Goodbye, Mafia Ex-Boyfriend

I stood by Franco for seven years. I stayed with him from his days as a Brooklyn street enforcer until he became the Underboss of the Moretti family. We promised to marry the day he fully took over the territory. Until last month. I saw Franco tangled up with someone else on the leather sofa of his safe house. He said she was cold like ice and that the other woman knew exactly how to please a man. He pinned her down. I chose to walk away. I heard the rumors later. After I left. Franco lost his mind.

Chapters

Chapter 3

We returned to the penthouse.

Franco offered to cook dinner to make up for his absence.

He left his phone on the marble kitchen island.

The caller ID was still the Port Authority Contact.

I always knew Franco's passcode.

I unlocked the screen.

A stream of messages flooded in.

"Franco, I miss you so much. Are you coming over tonight."

"You were so rough last night. My back still hurts. I cannot even get out of bed."

A photo of her wearing sheer black lace lingerie followed.

I did not read the rest.

It was completely meaningless now.

I would never turn back once the thought of leaving took root in my mind.

His phone buzzed again.

I kindly handed it to him.

"Here. Your phone has been ringing for a while."

The corners of his mouth twitched upward as he answered.

I knew I was not going to eat this apology dinner tonight.

Franco hugged me gently.

His guilt was palpable.

"Siena, I am so sorry. An emergency came up at the warehouse. I have to head over there right now. I might have to stay at the club tonight."

"Okay. Go ahead."

I maintained a perfectly polite smile.

Franco grabbed his leather jacket and rushed toward the door.

I received a text from an unknown number at midnight.

It was a picture.

The photo only showed the side of Franco's face.

The woman only showed off a pair of long, bare legs.

I did not need to guess.

I had zero interest in knowing who this woman was.

The picture from last night made the underground tabloids the next morning.

[Moretti Underboss Franco Caught Cheating!]

[Franco's Chaotic Private Life Exposed!]

I looked at the headlines dominating the screen.

My heart felt absolutely nothing.

Don Moretti called me personally.

He told me not to throw a fit.

I gave him a few vague answers and ended the call.

Franco finally walked through the door a week later.

He brought the same pastrami sandwich.

I suddenly found it hilarious.

"Franco, I am about to throw up from eating this exact same sandwich for seven years. It makes me sick just looking at it."

"What."

He froze in place.

He never expected me to say something like that.

He thought I would spin around in circles with joy based on his understanding of me.

He thought I should be grateful.

A person truly lost all their light when they stopped loving.

Franco was wearing a custom navy suit today.

I used to think he looked bright and handsome.

Now he just looked horribly average.

People were right.

My love was the gold plating that made him shine.

He only glowed because I loved him.

Continue to next part

My entire family was slaughtered three years ago by Alistair Kirkland, the usurper who stole the underworld throne. I was the only survivor. Smuggled out of New York as a child, I was trained in the shadows to become a flawless weapon. Now, at sixteen, I returned to the city that was supposed to be my graveyard. But the New York I returned to was a suffocating cage. Kirkland didn't just wipe out the Valenzuela bloodline; he branded my few surviving loyalists as traitors. He paraded my men down the streets in heavy iron chains, letting the very people we once protected hurl rocks at them. He bought the doctors, ensuring my wounded soldiers would bleed out in the dark. Even worse, the mother of my only ally—Julian Morgan—secretly sold us out to a Chicago warlord just to keep her archaic grip on power. I stood in the shadows, watching an eleven-year-old boy get his head smashed with a jagged stone just for defending his father's honor. How could the city my grandfather built cheer for our extermination? Why did the old guard prefer to cower and die in the dark rather than fight the monster who stole our home? "Ghosts don't knock on my door, Athena. What do you want?" Julian asked me. I tossed a blood-stained ledger of Kirkland's deepest secrets onto his desk. "I'm here to help you take back what's yours, and burn Alistair Kirkland's empire to the ground."

Action Mafia Modern

8.6

Betrayed Bride, Mafia Princess Rises

8.6

At my ten-week ultrasound, I was supposed to be celebrating the future of the Falcone family. I was Isabella Falcone, wife to the most powerful Don in the south. But when the nurse called my name, the man who stood up beside his pregnant mistress was my husband. In the sterile silence of that waiting room, he chose her. He later confessed he was being blackmailed by her family—a weakness that was a death sentence in our world. That night, he moved his mistress into our home, into my bedroom, and locked me away like a prisoner in the staff quarters. He wasn't imprisoning his wife; he was guarding an asset. He needed the legitimate heir I carried to save his crumbling empire. His betrayal was absolute when his own mother and my adoptive parents arrived while he was away. They forced me to sign divorce papers, then told me they were taking me to a clinic. His mother pulled out a gun and pointed not at my head, but at my stomach. "We're terminating this complication," she said coldly. As they dragged me from the house, my world went dark. But through the haze, I saw a fleet of black cars blocking the gate. An army of men poured out, led by a face I had only ever seen in a photograph. Days earlier, locked in my room, I made a single phone call to the only man more powerful than my husband: my biological father, the head of the Chicago Outfit. And he had come to collect his daughter.

Mafia Modern Romance

7.6

His Discarded Wife Was The Real Boss

7.6

I spent fifteen years building my husband's mafia empire, coding the complex algorithms that washed his blood money clean. But on my thirty-fifth birthday, instead of a gift, I received a photo of his hand resting on another woman's thigh. When I confronted him, Dustin didn't apologize. He brought his pregnant mistress, Jami, into our penthouse and told me to accept the hush money. "You have nothing except what I give you," he sneered, treating me like a slow servant rather than the mastermind behind his success. The argument turned violent. He shoved me hard, sending me crashing into a solid oak nightstand. As I lay on the floor, bleeding and dizzy from a split forehead, I watched the man I loved step over my body to comfort the woman wearing my mother's stolen heirloom ring. He didn't check my pulse. He didn't call for help. He looked at me with pure disgust and turned his back. In that moment, the wife died, and the witness was born. He thought I was powerless because I had no assets in my name. He thought I would fade away quietly. He forgot one crucial detail: I wasn't just the furniture in his castle. I was the architect. Every server, every encrypted drive, every hidden account—I owned the code. I wiped the blood from my face and walked out the door, but I didn't go to a lawyer. I went to a hardware store and bought a ten-pound sledgehammer. I wasn't going to just leave him. I was going to delete him.

Mafia Modern Romance

9.4

Sinful Intentions( The Mafia lord second wife)

9.4

Kidnapped, beaten and locked up, Aurora Puro Pucasso, The daughter of General Puro Pucasso, has her life turned upside down. One moment she's on her bed, the next, she's forcefully taken by Vincenzo West, and made to act like his wife Brielle, and the mother to his psychotic child in exchange for her to live. What happens when every of Brielle's past comes to haunt her? Can she survive her new daughter's torment? What happen when the line between Reality and fiction start to blur between Aurora and Vincenzo.

Mafia Modern Romance

8.4

Taming The Mafia Man.

8.4

Elena’s life takes a dangerous turn when she is thrust into the dark world of the criminal underworld. Forced into a high-stakes deal with a ruthless mafia heir, she must navigate a landscape of violence and betrayal. As she attempts to exert control over a man who knows no limits, their volatile connection sparks an intense, perilous romance. Amidst deadly power struggles, Elena fights to survive while taming the beast she was forced to love.

Action Mafia Romance

9.2

The Belladonna Game

9.2

A lie was supposed to be her weapon. But lies can cut both ways. Aliyah Santiago enters the Marino world with one mission uncover the truth behind her fiancé's death and make his killers bleed. Disguised as a Mafia princess, she plays the part flawlessly: poised, untouchable, dangerous. Every step she takes draws her closer to Brown Marino, the family's heir...and deeper into a labyrinth of obsession, betrayal, and power. But one man threatens to unravel it all. Ottavio, the Marinos' ruthless enforcer, watches her too closely. His suspicions slice through her disguise, his loyalty to Brown makes him untouchable, and yet when his hands brush hers, when his voice drops to a murmur against her ear Aliyah feels a fire she cannot control. "You think you can lie to me, princess?" "I've lied to everyone." "Not to me." Every stolen glance, every secret touch, every dangerous word exchanged pushes her closer to the edge. To fall for him would be reckless. To trust him could be fatal. But in a world where silence can kill and love is just another weapon, Aliyah must decide: is Ottavio the enemy who will expose her or the only man who can save her from herself? Deception. Desire. Danger. The game has begun, and in this game of Mafia thrones, hearts burn as fiercely as empires fall.

Action Mafia Romance

Goodbye, Mafia Ex-Boyfriend

Chapter 3

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