Don Delillo Ranked Novels & Stories

The heir to the New York mafia family, the Donovitch crime family, chose me as a potential fiancée candidate. But I refused to become his wife and the future Madre of the Donovitch family. Because in my previous life, he missed the desperate call from his childhood sweetheart on our wedding night. That led to the sweetheart being killed by a Mexican cartel in revenge. He vented all his frustration on me, using sulfuric acid to disfigure me, tearing off my limbs. He tormented me for five long years. Finally, he used the punishment method for a traitor to stuff me into a gasoline barrel and burn me alive. In this life, I will definitely change my destiny. He has a thing for his stepsister, so I'll let them have each other. But this time, that cold and arrogant man ends up crying and begging me to come back.

Eveyln White was used to living a double life - college student by day at the top of her class, mousy and introverted, and a bombshell stripper by night only known as Eve. Things all come to a head when her bouncer boyfriend, Charlie, angers a patron of the club, who turns out to be one of the most dangerous men in the world, Mafia Boss Antonio Bernoti.

To earn a place in the Nostra family, I forge a new identity. The night my lie unravels, Don Nostra looks at me as if I'm dirt at the bottom of his shoe. I press a razor blade to my wrist. "Kick me out of the family, and I'll die right here." "Fine. Since you want to be my wife that badly, I'll give you what you want," Lorenzo Nostra snickered. After that, he brings home woman after woman. He forces me to kneel outside his bedroom door, saying, "Watch and learn. This is how you please your Don." The stinging pain in my knees is nothing compared to the chill in my heart. When he is done, he towers above me. "All this for a title," he says with a sneer. "You really put up with anything." Enduring him becomes the only way I can survive this world. Then, one day, he walks in with a civilian girl named Maria Romano. "Go. Bring her the heirloom Madre left behind," he commanded. This time, I refuse. I turn and walk away, never once looking back. When Lorenzo uncovers the truth, he loses his mind and begs me to come back.

All of Novatia knew that Sophie Rossi was the foster daughter Soren Lucas doted on the most. However, on her 18th birthday, he punished her according to the family's rules. It was because Soren discovered Sophie had stolen his most precious Browning pistol and inserted it into her body. Three years later, Sophie returned with her body covered in wounds. She no longer loved Soren. However, Soren's fiancée, Isabella Johansson, refused to let her off. "You slut! How dare you desire your own Don?!" Sophie tolerated the cursing and beatings, only to discover the horrible truth. She 'committed suicide' by jumping off the cruise ship during Soren's wedding. Soren went crazy as he hugged her corpse.

On the fifth year after marrying Giovanni Santoro, the Don of the Santoro family, he decides to make a public appearance with his mistress, Valentina Conti. He no longer denies the truth behind the romantic scandals. Videos of them that have been taken in secret, as well as salacious gossip featuring the two, are spread like wildfire in New Albion. It's an act of declaring ownership over Giovanni that he himself has silently permitted. There are even busybodies who don't know their place and decide to prod me for answers with smiles on their faces. "Does this mean someone else is going to replace you as the Donna of the family?" That night, the underworld of New Albion secretly goes through a thorough purge. I file for a divorce with Giovanni immediately before marrying his biggest enemy, Franco Messina. After that, the Santoro family goes into bankruptcy. Their power and authority easily crumble into dust. Giovanni kneels before me. With tears running down his face, he begs me for forgiveness. I just smile while waving the divorce agreement in my hand. "Sorry, but we're already divorced."

I am the lawfully wedded wife of Don Jones—the Donna of the Jones Family—and the founding CEO of his medical empire. I stood by Vincent's side as we built it up from a two-room surgical clinic into the crown jewel of European private healthcare. Then, in my eighth month of pregnancy, dying on the operating table, Vincent pulled every surgeon out of my maternity ward for the sake of his mistress. He killed our child with his own hands. He stripped me of the right to ever be a mother. He thought I was a homeless orphan with nowhere to go. He had no idea I was the sole blood heir of the Belmonte Family. After the divorce, I came home to command a global medical empire. He knelt and begged. I watched, cold-eyed, as he fell into hell.

I am the wife of Anthony Caster, don of the mafia family in New York. When I was nine months pregnant, he brought a woman named Evelyn Graves into the manor, claiming she’d saved his life. That was the day my nightmare began. She put something in my food. Next thing I knew, I was doubled over in pain. And she had the nerve to blame it on me—said I was being reckless with what I ate. She lost her footing and fell down the stairs, but she told everyone I was the one who shoved her. Every day, she’d cry in front of Anthony about how saving him had left her wounded and unable to bear children, how seeing a pregnant woman broke her heart. But the moment she turned to me, the tears were gone, replaced by a cold smile. “As long as I’m here,” she whispered, “your babies will never be born.” Anthony was convinced I was jealous of her. He locked me away in the abandoned attic of the manor and said, “Reflect on your actions and stop bullying Evelyn.” On the first day they shut me in, the contractions began. I screamed, I begged, I banged on the door. The butler heard me and went to inform Anthony. He said, “Amelia, your due date is three days away. Stop putting on an act. Three days in a snowstorm and you came out fine. This? You can handle this.” On the second day, my water broke. I screamed at the top of my lungs, my fingernails digging into the cracks of the wall, blood spilling all over the floor. The butler went to Anthony again. Evelyn said, “Anthony, she’s making all that noise because she wants you to feel sorry for her and let her out. If you give in now, she’ll only grow more reckless later.” He believed her. On the third day, I stopped screaming. Anthony thought I had finally learned my lesson, unaware that I had already died from the difficult labor. When he finally opened that door, all he would find was my rotting, putrid body.

When war orphan Alexei Volkov flees Russia to Belgium, survival means stealing scraps until a mob nearly burns him alive. Rescued by Lucien Devereux, the ruthless Capo of Brussels’ underworld, Alexei is thrust into a world of blood, secrets, and power. Trained as an assassin and spy, he becomes indispensable—until a mystical ring from his uncle in India makes every man who sees him fall hopelessly in love. Soon, the Capo, the Mayor, the Police Inspector, and even the Governor crave for him. Is it love or a curse? And in a city drowning in obsession, who will Alexei choose?

The day Lorenzo got kidnapped by a rival family, I found out I was three months pregnant. I took the million dollars his father offered, and I ran. The next time we met, I looked him in the eye and told him I'd been a mole for the rival family the whole time. He was chained up in a cellar, staring at me through the iron bars utterly despairing. He said he'd kill me himself, and then grind my bones to dust. Seven years later, when I saw him again, there was a beautiful woman on his arm. They were getting married. And I was so far down I had to beg him for a loan. He pulled out a thick stack of bills. Lit it on fire right in front of me. He said he'd rather burn it than give it to some whore feeding another man. He didn't know I was begging because my son was dying. His son too.

I'm ten years older than Vincenzo Corleone. He had just turned 23 years old when he took over the Corleone family as the patriarch. A hint of teenage childishness could still be seen etched onto his youthful features. I was the one who held his hand and helped him calm the turbulence of his family affairs. I blocked three assassination attempts that were made on him. I used five years of my life to help him grow from a useless scion into the fearsome don who wielded the utmost authority in Nowork's underworld. Once, Vincenzo had embraced me in the church. He rested his forehead against my palm as he swore, "Age, identity, or the world's viewpoint of us will never stop us from being together, Freya. I will protect you with my life." But after that, he told his older brother, Marco Corleone, "Freya is too old. She's already 38 years old; I can practically smell the rot of age rolling off her. Even the crinkles in her smile disgust me to no end." Some time later, Vincenzo found himself a mistress who bore some resemblance to me. She was young and vibrant—like a white rose who had never experienced the ugly side of society. While Vincenzo gave me the title of the Donna of the Corleone family, he reserved his gentle, doting, and even passionate side for the mistress named Lina Marino. Vincenzo thinks he can pull everything off flawlessly. What he forgets is that the reason why I can establish my reputation in the underworld isn't because of his protection. I've been relying on my ruthlessness and my sharp sixth sense this whole time. When I slam the signed divorce agreement onto the spot before Vincenzo, I say with a smile, "You've fought by my side for so many years, so you should know very well that I can afford to go for high-stakes risks and withdraw my chips whenever needed. "But once I lose, someone here has to pay the price!"