The Dead Bride's Vicious Mafia Comeback

A year ago, my husband Marco traded my life for a political alliance. I watched his mistress's taillights fade into the dark as the freezing waters of Lake Michigan swallowed me whole. They called my drowning a tragic accident and burned a fake body before anyone could demand an autopsy. Tonight, Marco is marrying that same mistress, Isabella, in a lavish ballroom filled with Chicago's underworld elites. They even conceived a child during my mourning period, a deadly sin in our traditional Mafia family. They thought I was rotting at the bottom of the lake, completely forgotten. But they didn't know I had survived, bleeding through brutal underground training just to crawl my way back. When the wedding venue plunged into darkness and a single spotlight hit me standing there in a white mourning gown, Marco dropped his glass. "Arabella? No... you're dead," he choked out, his face draining of blood. Isabella shrieked, looking like she had seen the devil himself. Did they really think a little water could wash away our sacred vows? They stole my life, my name, and my family, expecting me to stay a compliant ghost forever so they could secure their power. I smiled coldly as I handed the Mafia Don a decree of absolute protection from The Commission. I am Arabella Stark, and my vendetta only ends when they drown in their own blood.

Chapters

Chapter 4

Seraphina POV

Marco's fingers dug brutally into my flesh as he dragged me out of the shadowed alcove and back into the blinding light of the Grand Foyer. The heavy mahogany doors slammed shut behind us, drawing the immediate, suffocating attention of the Stark family core.

Marco shoved me forward slightly, putting on a sickeningly perfect mask of sorrow. He looked at his grandfather. "Don Silas, Arabella is unwell. The trauma of the lake... her mind is completely fractured. For the sake of the Stark reputation, she has agreed to be transferred to a sanitarium in Switzerland. She will be cared for, but she must relinquish her title."

I let out a cold, echoing laugh that sliced through the heavy silence.

"So, Marco," I projected my voice, ensuring every syllable bounced off the black-and-white marble walls, "your love for my 'resurrection' is just asking me to make room for you and your mistress, and then disposing of me like trash?"

Marco turned ashen, his jaw working soundlessly. Don Silas's face darkened like a thundercloud, the sheer disrespect of Marco's transparent cowardice offending his ruthless sensibilities.

Isabella sneered. Shoving Marco's pathetic frame aside with absolute disgust, she marched right up to the head of the family.

"A Stark bride does not share her home with a ghost," she spat, her chin raised in arrogant defiance. "You choose, Don Silas. The Moretti alliance, or this... thing."

The air in the foyer turned to ice. It was a blatant, unforgivable challenge to a Don's authority.

Before Silas could unleash his wrath, Aunt Francesca glided across the room. She stepped into Isabella's personal space, leaning in close. I strained to hear the matriarch's venomous whisper.

"The doctors in our family are very discreet, but not deaf. A baby conceived before the wedding... what a scandal that would be for the proud Moretti family."

The blood instantly drained from Isabella's face. The arrogant mafia princess deflated, trapped by her own reckless sin. Trembling with suppressed rage, she pivoted and stalked toward me.

"I don't know what game you're playing," Isabella hissed, her voice a lethal thread meant only for my ears, "but I know how to make people disappear for good. Leave, or you'll end up back at the bottom of the lake."

There it was. The confession.

I looked at her twisted, hateful face, and leaned in, my voice a soft, venomous caress. "You had to murder an innocent people to get this far, and you still ended up as a replacement bride, carrying another man's bastard in your belly."

Isabella's sanity snapped.

"Arabella is dead! She deserved to die!" she shrieked, her voice tearing through the foyer like shattered glass. She pointed a trembling finger at me, commanding her personal bodyguard. "Shut her mouth! Permanently!"

The hulking man lunged at me. I didn't freeze. Years of surviving in the shadows, of bleeding for every ounce of my strength, took over. I pivoted, dodging his meaty hands, grabbed his wrist, and twisted sharply. With my free hand, I slipped the heavy dagger from his belt. I kicked the back of his knee, sending him crashing to the marble floor with a sickening thud.

I stood over him, twirling the stolen blade effortlessly. In the periphery, I saw Damien step out of the shadows, his dark eyes flaring with a dangerous, consuming intrigue. He wasn't looking at a broken wife anymore; he was looking at a weapon.

I didn't stop. I marched toward the grand fireplace. With one vicious swipe of the dagger, I slashed the massive, oil-painted engagement portrait of Marco and Isabella. The canvas tore with a satisfying rip.

Isabella screamed. I closed the distance between us, grabbing the heavy diamond necklace—the Stark bridal gift—around her throat. I yanked. The clasp snapped, and dozens of diamonds rained down on the cold marble like frozen tears. I shoved her hard by the shoulders, sending her sprawling into the mess of her ruined dress and scattered jewels.

"Enough!"

Don Silas's roar shook the crystal chandelier. Two Stark Soldiers materialized instantly, grabbing my arms and forcing me to my knees. The cold marble bit into my skin. Don Silas towered over me, his eyes devoid of mercy.

"She is no longer a Stark. For dishonoring this family, for her madness, she is cast out. Take her away."

Take her away. The universal mafia code for execution. Marco exhaled in relief. Isabella smiled a bloody, triumphant smile from the floor.

The Soldiers hauled me up, their grips like iron. But before they could drag me toward the basement, the heavy double doors of the foyer burst open.

The estate's butler stood there, breathless and pale, his eyes wide with unprecedented terror.

"Don Silas! A messenger from New York! He says he's from the Chairman of The Commission!"

Continue to next part

"Whether you like it or not, I'm going to marry you, Jillian," Sir Zach told me. His face was dead serious, as if he had already made up his mind. "What do you mean, marry me? Hey! Just because you're rich doesn't mean you can do whatever you want! There is no reason for me to marry someone like you!" I snapped at him. It felt like he was trying to dictate every single thing I did, even though he wasn't even my boyfriend. "I have a reason to marry you, Jillian. Something happened between us, don't you remember? You were actually the one who kissed me that night you were completely wasted," he reminded me, a smirk playing on his lips. I swallowed hard at his words. Right. Something did happen between us. But it wasn't intentional. Someone had drugged my drink, which was why I acted that way the night he pulled me away from the "friends" I thought were genuine. "So, there's no reason to say 'no,' my future wife," he said with a wink. It looks like there's no way out for me. I'm actually going to be the wife of Sir Zach-my professor and the one person I'm always at odds with.

Mafia Modern Romance

8.9

A New Beginning After Divorce

8.9

After three years of marriage, he abandoned her, but treated Maria Harris like a treasure. He ignored her and treated her harshly. Their marriage was like a cage. Linda Abels is very patient, because she loves Shane Harvey deeply! Until it rained heavily that night, he left her pregnant and flew abroad to accompany Maria', while Linda's legs were bleeding and she crawled out to call an ambulance... She finally breathed a sigh of relief: some people's hearts can never be covered. Linda wrote down the divorce agreement and left quietly. ... Two years later, Linda came back with countless suitors around her. Her scum ex-husband pressed her on the door panel and forced her step by step: "Mrs. Linda, I haven't signed yet! Don't want to be good to others!" Linda smiled and said lightly, "Mr. Shane, we have nothing to do with each other!" The man's eyes were slightly red, and he tremblingly said his vow when he got married: "Linda will never leave him in his life, and divorce is prohibited!"

Mafia Modern Romance

9.2

Bound to the calloway's heir

9.2

In LA's Business world, Zane Calloway, thirty, turns cartel king after his father's gruesome murder, ruling The Atlas Group with a bloody fist. He learned how betrayal could ruin even the biggest empire and was hell bent on keeping Atlas Group. However when Sienna Carter, his new assistant got in the picture, he threw caution to the wind. To become the only one controlling the cartel, he would use Sienna who was a supposedly ghost from a dead cartel as bait for his enemies. Sienna Carter made his mission become even more complicated as she ignites a dangerous sparks in him. Twenty-five year old Sienna Carter just wanted to stay alive, running away from danger had been the only thing she was capable of since her family were murdered. All she had as a semblance of her old life was the locket her dying father had given her and when a new job pops up in Los Angeles, she gambled for it, hoping for her sake that it wouldn't lead her straight to the same hell she was running from. However, she would soon realize that the Atlas Groups was going to be more than just a survival decision but the key to everything.

Billionaire Mafia Modern

7.1

Don't Cry Now, My Heartless Ex-Husband

7.1

The smell of leaking gasoline burned my nostrils, but the cold look in my husband's eyes hurt worse. Trapped in the overturned car, I watched Jacob reach in. He didn't reach for me, his wife. He unbuckled his mistress, Cassandra, shielding her head with a tenderness he never showed me. He walked away, leaving me to burn. I survived, but at a brutal cost. My right hand—the hand that played Chopin—was crushed into a useless claw. Jacob didn't apologize. Instead, he moved Cassandra into our home. He let her wear my diamonds, mock my injuries, and burn my sheet music. When I tried to expose her embezzlement, he called me unstable. To punish me for "betraying the family," he dug up my mother's grave and threw her ashes into the sea. That was the moment the wife died, and something else was born. He thought he had buried me under the weight of his cruelty. He didn't realize he had planted a seed. I staged my death and vanished into the snowy streets of Vienna. Five years later, I am a world-renowned composer, and Jacob is a ruined man in a wheelchair, begging for a forgiveness I no longer have the energy to give.

Mafia Modern Romance

9.1

He Chose His Pregnant Mistress, So I Chose His Mafia Boss

9.1

Betrayed by a husband who abandoned her for his pregnant mistress, a woman finds herself at a devastating crossroads. Seeking a path forward, she makes a daring move to align with the one man her former spouse fears most: his own mafia boss. This high-stakes alliance plunges her into a dangerous underworld where loyalty is a weapon and revenge is a slow burn. In a world of crime and passion, she must navigate the risks of her new life.

Mafia Modern Romance

8.2

I Left The Jester For The King

8.2

"Little Siren: I miss your hands on me." That message lit up the screen of a burner phone I found in my fiancé's jacket pocket while he was in the shower. Franco Moretti, the rising star of the Vitiello crime family, treated me like a fragile glass doll. He claimed he was "saving himself" for our wedding night out of respect. But the phone told a different story. I unlocked it and found three years of betrayal. It wasn't just a fling. It was Camilla, a girl from high school I had befriended out of pity. I watched their history unfold. He complained that I was cold. He called me a statue. Then I saw the invoice. He had bought two identical pink diamond engagement rings. One for me, and one for her. Worse, he had stolen my grandmother' s heirloom jade bracelet-a piece of history meant for his bride-and given it to his mistress. "I need her name to get the chair," he texted her. "You are my true Queen." I didn't cry. I didn't scream. I realized I wasn't a person to him; I was a ladder. Leaving him would be too easy. Leaving is what victims do. I walked to my laptop and opened a new document. I wasn't just going to cancel the wedding. I was going to broadcast his ruin to the entire underworld, and our wedding would be my stage. Then, I picked up the phone and dialed the one number my father forbade me to call. "I accept," I told the deep voice on the other end. "You understand what you are agreeing to, Gianna?" Enzo Falcone asked. "I understand," I said, looking at the New York skyline. "You want an alliance. I want a weapon."

Mafia Modern Romance

The Dead Bride's Vicious Mafia Comeback

Chapter 4

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