, a Manhattan apartment, a Maserati, and eventually even the attention of my fiancé, Nick. My parents called it repaying her father’s sacrifice. They called my suffering “heir training.” On the eighteenth birthday Camilla and I shared, I was seriously injured in a car accident. While my family celebrated her aboard a Caribbean yacht, I begged them for three thousand dollars to pay for emergency surgery. They accused me of inventing the accident to ruin her party. Then Mom told me to sign another promissory note. That became number two hundred. I finally understood that no amount of obedience would make them choose me. So I gave myself seven days to repay every cent, surrender the DeLuca name, and end my engagement.

I had been secretly dating my brother’s best friend, the heir to the Moretti family, for seven years, and I was planning to propose to him at the family banquet. Following his location, I found him at a drinking party, only to overhear their laughter through a crack in the private room door. “Vito, your Cinderella is back. What are you planning to do with the little stand-in?” The room fell silent for a few seconds. Then another underboss sneered. “Vito’s got some nerve. You even dared to touch the most beloved princess of the current Sicilian Mafia Don. Now that you’ve had your fill of sweetness, Lucia has come back…” “She left so heartlessly back then. She deserved to be pissed off with a replacement!” The next day, Vito took me to Lucia’s welcome-back banquet, putting on an extravagant show of affection for me. But when Lucia rushed into the rain with tears in her eyes, he shoved me aside and chased after her in a panic. Covered in soup stains and burns, I went home and opened the secret door he had never allowed me to enter. Photographs of him and Lucia, once inseparable, covered the desk. My heart turned to ash as I picked up the encrypted line to my brother in Sicily. “Brother, I’ve thought it over. About the arranged marriage in Chicago—I agree!”

In the fifth year of my secret marriage to Dante Greco, a notorious Los Angeles mafia heir, I became pregnant. While I was at the family hospital for a prenatal checkup, I happened to see Vivienne Sarti's Instagram. "He says I'm still pretty even when I'm pregnant!" In the photo, she was lying lazily in a man's arms. My chest tightened at once. On his finger was the lion-head ring worn by the Greco Don. I tapped the "Like" button. Seconds later, Vivienne called me. "Ana, I wasn't trying to upset you. I was—" Before Vivienne could finish, Dante snatched the phone from her. "Anna Reid, who gave you permission to monitor our social media accounts? I've explained it to you plenty of times. We grew up together, and our families work together. If you keep getting jealous like this, how are the rest of us supposed to function?" I gripped my phone. For five years, Vivienne had used their childhood bond as an excuse to insult me. I had endured it every time. Dante would spend whole nights with Vivienne under the pretext of discussing family business. The moment I asked about it, he refused to say a word. He always said it was because I had no mafia background of my own. It wasn't my world, and I was done trying to force my way into it. I took off my wedding ring and dropped it in a trash can on the street. Then I called the private hospital. "Hello. I want today's prenatal record deleted. No one can know about it."

At the altar, right before we exchanged rings, my husband Julian stopped. "The heads of both families are here," he said. "Let's get this out in the open." A pause. "Seraphina Gallo... she's carrying my child. Three months" I stood there in my pure white, handmade gown. "What did you say?" He adjusted his cuff. So elegant. "The next heir to the Valenti family can't be a bastard." He looked at me with those blue eyes I used to drown in. "Don't worry. You'll still be my only woman. You just can't have the title of Donna. I'll sign over the Upper East Side penthouse. I'll take care of you." Take care of me? Ten years. An engagement ring. Now, a joke for the entire New York underworld. The antique Cartier cross my mother left me—our promise to each other—was still on his neck. I reached for it. He grabbed my wrist, frowning. "Alessia, don't make a scene. Don't embarrass your dying father." My father. Lying in a private suite, kept alive by a machine that cost a fortune. He'd mortgaged his life's work—his leather shop—for this wedding. Snickers from the guests. Julian's mother, matriarch of the Valenti family smirked. "Don't blame my Julian. A purse-maker's daughter marrying into a Cosa Nostra family? Pure fantasy." Through my tears, I saw a man leaning against the church doorframe. Caspian. Everyone knew him. The unkillable underground fighter from the docks. A plaything for the rich to bet on in their cages. He must have just come from a deathmatch—he smelled of motor oil and blood. He just stood there, watching this train wreck. The entire mob knew this beast. Came from the slums, no parents, lived in a leaky warehouse nobody dared go near. I ripped off my veil and pointed straight at him. "Julian Valenti, I'm not marrying you. I'm marrying him."

After I was kidnapped by my Family’s enemies, I was left with severe PTSD. I couldn’t stand the noise of intense sound. On our wedding day, my husband, the Mafia Don Andre, swore before God that he would create a world of silence for me. For five years, he never wore any device that made a sound. He even ordered that no gunshots were to be heard anywhere in Sicily, losing several major deals because of it. Until my best friend Alice returned to Sicily and openly played rock music inside the estate. The terror of being kidnapped came rushing back. I crawled onto the floor, begging and apologizing over and over. Tears mixed with the blood running down my face as I kept hitting my head against the ground. Half an hour later, the music stopped. Alice held up her phone, laughing so hard she could barely stand. “Oh my God. She actually thought she was being kidnapped again.” Andre recorded my humiliation with a phone in his hand while laughing and comforting me. “Alice said this is exposure therapy. After a few more times, you won’t be afraid anymore.” My brother stared at me through the screen and scolded me from the other side. “Monica, look at yourself. How can you possibly be worthy of being a Donna?” My entire body was drenched in sweat. My hair was covered in blood, and I couldn’t even stand. I stared at the note in Andre’s hand, and realized. Last month, he was the one who replaced my noise-canceling headphones with headphones that played nothing but loud noises. Last week, he was the one who took me to that noisy bar. The silence he once built for me was now being destroyed by his own hands. Slowly, I pushed myself up from the floor. I didn’t scream. I didn’t cry. I simply looked at him.I no longer wanted to remain in his world.

Before my wedding, my parents and my best friend shoved me into the storage room. “Stay hidden and keep quiet. Wait for the Godfather to come find you. That’s the only way you’ll find happiness!” I curled up in the corner, waiting from dawn until nightfall, but no one ever came. Just as I was about to push the door open, I realized the storage room had been locked from the outside. I pounded on the door with all my strength, smashing at the lock until my hands were covered in blood. But when I finally made it to the wedding venue, I saw my twin sister wearing my wedding dress, her arm linked through my fiancé’s as they prepared to walk onto the stage and exchange their vows. “Are you sure this is okay? I’m afraid my sister will be angry.” Beth shyly leaned into Edward’s arms and whispered. My best friend, Alice, laughed. “What are you afraid of?” “You were the one who fell for Edward first. You’re just taking back what was always yours.” “Besides, she’s locked in the storage room right now. She’ll never find out!” Edward nodded and tightened his arm around Beth’s waist. “Let’s just think of it as fulfilling the marriage we never got to have. She deserves it.” My parents watched from the side and let out a wistful sigh. “If it weren’t for Monica, this wedding would have been Beth’s in the first place.” “I wish more than anything that Beth and Edward could be together.” I stood frozen in place, cold spreading through my entire body. So everyone had been in on this deception, while I was the only one kept in the dark. If that was the case, then I wanted nothing to do with this fake marriage or this fake love ever again.

Ricardo Tucci suffered from severe prosopagnosia, constantly mistaking me for my best friend, Ella Henderson. At an antique auction, he won the gem brooch I had coveted for years, only to hand the box to Ella. When I pointed out his mistake, he merely shrugged it off. "It's just a piece of jewelry. Since it suits her, she can keep it." At an exclusive gala, Ricardo walked down the red carpet with Ella on his arm, while I, his actual fiancée, was stopped at the doors, left to endure the humiliating stares of high society. Afterward, his excuse was as careless as ever. "My face blindness got in the way again. Sorry you had to deal with that." On my birthday, he promised to drive us to our dinner reservation. I waited three agonizing hours in a downpour, only to find out over the phone that he had picked up Ella instead. "Sorry, the rain was too heavy to see clearly." Time after time, I swallowed my disappointment, clinging to the hope that his condition might improve. Until a massive fire consumed the estate, trapping both Ella and me inside. Ricardo stormed through the flames with his men. In all the chaos, he scooped someone up into his arms and evacuated without a second thought. The person he carried to safety was Ella. Trapped in the blaze, I watched as his back disappeared into the thick smoke, tears of total desperation falling down my face. Ricardo, I'm done playing to your convenience.

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.

My mother, Diane Sutton, was helping me into the bridal suite when she suddenly stumbled forward. Someone had smeared strong adhesive across the red carpet. Her shoe came off, and four of her toes poked through her torn stocking. My father, Martin Sutton, rushed over to help her, but as soon as he turned, everyone saw the sticky note on his back. "Clearance! 99 cents!" The room fell silent. Chiara Lombardi, Enzo Valli's assistant, couldn't hold back anymore. She burst out laughing, then said, "Look how embarrassing they look! I hereby declare the 100th test officially underway!" I froze. "Wasn't it already over?" Three years ago, Enzo told me he wanted to marry me. His father, Don Marco Valli, respected me as an attorney but believed my family background made me unfit to marry his son. So Marco and his advisor came up with 99 tests and put Chiara in charge of them. They hoped I'd eventually give up and call off the wedding myself. Over the next three years, Chiara replaced my toothpaste with mustard, swapped my shampoo for depilatory cream, and even released rats into my room at night. Whenever I felt like I couldn't take it anymore, Enzo would pull me into his arms and murmur, "Nora, just hang on a little longer. Once the tests are over, I promise no one will ever hurt you again." He could not openly defy the procedure the advisor had set, but he never once bothered to ask what Chiara had put me through. As long as we got married in the end, what I endured along the way didn't matter. Last night was the 99th test. I thought the nightmare was finally over. Then Chiara announced, "You passed. But your parents haven't! You're going to be the Donna one day. Your parents represent the Family too. If they can't handle something this minor, what good are they?" I turned to Enzo for help. He ruffled my hair as if soothing a petulant child. "Do as Chiara says. Just hang on a little longer." I'd put up with this for three years. I was done enduring it.

My younger sister, Arianna Valenti, is engaged to Dario Lancieri, heir of the Lancieri family. But after drinking a glass of spiked champagne, I end up sleeping with Dario. To preserve the alliance between our families, my Madre decides that I will marry Dario in Arianna's place. I marry the man Arianna loves, while she is sent away to marry the gravely ill elderly Don of the Bellini family as part of a political alliance. On her wedding day, Arianna is ambushed and killed by a rival faction. From that moment on, Dario hates me with all his heart. Our marriage lasts for more than 20 years, filled with nothing but indifference and humiliation. On the day I finally succumb to my illness, Dario doesn't even come to see me. He only sends someone to deliver a single message. "Vera, stay the hell away from me in your next life." … When I open my eyes again, I'm back at the exact moment I receive the spiked champagne. Before I can even react, Dario snatches the glass from my hand and smashes it against the floor. I look at the way he gazes at Arianna, and suddenly, I understand. He has been reborn as well. In front of both our parents, he takes Arianna's hand and announces, "Arianna and I are getting married this month. As for Vera… she can fulfill the arranged marriage instead." Memories of my death flash through my mind. This time, I'll give him exactly what he wants. "Fine. I agree."

While my husband, Don Raffaele Borgia, is away on a business trip, I drive out to a warehouse on the outskirts of the city to take care of some business. I log into the car's navigation system and enter my destination, but the familiar mechanical voice is nowhere to be heard. Instead, a sweet, soft female voice comes through. "Amore mio, Alice will be your navigator today. Hearing my voice will be just like having me right by your side. You'll reach your destination in ten minutes." The car falls silent. I freeze in the driver's seat. Who the hell is Alice? I tighten my grip on the steering wheel and immediately call Raffaele. "When did you change the voice on your car's navigation system to some woman named Alice?" There's a noticeable pause in his breathing on the other end. Then he chuckles. "Oh, Alice Conti, my secretary. She borrowed my car to run an errand a while back. She probably changed it herself. What's wrong? Is the voice bothering you?" He sounds a little too casual. "I'll delete the voice pack when I get back. Don't overthink it. Alice and I are strictly business." Without asking more questions, I hang up and open the navigation history, only to notice the same address appears more than ten times. I start the car and follow the directions. Eventually, I pull up outside a familiar villa. My heart sinks when I look up and recognize the place.

After the car lost control on the highway, the passengers around me were all panicking, calling their loved ones to say what they thought might be their final goodbyes. The airbags had gone off. Glass covered the seats. My hands were shaking as I pulled my burning-hot phone from my pocket. Only after a long while did I finally call Vito Moretti. When he rejected my call, I sent him a text instead. 【I probably won’t make it out of this one. Vito, what a shame that we won’t get to grow old together.】 As I stared at the chaos outside the car window, I was strangely calm. The driver managed to avert disaster, and after I escaped the accident unharmed, I saw that Vito had posted my text on his social media. A group of his Mafia brothers flooded the comments, calling me dramatic and accusing me of seeking attention. I calmly liked his post and uploaded one of my own. “After narrowly escaping death, maybe my luck is finally about to change.” His brothers immediately swarmed the comments under my post, mocking me one after another. “Oh, weren’t you almost dead? Looks like you’ve got quite the life in you.” “Serafina, did you know Vito was with Mia tonight and deliberately choose this moment to cause a scene? Who exactly are you trying to disgust?” “Why couldn’t you be the one having the anxiety attack?! A woman who stays by the Don’s side and still gets jealous of a young girl. Aren’t you ashamed of yourself?”

After five years by Leonardo Rizzo's side through bloodshed and gunfire, I had finally made it to our wedding day. In those five years, my surgical skill had earned me a reputation throughout Chicago. I had saved Leonardo more times than I could count. But as I stood at the altar in my wedding dress, he walked straight past me and slipped my ring onto his adopted sister Julia Rizzo's finger. My whole body went rigid. Leonardo looked back at me. There was a hint of apology in his voice, but he made no move to take back the ring. "Baby, when Julia and I were children, I promised she'd be my bride at my first wedding. As the Don of the Rizzo family, I can't break a promise. You'll understand, won't you?" Julia smiled and chimed in, "Sofia, we made this promise ten years before you came into his life. Every elder in the family witnessed it. Besides, this is Leonardo's first wedding. He needs a practice run. I'm just helping him rehearse. You understand, don't you?" They exchanged a smile. Suddenly, everything I'd fought for these past five years meant nothing. I tore off my veil and stepped down from the altar. If I had never been his first choice, then I was done with him for good.

At thirty weeks pregnant, I had just left a prenatal appointment when a Porsche struck me and threw me across the pavement. Blood spread beneath my dress. My daughter kicked frantically, then began to weaken. I begged someone to call an ambulance, but the woman who had hit me remained behind the wheel, calmly touching up her lipstick before making a call. “Dante, I’m in trouble. A pregnant woman stepped in front of my car, and now everyone is blaming me.” “Stay inside. I’ll send someone.” Three minutes later, two black SUVs blocked the street. Six Valenti guards surrounded me and stopped the arriving ambulance. “She may be bleeding internally,” a paramedic warned. “We need to examine her now.” Their leader remained unmoved. “Don Valenti’s orders. No one leaves until we determine what happened.” I tried to reach the paramedics, but two guards dragged me back. The woman finally stepped out and glanced at my blood-soaked dress. “She looks fine. She’s only making a scene to extort us.” “Don’t be afraid,” Dante replied through her phone. “I’ll handle her.” My entire body went cold. I could no longer feel my daughter moving. Clutching my stomach, I screamed the name of the only man who could call off the guards. “Dante Valenti! It’s me!” Another wave of pain tore through me. “Camilla hit your wife. Our daughter is dying!”

I've had one fatal flaw my whole life. I can't find my way anywhere. Not just bad with directions. The second I leave somewhere familiar, I can't tell north from south. I could walk through an intersection, turn around, and be completely lost. My best friend Irene, my brother Victor, and my fiancé Alex decided this needed fixing. They called it "survival training." They'd swap out my driver at underground auctions. Disappear while I was checking cargo at the docks. Leave me stranded in places I'd never been, then tell me with straight faces it was all for my own good. I got used to it. But today, they went too far. I stepped into the restroom for a few minutes. When I came back, the private dining room was empty. Glasses cleared, plates gone, even my coat taken. Alex told me this was a secure family zone and took my phone for safekeeping. The waiter handed me a black envelope. One sheet of paper inside. [You've walked these streets with us three times. You should know them by now.] [If you can't even find your way from here, how will you ever be the Donna of the Grey family?] I stared at that last line, and for the first time, I didn't feel like chasing after them. So what if I can't find my way? Every street in New York is our family's territory. If I can't get home, someone will come find me.

Three nights before my wedding, our families played a “lucky key” game. Each woman drew a key to one of the gift cases. Everyone said the assignments were random. My key opened an empty case. Inside was a single card. THANK YOU FOR PLAYING. My fiancé, Damian Valenti, touched my shoulder. “Your luck has always been terrible.” My childhood friend, Luca Ferraro, lowered his voice. “Smile. Don’t let everyone think you’re a sore loser.” My half sister, Sienna, drew the grand prize. Her case held a vintage Valenti brooch, the Mediterranean vacation I had spent months planning, and a card Luca had written himself. Whatever happens, we will always protect you. I smiled for the photographs and returned my card to the empty case. It was only a game. Someone had to lose. Then I passed the club office and heard the coordinator checking the list. “Grand prize for Miss Sienna Russo. Empty case for Miss Alessandra Russo. Mr. Valenti, were those the correct assignments?” Damian paused. “Yes. Sienna would have cried if she had drawn the empty case. Alessandra can handle disappointment.” Luca laughed. “She always does. She’ll find a graceful way to explain it.” They had rigged the game because Sienna’s tears were inconvenient, while my disappointment was easy to ignore. I smiled, walked away, and decided to cancel the wedding scheduled for three days later. They could keep their rigged game. I was done playing.

The day Nathan's company went public, he came to the Bennett estate exactly as we'd agreed. Everyone assumed he was finally going to marry me. But the fiancée he brought with him was Vanessa. "I run a public company now. I need a wife who can stand beside me in front of a camera. "Vanessa is the Bennett heir, and she runs her own charity foundation. She's a better fit for the role than you are." He placed the keys to a Manhattan apartment in front of me. "After all these years together, I'm not going to leave you with nothing." He had no idea. Vanessa was just the baby the Bennett family had mistakenly taken home twenty-two years ago. I was the one they'd found and brought back. The real Bennett daughter and the sole legal heir to the Bennett name. I pushed the keys away and told him I'd already said yes to someone else's proposal. But Nathan assumed I was sulking. "Stop acting tough, baby. Who else is ever going to want you? "After Vanessa and I get married, I'll send a car for you." Sure enough, three days later, his driver was waiting outside the Bennett estate. Too bad. By then I was already Mrs. Cross. And that same morning, my husband had taken control of the entire Cross Group.

The Moretti family had one unwritten rule. To officially take the reigning Donna’s place, the Don’s new lover had to command her three times publicly—and be obeyed without question. The day Raffaele Moretti brought Gianna into the council chamber, she gave me her first order. “Take off your wedding ring and put it on my finger.” The entire family waited for me to lose my mind. After all, I had fought at Raffaele’s side through eight years of bloodshed and helped the family’s bastard son become its Don. Everyone was certain I would never bow to Gianna. But without a word, I slipped off the ring and slid it onto her finger as every capo watched. Raffaele leaned back in his chair at the head of the table, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes. “Sofia, you’ve finally learned to obey. It’s good to see you understand your place.” I lowered my gaze and said nothing. What Raffaele didn’t know was that my memories had returned a month ago. I was the long-lost sole heir to the De Luca family, the most powerful of Sicily’s Five Families. In three days, my family was coming to take me home.

The Cecil family has a century-old rule: on the day a daughter marries, her father gives her a list. It lists the names of twelve bodyguards her father has trained for her since she was a child. They will serve the bride for life as her last line of defense in her husband's household. My twin sister Valentina and I married on the same day. At the ceremony, she held the contract, which was covered in red handprints. Our father patted her shoulder. "I chose every one of them for you. If anyone mistreats my darling girl, these men will make them pay." Our mother beamed. "Valentina will always be the treasure of our family." All I received was a single flimsy, worthless sheet of paper. It didn't even bear a seal. "Father, where is my list?" His gaze darted away for a moment. Then he looked back at me, his expression brazen and self-righteous. "Your sister is marrying Don Moretti's oldest son. The Moretti family is one of Sicily's most powerful Mafia families. Of course she needs more men. "I added your twelve men to her list. She needs twenty-four guards to make sure no one looks down on the Cecil family." Our mother backed him up. "The outsider you're marrying can't even fire a gun. Why would you need bodyguards? Stop thinking only of yourself." I looked at the worthless sheet of paper and smiled bitterly. In their eyes, I was nothing more than a disposable pawn.