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There's No Afterlife for Love

There's No Afterlife for Love

I've been married to Salvatore Falcone for seven years. He's a mafia Don who drills raw terror into everyone's minds. While I'm the Donna whom he has announced to the world, in truth, I'm just a mistress who serves as his human shield that can warm his bed on the side. Salvatore has betrayed me countless times over the past seven years. The first betrayal occurred when he took my ring off on our first wedding anniversary and gave it to one of the escorts in the clubhouse on a whim. The second betrayal occurred when I collapsed in the kitchen out of exhaustion. Instead of saving me, Salvatore blamed me for not preparing the hangover tonic for him in time, so he had someone dump iced water onto me to wake me up. The third betrayal occurred when I suffered from massive bleeding when I was five months pregnant. When I begged Salvatore to go to the hospital with me, he told me that he was keeping Valentina Caruso, his childhood sweetheart, company while her cat was getting fixed. For 2500 days, I swallowed all of my grievances, agony, and tears. Last night, at the banquet of our seventh wedding anniversary, Salvatore had taken Valentina's hand and sat her down on the Donna's throne that was meant to be mine. At that moment, everyone looked forward to seeing me humiliate myself. This was the 101st time he betrayed me. After the banquet was over, Salvatore didn't even bother looking me in the eye. He just said icily, "Don't forget that you're only a mistress to me despite our marriage." At the crack of dawn, Salvatore wakes up with a hangover. He tosses his soiled shirt at me out of habit. "Wash this shirt immediately. I'm going to wear it tonight." As I gaze at him, I caress my belly, which is slightly swollen. "Sorry, Mr. Falcone. This is no longer my duty." Salvatore most likely has forgotten that we've signed a contract when we first got married. The clause states that we will get divorced seven years later. Today is the third day before our contract comes to an end. I toss the marriage certificate and the pregnancy report into the shredder on the spot. In three days, my unborn baby and I will disappear from Salvatore's world permanently. This time, I will never look back.
Short Story · Mafia
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Once They Chose Her, I Chose Myself

Once They Chose Her, I Chose Myself

On the night my family got wiped out, someone had hidden me behind the barrels inside the wine cellar. The gunshots kept going off the entire night outside the cellar. I could only curl up between the barrels while listening to unfamiliar voices cursing in Etarino. All I could do was gnash my teeth together in order to not make any sounds. At the break of dawn, the wine cellar's door was opened from the outside. Two people could be seen standing in front of the pouring light. The first person was Antonio Corleone, a 15-year-old teenager who was also the oldest son of the Corleone family. He was still holding a gun, which had smoke wafting from its barrel. The second person was Matteo Corleone, Antonio's younger brother. His clothes were stained with blood that didn't belong to him. Antonio crouched down before draping a coat over my body. "Don't be scared, Elena," he said. "From today onward, I'm your family." Matteo squeezed Antonio away before stuffing a warm slice of panettone into my hands. With red-rimmed eyes, he said, "My brother is right. I'll kill whoever has the guts to hurt you." It was Christmas Day of 1999. Back then, I was ten years old. For the next 20 years, I grew up in the estate located in Vosaro and became an essential part of the Corleone family. At the same time, I also grew up to be the woman both Antonio and Matteo have a crush on. The entire family has noticed their obsession and love for me. Antonio and Matteo help me exact vengeance on the people who killed my family. They even buy a football team and name it after me. Everyone thinks that the brothers are head over heels in love with me. They patiently wait for the news when one of them will marry me. Even I also think the same. But on the night before my 30th birthday, when Don Corleone asks the brothers who among them wishes to marry me, Antonio snuffs out the cigar in a crystal ashtray. "Father, you should know that I'm terribly busy with the family's affairs, so I have no time to marry anyone." Matteo swirls the whiskey in his glass while wearing a flippant smile. "Father, I'm only 33 years old, and I'm not done having fun just yet. Besides, marrying Elena is just a joking promise that I've made when I was young. I'm not going to follow through with it." The next day, the brothers decide to propose to my enemy's daughter, Sophia Volpe, at my birthday banquet which I have painstakingly prepared. They even force me to drink the entire bottle of grappa despite the fact that I've been suffering from stomach issues for ten years just to please Sophia. When I get carted into the ambulance after suffering from stomach bleeding, Antonio and Matteo immediately cover Sophia's eyes with their hands while claiming that I'm just faking my illness. The moment I feel blood rising from my throat, I've made up my mind. On the day I'm set to get discharged, I dial a phone number. "I will get married to the heir of the Rossi family."
Short Story · Mafia
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