Calavera: The Mafia's Caged Bride Novels & Stories

She would be his queen, and their children would grow up strong and powerful. Asher, one of her dad’s men, held out his hand. Larissa placed hers in his. He looked at her for a moment, and when she nodded, he gave the signal. The big church doors opened with a loud creak, and everyone turned to see the bride. Larissa, the mafia princess, walked down the aisle. Her head was held high, and a tiny smile played on her lips. Everyone wished they could be her. Not even in their wildest dreams.

The birds didn’t know someone was about to bleed. Olive didn’t speak at first. Just handed her the page. Val took it carefully, unfolded it, read. It was a leaked “sample” page from the in-development docuseries script. Not from Alecia’s hand—clearly some writer’s early draft. But the lines stung anyway. > “VALENTINA, late 20s, flawless, calculating, offers herself to the mafia heir not out of love, but strategy. Her eyes are sharp, unfeeling—she knows what marrying him means. Power. Safety. Escape. Betrayal disguised as sacrifice.”

“You said it was urgent Nina, what about it?” “Well,” I drawled. “There's some bad news Javier. I know that the initial agreement was that I would marry Alceo and then we would finish him off, so you get to be the one in control of the Russian mafia too. And then then I get to rule beside you as your wife.” “So,” he looked at me closely, piercing me with his gaze. “Alceo has been dethroned by the elders of the house. And power has been given to his brother Uri,” I stammered at my last words, hoping that he wouldn't do something irrational to me.

"Ms. Manuela Iriz Ibañez, do you take Mr. Uno Juaquin Urquio to be your lawfully wedded husband, for better or for worse, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?" The priest's words hung heavy, a prelude to a life irrevocably altered. Manuela, her heart a captive bird, knew this wasn't a choice, but a desperate gamble for her brother's freedom. A chilling bargain struck with the enigmatic Uno Juaquin Urquio, a mafia boss whose icy gaze held both danger and a strange, intoxicating allure.

Father was at his chair and looking outside. “You wanted to see me Papa?” I tried to hide the fear in my voice. “Luna, sit down.” Oh God I’m so nervous. “Luna, I know you are aware of the feud between the Castelvetrano and the Genovese. You have that scar as a reminder of their treachery. But now I want to settle the matters. The Russians have started to wage war here in the US. Giovanni and I have agreed to let you marry his eldest son, Primo, so there would be peace between our two clans. This alliance will allow us to stop the Bratva.” I was in shock.

he growled, his nostrils flaring. "And you have no idea whose wife you are messing with. I am a Morelli, the wife of the Capo dei Capi of the Italian mafia. I have seen Dante kill and believe me, it is more gory than you can imagine. That man faces death like he has a second life. He killed all your assassins and cohorts that were sent to harm us in Mexico. Dante is blood thirsty and once he finds me, he will kill you all" I taunted them amidst my pain.

He nodded. “Yes…i have learnt to trust no one Lucia or else whatever i say can be used against me, either to kill me or to render me useless in the mafia world” My mouth fell open. “I…i…i don’t know what to say” I let out a stammer. To be honest, nothing about this made sense to me. How does a person's sexuality relate to leading a mafia clan? I just couldn’t get it. How were they still comfortable ruling traditionally? weren’t they ready to evolve? It’s the 21st century for goodness sake. They should throw their arcaic rulership in the fucking bin and take up modernity.

he added, though it didn’t soften the edge in his tone. She didn’t ask if Viviana knew about her marriage. She didn’t need to. Of course she knew. Word traveled fast through the underworld, especially when it was dressed as scandal. Leora, daughter of Salvatore D’Amato, married to Don Allerick Voss—the crippled king in a throne of blood and iron. It would’ve made Viviana laugh once. Now it would make her aim. Leora dropped into the leather chair nearest her, her knees finally demanding a reprieve. “This changes everything.”

Tonight, I wasn’t Cristiano Morano, the billionaire mafia don. I wasn’t Cristiano Morano, the dying man. I was Cristiano Morano, the man who would burn the world down for Annalisa, his wife.

I don't care if the streets run red with the blood of our allies. I want my Siren back. And I want the boy she took from me. I am the Calavera. And the Skull does not forget. I drink the rest of my whiskey and wait for the silence to return. One traitor down. A thousand more to go before I reach her. But I have time. I have all the time in the world.