Betrayed By Him: Marrying The Mafia Ghost

I had been locked in a freezing cellar for three days, starving and waiting for my husband, Marco, to save me. Instead, the iron door opened to reveal his mistress holding a toddler with Marco's exact face. Marco wasn't sterile like he had claimed for years. He just wanted my De Luca family trust funds. With my husband watching coldly, his mistress and a corrupt doctor pinned me to the concrete floor. "We're going to carve you up until you're unrecognizable, then throw you in the lake," she laughed. The most chilling part wasn't the affair. It was the realization that my mother-in-law, the mafia matriarch I had served faithfully for three years, had personally signed my death warrant to save their crumbling empire. The scalpel sliced deep into my cheek, permanently destroying my face as warm blood poured down my neck. I had given them everything. I used my family's money to pay off his secret gambling debts and endured endless insults about being a barren wife, only to realize the entire family viewed me as nothing but a pig to be slaughtered for cash. In the suffocating darkness, I didn't pray for mercy. I swore a blood oath. I didn't die in that cellar. Saved by a legendary rival boss, I stood outside the Falcone estate three weeks later. I pushed open the heavy oak doors to my own memorial service, the jagged red scar on my face silencing the hall. "I'm afraid your plans to inherit my estate will have to be postponed," I smiled at my terrified husband.

Chapters

Chapter 4

Isabella POV

I let the silence in the library stretch for a moment longer before turning my attention back to Sofia.

"I apologize for my cousin's... abrupt departure," Sofia murmured, her sharp eyes studying me with a newfound intensity.

I offered a tight, graceful smile. "It's quite alright. However, it reminds me that Angelo and I have pending matters regarding the De Luca asset transfers in our betrothal contract." I paused, letting a shadow of proper concern cross my face. "I need to speak with him immediately, but it would be highly inappropriate for me to enter his private office alone, especially during a memorial. Out of rispetto(respect) for your family's protocol, could you perhaps ask Nonna Caterina to assign two of her trusted ladies to accompany me? Just to serve as witnesses and prevent any... misunderstandings."

Sofia nodded approvingly, clearly appreciating my adherence to tradition. "A wise and respectful request, Isabella. Wait here."

Twenty minutes later, I was walking down the quiet, carpeted corridor of the East Wing, flanked by Sofia and two of Nonna Caterina's most senior housekeepers, Maria and Francesca.

As we approached Angelo's heavy oak door, his Associate, Sal, paled drastically. "Miss De Luca! Ladies!" Sal stammered, his voice unnaturally loud as he stepped in front of the door. "Mr. Moretti is on a highly confidential conference call—"

He didn't need to finish. Through the thick wood, Genevieve Russo's grating, greedy laugh echoed clearly.

"Oh, baby," she purred, her voice muffled but unmistakable. "Once we get our hands on the De Luca shipping routes, the entire Chicago bootlegging operation is ours."

Maria and Francesca exchanged a dark, horrified look. Then came Angelo's arrogant reply.

"Exactly. That scarred bitch is nothing but a stepping stone. Damien thinks he runs everything, but he'll soon find out that with the De Luca wealth behind me, I am the true future of the Moretti family."

The trap snapped shut perfectly.

I let out a choked gasp, my hand flying to my mouth. I forced tears to well in my eyes, staring at the door with a mask of absolute, shattered devastation.

"Isabella..." Sofia whispered, her face pale with shock.

I didn't wait. I turned on my heel and fled down the corridor, a perfectly executed picture of a brokenhearted maiden unable to bear the betrayal. Inside, my blood sang with cold, vicious triumph.

I burst into the main hall, ignoring the stares of the mourners, and threw myself directly into the arms of my grandmother, Nonna Sofia De Luca.

"Nonna!" I cried, my voice trembling loud enough to silence the entire room. "I will not do it! A daughter of De Luca will never marry a traitor who plots to steal our legacy while bedding a whore!"

The hall went dead silent. The string quartet stopped abruptly. Nonna Sofia's eyes turned as cold as a Sicilian winter. She didn't speak, but her lethal gaze locked onto Nonna Caterina Moretti. The unspoken pressure in the room was suffocating.

Maria and Francesca hurried in moments later, looking breathless and grim. Under Nonna Caterina's furious command, they repeated every treasonous word they had heard outside the office.

The matriarch's face turned a mottled red. Angelo's father, Donatello Moretti, dropped to his knees on the marble floor in immediate, terrified submission.

His mother, Donna Eleonora, however, panicked. "It's a lie!" she shrieked, pointing a trembling finger. "That tramp seduced my boy! He didn't mean—"

"Silence, Eleonora!" Nonna Caterina roared, her voice cracking like a whip across the cavernous room. "Your son has stained the Moretti name with his disonore(dishonor)!"

She turned to the heavily armed Soldiers standing by the doors, her eyes blazing with a ruthless, unforgiving light.

"Bring Angelo and that woman to me. Now."

Continue to next part

Indianna Hughs had always been the quiet one, the shy one. She stayed in the background, blending in, never getting noticed. She liked it that way. So when she's forced to move schools, she isn't happy. Everyone notices the new kid, and she doesn't want that kind of attention. Especially not from Mr. Bad Boy, who seems a little too interested in her. "She's shy," Brooke shrugged, glancing at Indianna, who looked like she'd rather be anywhere else but in the classroom with them. "Well, come on," Greyson said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "I don't bite." Indianna stiffened just like before. "Don't say that," she replied quietly, but there was firmness in her tone now. Greyson raised an eyebrow, a slow smirk forming on his lips. "Did I hit a nerve?" he asked. "Guess you're not as innocent as you look." This is the edited and rewritten version of Shy. All rights reserved.

Mafia Werewolf

9.0

Chained in the Don's Repentance

9.0

When Rosie falls overboard at a yacht party, a furious Porter blames Alessia for the tragedy. Determined to make her pay, the ruthless billionaire chains Alessia in his manor's underground wine cellar, flooding it with icy lake water. He ignores her desperate pleas, locking her away to repent for her supposed jealousy. But when he finally opens the iron door a week later, he is met with a gruesome horror: Alessia's lifeless, ruined body has already been devoured by the dark.

Billionaire Horror Mafia Modern Romance

8.7

Falling For The Mafia

8.7

I ran to Las Vegas to escape my family's hatred of mafias, where I met Emily and developed feelings for her. Emily was one of the people I had to leave behind. I didn't want to live a life of brutality and bloodshed. My only goal was to finally get away from it all. But my best friend Matthew kidnapped her and took her to his house. She initially denied, but unintentionally had a crush on us two; in order to protect her, I needed to confess to my father her identity as my girlfriend; however, daddy would never admit the three of us being together, until we were accidentally met by Jim, my daddy's minion, while we three were having sex; he was going to tell on us to our adversaries, which might bring danger to our entire mafia family; once again, I meant to protect Emily, while making her fall at the hands of our foes..

Action LGBT+Mafia Modern

7.9

He Chose The Mistress, Losing His True Queen

7.9

I was the Architect who built the digital fortress for the most feared Don in New York. To the world, I was Brendan Wiggins’s silent, elegant Queen. But then my burner phone buzzed under the dinner table. It was a photo from his mistress: a positive pregnancy test. "Your husband is celebrating right now," the caption read. "You are just the furniture." I looked across the table at Brendan. He smiled and held my hand, lying to my face without blinking. He thought he owned me because he saved my life ten years ago. He told her I was just "functional." That I was a barren asset he kept around to look respectable, while she carried his legacy. He thought I would accept the disrespect because I had nowhere else to go. He was wrong. I didn't want to divorce him—you don't divorce a Don. And I didn't want to kill him. That was too easy. I wanted to erase him. I liquidated fifty million dollars from the offshore accounts only I could access. I destroyed the servers I had built. Then, I contacted a black-market chemist for a procedure called "Tabula Rasa." It doesn't kill the body. It wipes the mind clean. A total hard reset of the soul. On his birthday, while he was out celebrating his bastard son, I drank the vial. When he finally came home to find the empty house and the melted wedding ring, he realized the truth. He could burn the world down looking for me, but he would never find his wife. Because the woman who loved him no longer existed.

Mafia Modern Romance

7.6

He Faked Death, I Married The Don

7.6

I was arranging white lilies on the cold marble of my husband's grave when I saw a ghost. Walking through the cemetery gates was a man who looked exactly like my dead husband, Dante. Logic said it was his twin brother, Matteo. But a wife knows the slope of a man's shoulders. She knows the arrogant tilt of his chin. My husband hadn't been blown up in a car bomb three years ago. He had faked his death to steal his brother's rank, his fortune, and his mistress. For three years, I had forced our son, Leo, to kiss a photograph goodnight. We lived in a damp, peeling apartment, surviving on the "charity" of the Family. Meanwhile, Dante was living in a mansion, driving cars that cost more than my life, playing house with another woman. When he came to our cramped apartment to drop off the monthly "pension" money, pretending to be Uncle Matteo, he didn't look at me with love. He looked at his watch. When Leo ran to hug him, shouting "Papa," Dante peeled the boy's small arms off his expensive suit like he was removing a piece of lint. "Don't call me that," he snapped. "I am your Uncle." My grief turned into ice. He chose another woman's comfort over his own son's hunger. I grabbed Leo's hand and walked out the door. "You walk away, and you get nothing!" Dante shouted after me. "You'll be on the street!" I didn't stop. I walked straight to the black SUV idling at the curb. The window rolled down, revealing Salvatore Vitiello. The Don. The most lethal man in the city. "Get in, Elena," he commanded. I opened the door and slid onto the leather seat next to the devil himself. As we drove away, leaving my husband in the dust, I realized I had just traded a liar for a killer. And I didn't regret it for a second.

Mafia Modern Romance

8.8

His Ruin, Her Coronation

8.8

For five years, she served as the secret lover and trusted advisor to New York mafia don Julian Thorne. But her dreams of a family shatter when she discovers her pregnancy, only to witness Julian promising marriage to another woman. The devastating betrayal triggers a miscarriage. Devastated and seeking a way out, she wakes in a hospital bed and contacts her associate Ronan. To leave Julian behind, she agrees to sign a binding marriage contract with Cassian Valerius, the powerful Chairman of the Council.

Billionaire Mafia Modern Romance

Betrayed By Him: Marrying The Mafia Ghost

Chapter 4

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