Calavera: The Mafia's Caged Bride Mga Nobela at Kwento

he drawled like that was a sane thing to say. I should be scared, and I was. The last time I was in the presence of these men, they didn't look and feel as hard as they do now. They were nobodies. I hoped they wouldn't recognize me. “You're the bride?”, Xiomar asked. I nodded, remembering that Mafia men loved a quiet woman. “You look oddly familiar. My gown covered my thighs luckily, as I knelt next to my brother's body. I could hear a drum, one I quickly recognized was my heart beat. They wouldn't notice.

With a sigh, I look to my friends also standing by the altar, who are clearly oblivious to what just played out as they're grinning so much, I wonder if it hurts. The gown's exquisite train trails behind me, creating a mesmerizing effect before I get to the altar. Dad places my right hand on Ivan's then leaves to join the huge congregation who I'm now just noticing. I don't know up to quarter of the people here but it doesn't take much to know that ninety percent of them belong to the mafia. I turn to face the priest as the ceremony commences. In no time, we're saying our wedding vows while exchanging rings.

Father looked defeated. Alejandro directed his gun to one of the Mexicans. “We’re outnumbered son” uncle Tee said Father’s security detail had been compromised, a few of his guards lay dead on the floor, the remaining held at gun point by the Mexicans. “Zak is the new Mexican mafia boss, and the only way they will forgive you for killing Salvador is if you agree to marry him.” Uncle Tee Said “And if I refuse?” I said as tears clouded my eyes, my blurry vision landing on the explosive device, 17:38, it read.

Mikhail rose, his posture immaculate, eyes sweeping over the congregation. Thunderous applause erupted, filling the hall with a deafening roar. Mikhail’s expression remained stoic, but a flicker of pride crossed his features. He turned to face the crowd, voice echoing and commanding every corner of the hall. "It is now official. I, Mikhail Morozov, am the Pakhan of the Bratva's empire, and my beautiful wife beside me is my Pakhanesa, the first ever Bratva female leader in our history." The crowd’s applause swelled again, louder this time, almost like the walls themselves were cheering. Donatella smiled, radiant in a crimson gown that flowed like liquid fire, her hair styled perfectly — regal

“And you have something I want.” My throat tightened. “Your daughter?” “Yes.” I stared at the desk, the polished wood reflecting the low light. “You’re asking me to hand over my wife? You signed her over to me, surely you've not forgotten our deal.” “I’m asking for what’s mine,” Rivera said. “Celeste doesn’t belong in your world, De Luca. You know that. She’s soft, good. You’ll ruin her.” “You stupid man.” I said evenly. He ignored that. “You bring her to the port in Palermo tomorrow night. Alone. I’ll return Alessia unharmed.”

The reception was meant to take place in the Fernendez mansion. Once the wedding ceremony had concluded, they walked down the aisle together in the midst of everyone's applause. They walked out of the church and into the limo waiting for them. Seeing that they were both in the car, the driver nodded and drove away. Now she was left alone with Jose Fernandez, the most ruthless man in the mafia; one wrong breath taken could make him take her life. She dared not to talk or even breathe wrongly.

"Do you, Marco fucking Powell, take me, Dante Russo, to be your husband… in sickness… and in health?" I clawed at his wrist, panic hurrying me as black spots spun in front of my eyes. "Yes!" I wheezed. "Yes, I do!" His hand loosened, and I pitched forward, sucking in air like I'd been drowning. The officiant didn't flinch. What the hell was this place? I barely had time to recover before the man said, "You may now kiss the bride." My head jerked up, eyes wide. "The what—"

The ceremony was about to begin. I took a slow breath, trying to calm my heart that felt like it might explode. This was really happening. This marriage was truly happening. I, Lucia the fat bride, was going to marry Alexandro De Luca, the handsome mafia man who bound me with a contract marriage.

Uhm Lucian" I said, instead he held his fingers up, signalling me to jt shut, I obeyed not because I wanted to but I just made a promise " Mom and dad got married, she was the first mafia wife, and Dad loved her so much, growing as a child and an heir, I was never treated as one, but one day a war broke out, between my family and and another after dad killed the only daughter of the most feared leader of the local mafia.

Word spread fast. Vera and Luca's engagement lit up the entire underworld. Every mafia family got an invite. The day of the banquet, the Lombardo estate was done up to the nines. Vera stood beside Luca in a custom gown, the emerald brooch pinned at her chest, glowing. Impossible to miss. Guests poured in one after another. Then the entrance stirred. Carlo Quaranta had arrived—with a gift. The room went still. Everyone knew the history. Vera—the Quaranta adoptee who'd once loved her brother. Carlo—the one who chose Gina, kicked Vera out, then lost his mind with regret and blood-soaked revenge afterward. None of it was a secret.