My Broke Husband Was The Mafia Don Novels & Stories

Rod said. "There's something you need to know, Rod," I said to him. "What is it? Why does someone want you dead? Do you have enemies?" he asked. "My husband is a very dangerous person. He was a ruthless, merciless mafia boss who foughts for everything lethal and illegal just to get home to his lovely wife and make love to her to wash all the tiredness and worries away," I explained and his eyes narrowed, he was listening to me very carefully.

"Incredible! I don't need you as my friend, I know you all...all of you are a bunch of liars and want to manipulate me." “Is that what you really think, Abby?” she ask. I didn't answer her, I just kept eating, and when I was done, she was still looking at me and smiled warmly. "I know it's not easy to be married to a ruthless Don Mafia... But did you know that not everyone knows he's in the mafia? He's a respected Billionaire in the country. You should be very happy and feel so lucky that he chose you in a heartbeat to be his wife."

He was about to punch me when he stopped and became pale and weaker. The knife I used was small but, it had a deadly poison. "Goodbye, dog of a mafia org." I'm a killer, yeah, I'm not just an ordinary model. I hate Mafia the most. I love killing them. ------- "Wifey, awake, awake!" I woke up when Warren jumped on our bed. "What's the matter Warren?" I asked sleepily. He lay down next to me and moved his foot. "You have a male visitor. His name is Yuhan." He said while pouting.

My knees ached from kneeling on the cold ground for so long, but the pain was nothing compared to the emptiness his sudden death had left in my heart. As I closed my eyes and ran my fingers lightly over his tomb, a part of me clung to the impossible hope that he would respond—that he would reach out, just as he always did, and gently pull me into his arms, lulling me to sleep like before. But the silence was deafening, and the cold stone beneath my touch only reminded me of the cruel reality—Lorenzo Russo—my husband, the powerful mafia don whose double life I barely understood—is gone. I felt someone gently pulling me by the shoulder. But, I remain rooted in my spot.

he said worriedly. "It is already too late. The damage is already done," I said as I took my phone and my car keys then walked out but without banging the door not caring whether I would break it. I saw that he was already in his clothes. That was quick but it won't hinder me from leaving. I walked hurriedly downstairs with him trailing behind me and yelling out my name. By the time we got downstairs, all of his family and Maria were present. They are so nosy to be a mafia leader family.

"I am Caius Falcieri. I just want to speak to my wife." The Falcieri name still carried immense weight in the European underworld. The guards looked at each other, hesitant to act. "Continue the auction," I said, my voice cutting through the silence. "We don't stop for irrelevant interruptions." "Irrelevant?" The word seemed to hit him like a physical blow. He stumbled forward. "Alessia, I'm your husband." "No," my voice was like ice. "You are the Don of the Falcieri family. Nothing more."

“I do remember telling you not to regret your decision? I told you I didn’t want this marriage. Now, see where it got me. I can’t back out now.” “I know, baby,” Mamma said, tears in her eyes. “And I regret it every single day. You don’t have to live with him anymore”. “She will have to go back,” Papà said as he walked into the room. Mamma spun around to face him. “What are you talking about? Did you not see what he did to your daughter?” “She fainted from stress. Stop acting like he pulled the trigger on her,”. he replied coldly. You’ve been married for a month, what will people say when they learn you went back to your Parents house?.

Instead, his eyes burned into mine, cold and unyielding. "I did what I had to do," he said simply. "What do you have to do?" I repeated, my voice trembling with disbelief. "You think that justifies it? You think that makes it okay?" He stepped closer, his towering presence swallowing the space between us. "He betrayed me, Adeline. If I did not handle him, he was going to put us all in trouble." “Did you for a moment pause to think that things are different now? That you have your children in this house too”

"I won't marry her." "You have no choice," Lorenzo said firmly. "I do!" Henson roared, sweeping an antique vase off the coffee table. The ceramic shattered, the pieces scattering across the marble floor. It was a five-generation heirloom, priceless, now reduced to fragments. "My only wife is Aurelia," he shouted, pointing at Lorenzo, his voice shaking. "None of you gets to decide my life." Lorenzo looked at the broken pieces, his face growing darker. He scoffed. "Decide your life? Henson, do you know what you're saying?"

"As the Miss commands." Marco finally understood. "No! You can't! That's my inheritance! I'm the heir!" he screamed. "You can't give my money away! What will I eat? How am I supposed to support this woman with her rotten face?!" I walked over to him and crouched down, smiling into his broken eyes. "This is just the beginning of your punishment, my dear Marco." "You're not mafia anymore. You're not even a memory. You're nothing. Just a crippled husband and his broken wife, left to rot in some gutter."