My Broke Husband Was The Mafia Don Novels & Stories

“Jesus Christ. Don't tell me this is why you ran away from me. You left everything behind just to come to Italy and marry a man who sells drugs and kills people for sport?” My stomach tightened. “You don't know anything about him.” “You’re damn right, I don’t.” He shook his head, his expression twisting with disbelief. “I've never even heard of this Zayden Romano until a week ago, and suddenly I'm getting my ass kicked because of you and your fucking mafia husband.” “Don’t talk about him like that,” I said. “But I’m sorry, you didn't do anything to deserve being beaten like that.” “Then why the fuck did it happen?” He snapped.

"Then take it to the Don. Family rules." His jaw clenched, but that fake tough guy look stayed plastered on. "What, you wanna settle this in secret?" I dropped the pen, stared him down. "You forget who you married? I'm not some deli guy's kid." "This was a mafia deal from the jump," Sofia chimed in, smirking. "If you're tapping out, better get the Don's blessing." Damon gulped. Sweat slid down his face. Yeah, he hadn't thought this through.

His voice was low and gentle. "Ms. Bianchi, I heard from my business partner that you need help." He arranged everything methodically, unlike Marco, who always made me fight for everything desperately. Only later did I learn that this man was the newly risen mafia Don, Leon Costa. Unfortunately, although the surgery succeeded, Mom still died. "I'm very sorry, but Sofia didn't make it through. I've already dealt with the negligent staff." He held me as I cried until I couldn't breathe, comforting me by saying that my kidney could accompany Mom in eternal rest, and she would be comforted in heaven. Only then did my busy fiance remember me and call back.

He gave a low laugh, as if I had said something amusing. “Still stubborn.” His eyes dropped to the obsidian crest on my coat, but recognition did not reach him. “I suppose life outside the Crane family has taught you something by now. No matter how much you complained before, at least you were Mrs. Crane. What are you now? A nanny with a borrowed brooch?” “We’re divorced.” “That doesn’t change the fact that you were my wife.” Sebastian’s voice cooled. “When people mention you, they still think of the Crane name. Showing up here as hired help for the Bellandis makes me look ridiculous.”

I was so sure I was a goner, but then I blinked open my eyes to the sterile white of a hospital room. "Awake?" came a voice, deep and seething with anger, next to me. Turning my head was a struggle, but I managed, only to wish I had not. There he was, Don, the mafia boss–my so-called husband, Nolan Winston. Nolan's face was like stone, but his voice dripped with mockery. "Sophia Wood, you're a mafia Donna, yet you jumped into the sea just for a little sympathy? You've made a mockery of the Winston name."

Marco stood to the side, lighting a cigarette, and coldly ordered the doctor: "No anesthesia. Teach her a lesson. Get rid of it immediately." The cold metal instruments touched my skin, and despair almost drowned me. Just then— Bang! The doors to the operating room were kicked open. Two large men in black suits rushed in, instantly taking down the doctor and nurses. Immediately after, an elderly man with gray hair but a sharp, vigorous presence walked in. It was Luca, the Don's most trusted Consigliere. "I dare anyone to touch her!" Luca’s voice wasn't loud, but it carried an undeniable authority. Marco froze, then frowned. "Uncle Luca? Did my father send you? Tell Father this is a family ma

Even when I was cornered, even when a gun was pointed at my head, he still thought I was just being a jealous woman. In his heart, that "fragile" Sophia was ten thousand times more important than my life, than the Corleone ancestral home, than the glory of this place. "Signora..." Old Rossi looked at me, his cloudy eyes full of despair. "Is the Don not sending anyone?" The gunfire downstairs was closing in on the stairwell. I took a deep breath and wiped away the single tear that hadn't yet fallen. When I opened my eyes again, I might not have been Lorenzo's wife anymore, but I was still the daughter of the old Godfather.

Dinner began badly and got worse. My father talked. He talked about the shipping routes, and a harbour dispute that had cost him a warehouse, and a banker he called a dear old friend who had not returned his calls in a month. He talked about the Lawrence name the way other men talked about a cathedral: with admiration, and a faint note of fear that the roof might come down on them. Elias ate his soup and said very little. When my father paused for breath, Elias turned his spoon over, placed it neatly on the plate, and said, "You're nervous, Constantine." "I am not nervous."

I haven't really accepted the fact I had a husband, I was betrothed to someone I never knew or thought existed. A big part of me didn't like all this, but I was being treated well here. Like a queen, Armani Dante De' Luca was my husband, I find that very hard to believe. With the little information I tried finding, I found out he was the richest Mafia lord, let's not talk about the fact that he is was the most feared Mafia lord. I heard he was very brutal in his doings and doesn't show mercy.

She was about to cross the line from being tipsy to being really fucking wasted. "You're a bad man," she pouted. "How so?" I leaned forward, actually curious about what she had to say. She closed her eyes, humming. "You're in the mafia. You run the mafia. You kill people. You hurt them. You make money off of their suffering." "It's just a job. Nothing personal. And besides, you're a member of the mafia too." She scoffed. "Only because I'm married to you. My family has never engaged me in their..." she scratched her head, trying to find the words, "...activities. "