The Mafia's Forgotten Wife: Pregnant And Abandoned Novel Novels & Stories

**** "Many years ago, I was living in a small village. I studied well to get a good job. I was in love with a boy who was living in the same village like mine. My family didn't agree with that marriage. I ran away with that boy. We didn't have much money, so he accepted the job offered by your father. Our life was going happily. I found a job of the receptionist at the hotel. After a few months, we learn that I was pregnant. How much happy we were. But the happiness didn't live longer. I wasn't aware that he was working for the mafia. I was returning from the job and I have seen him running away. I asked to stop the auto and I stepped out following him. I ran behind him.

Maybe a drink would help me calm my nerves, but then I realise that I need a clear mind for what is to happen. “No, thank you,” I reply, my voice barely above a whisper. The woman simply nods at me before turning to walk away. As she leaves, I sit quietly, waiting patiently as I listen to the fire crackle softly, filling the silence. I remain perfectly still, afraid that if I move too much, I will betray how unprepared I feel. This is a mansion. I am here to meet the man I agreed to marry... a complete stranger. All because my mother is dying...

This family has become mine. “Just give me my son, Leo.” “Your name was on the web. We had no idea who wanted you dead. The mafia law prevents anyone from killing a pregnant woman. I did what I had to do, Niki.” “It was not your decision to make!” I can’t believe this man! “I love you, I always did. You would have never gone with my plan. I did what I had to,Niki.” “Shut up! I don’t want to hear it,” I cover my ears and yell at him.

That was hilarious. "Oh, it belongs to the family all right." I replied with a harsh chuckle. "This is an old mafia safehouse. Has been for years. And all the neighbors? That nice couple we went to visit? Retired mafia. In fact, everybody here is retired mafia. Why do you think we're so safe here? How does it have everything we need?" How could my wife still be so innocent? After everything she'd seen, everything she experienced? How could she not know?

For those who know that sometimes, the greatest kind of love isn’t loud or perfect. It’s the kind that stays. The kind that fights. The kind that waits. From my pen to your heart. Thank you for trusting me with your time, your tears, and your hope. Always writing for you ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Copyright & Disclaimer © Ernest Brooks. All rights reserved. The Billionaire’s Forgotten Wife is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and settings are either the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons (living or dead), real-life events, or experiences is purely coin

She laughed, I could feel her husband staring down at her like she was the sun itself and no other stars could exist where she shined. “I've been looking forward to meeting you." She said happily. I stared on in worry. I've never seen any soul born and raised in the Mafia world look so happy and pure. It was unnerving. Almost like Rino could feel it, he pulled me closer into him. I watched as her husband's hooded gaze followed Rino's movement and then he whispered something into his wife's ears and she blinked before nodding softly. She looked like she was holding back from pulling me into another hug.

“Can’t I just… be normal? Fall in love without it becoming some twisted loyalty test?” River’s expression softened slightly, but his resolve remained firm. “You were born into this life, sweetheart. Normal was never an option for you.” Tiffany’s hands clenched into fists, her nails digging into her palms. She felt torn in two – the dutiful daughter raised in a world of power and danger, and the young woman who just wanted to follow her heart. “And what if I don’t want to join the Mafia?” she asked, her voice barely audible. “What then?”

​I poured a glass of whiskey and stared at the framed copy of my debut novel sitting on the shelf. Cara Mia. ​Writing it had been my only lifeline during this hellish year. It was supposed to be a catharsis, a way to process the madness of being a mafia lord’s wife. Every page was stained with the truth of us. I wrote about the way he smelled of expensive tobacco and gunpowder, the way his Italian filtered through his lips like a prayer, and the way he looked at me as if I were the only thing in this world worth saving.

In the final moments of his life, he had waited long enough to see the daughter he loved most. Don of the Salvaria family had countless mistresses. Being born into a mafia family had taught him to regard kinship as a cheap nuisance. Children born to mistresses would only become his subordinates, tools to keep the vast criminal machine of the family running. That was until he met a petite young woman on a stormy night. True love was a strange thing. He had never regretted his chaotic life, not until Mary, the child born of his love with his only lawful wife, was believed to have died at sea.

The whispers, once a low hum in the halls of the Moretti villa, became a deafening roar. The news, a venomous piece of gossip that traveled faster than any encrypted message, had been leaked to the entire Mafia network. Amara was pregnant. The Queen, the cold, ruthless strategist who had brought an empire to its knees, was carrying a child. The shock was palpable, the implications devastating. The fire of her vengeance, they reasoned, had been doused, replaced by a vulnerability they could exploit.