The Mafia's Forgotten Wife Novels & Stories

Zara Howard It all happened so quickly, anyone could barely process how our living room turned into a gangster scene from a movie. A drunkard gambler who borrowed too much money from the Mafia and had nothing to offer except for empty promises when it was pay up time. Only difference was this time the drunkard was my stepfather, Chad Hudson and the Mafia was Asher Lancaster, the powerful mob boss, who brought with him 6-7 terrifying armed men. My mother was tightly gripping onto my arm as she tried to drag me and my older sister, Scarlett farther away from them. My eyes, however, were fixated on the scene unfolding right in front of me.

A sign that Hazel's journey was over. Although the entrance and exit gates loomed large in front of her eyes, it didn't occur to Hazel to go any further. She didn't want to put her life at risk. Once she heard of a friend who tried to escape, the same day he returned in the form of a dead body. Every person in the main house was planted with tracking chips so there was no escape for them, including Hazel. She realized that her entire life was dedicated to serving a mafia that she had never even met in person. "It's quite cold this morning," Hazel said as she tightened her white coat.

If it were someone more important, there might be a more precise investigation. She threw herself into the armchair, again using a marijuana cigarette. She was thin and pale. Her hair was badly treated, anyone who watched her would think it was a wanderer living on the street. Her friends called her, but no answer. The girl did not want the company or contact with anyone. If no one could do for her, she herself would make her own investigation. And that lasted for years. Three years ago, she heard that Mafia Dom’s wife, Giovanni Mancini, had been killed.

If what kind of a mistake have I ever done in order for him just to hide me as a wife, but until now the answer remains blank. I was back in my sense when his door suddenly opened. He stood and stared at me seriously while wearing nothing other than his boxer shorts. I immediately took my eyes off of him and then continued walking. Even before I could get away I heard him call his men and ordered to dispatch the woman he had slept with. I laughed softly as I walked down the stairs. Yes, it is also not new to me to hear such a command from him. He is a mafia boss after all, a ruthless one. And I, Jazzie Zamora, am his wife.

I picked up my phone and texted Pedro. Alejandro: Get in here now! Take the woman to the warehouse and wait for me. Pedro and Diego entered the room and I gave a slight nod at the woman. Quickly, they grabbed one arm each and began to pull her away then she snapped at us, " Let me go! Do you know who my husband is? He'll have your guts for garters!" Pedro rolled his eyes and they were closer to exiting the room. " Yeah lady. Sure, sure. " He opened the door when she pulled her hand out of Diego's grasp and a bracelet she had been wearing fell on the floor and rolled, landing at my feet. I knelt down and picked it up and studied it. I recognized the markings on it right away. It belonged to o

The girl he knew as a hater of violence turned herself into a Mafia queen itself. In the past one year he heard a lot about Myra and her involvement with the underworld, but today only he saw the truth through his naked eyes. His wedded wife was standing across the large table. But the distance felt like miles for them. None of them could cross the distance to reach each other’s embrace.

I remember a particular story of his fellow rival mafia who refused to obey him. The mafia lord had gone and conquered his domain. He killed the man and took his wife as his plaything. As the story goes, the woman later took her own life when she could not take the abuse and torturing she was undergoing in his hands. I had thought them to be fairy tales and midnight jokes that the elders would say to scare us, but seeing this with my own eyes The so-called rumors I had laughed at once were coming to reality. staring at the cage meant for me, I realized something cold and horrifying.

Like intended, her scowl deepens at the use of the title but as though deciding I am not worthy of any emotion she decides to totally ignore it. “A Mahonnas, they say,” she shakes her head slowly, her features displaying her apparent disapproval, “what got into Marco’s head I have no clue.” Here is what I know about Martha Rossellini; She is harsh, cruel, cold – just like her son – and nothing like the mother I grew up with. She spent most of her life deeply rooted in the mafia business with her husband and the gang he created and in the end, when he lost his life, she fled, leaving everything behind including her son and only returning few years ago for reasons known to no one in general.

She looked as alluring as ever, her hair in a long braid down her back, dressed in a flowing dress that made her look more vulnerable and yet, seductive. Piers started forward, his face tight with anger as he said in a low, angry voice, “Sir…Mumma?” The Mafia Don looked him in the eyes and said in a firm voice, “Son, I want to see the wh*re I bedded years ago. I want to make her see the only Woman I have loved; This one.” And he swept his petrified-looking wife into his arms, wrapping a thick, muscled arm around her waist as she clung to him in terror.

He had died for her—Elio—and she didn’t even know it. In the mafia, women don’t betray their husbands and live to tell the tale. The last woman who had dared had been made an example of, her punishment slow and excruciating. Every member of the family had taken their turn until she was barely more than a broken thing. By the time the bullet had kissed her skull, it had been a mercy she welcomed. My men—they had expected me to do the same. They had waited, eager and hungry, for the show. But I hadn’t. And that choice gnawed at me.