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 7

Seraphina POV

The heavy silence stretching over the remnants of breakfast was shattered by the sound of heavy boots echoing in the corridor.

Before the guards could drag Isabella out of the Formal Dining Hall, the mahogany doors were shoved open. Lucia Moretti, Isabella's aunt, marched into the room flanked by two heavily armed Moretti Soldiers. Her chin was tilted in absolute arrogance, completely disregarding the fact that she had just trespassed into the heart of the Stark estate.

"Let her go," Lucia snapped at the Stark guards, her voice cracking like a whip. She didn't even offer a respectful nod to Don Silas. Instead, her venomous gaze landed on me. "Did you really think a ghost from a forgotten grave could take the place of the Stark Matriarch?"

Lena Stark stood up, her face flushed with indignation at the blatant disrespect. "Lucia, this is a private family matter. You cannot simply—"

"We are here to take our princess home," Lucia interrupted coldly, her eyes slicing through Lena. "Not to listen to the excuses of a failing family."

The insult hung in the air, a blatant declaration of war.

Panic seized Marco. The realization that his political alliance—and his future—was walking out the door broke whatever fragile composure he had left. He shoved past his mother and grabbed Isabella's wrist.

"Isabella, please," Marco begged, his voice trembling with a pathetic desperation that made my stomach turn. "Don't do this. Stay. I promise you, I will deal with her. You are the only one I want."

Isabella ripped her hand from his grasp as if his touch burned. A cruel, mocking smile twisted her lips. "Deal with her?" she sneered, her voice echoing off the high ceilings. "Like you dealt with Arabella? Why did you even bother orchestrating her 'accidental' drowning in the lake if you didn't have the spine to finish what you started!"

The dining hall plunged into a deathly stillness.

Marco's face drained of all color, turning the shade of a fresh corpse. He stumbled back, his eyes darting frantically toward his father. I kept my expression perfectly blank, though my heart hammered a vicious rhythm against my ribs. There it is. The confession. The final nail in his coffin.

"We are leaving," Lucia commanded, grabbing Isabella's arm.

They turned toward the exit. It was time to spring the trap.

"Are you really leaving, Isabella?" I asked. My voice was soft, laced with a sickeningly sweet concern that stopped her dead in her tracks. "The first Stark grandchild shouldn't grow up without a father's presence."

Isabella froze. Slowly, she turned around, her eyes wide with a terror so profound it stripped away her arrogance. "You're lying," she breathed, her voice shaking. "Shut up! Shut up!"

In a devout, traditional Mafia family, a premarital pregnancy during a mourning period wasn't just a scandal—it was a death sentence to a woman's honor.

I shifted my gaze to my mother-in-law, feigning innocent surprise. "Oh, Lena, surely you knew? A mother can always sense the joy of her first grandchild."

Isabella's head snapped toward Lena, her eyes blazing with betrayal. "You told her?!" she shrieked.

Lena blinked, momentarily caught off guard. But across the table, Aunt Francesca caught Lena's eye. A silent, calculating exchange passed between the two older women. A Stark heir was leverage. It was the ultimate chain to bind the Morettis.

Lena straightened her spine, her expression hardening into stone. "Yes," Lena declared, her voice steady. "She is carrying a Stark."

"No!" Isabella screamed, thrashing against her aunt's grip. "Marco, tell them it's a lie!"

Marco stared at the floor, suffocating in his own cowardice. His silence was a damning confirmation. Isabella lunged forward and slapped him across the face, the sharp crack echoing like a gunshot.

Don Silas finally moved. He folded his newspaper, stood up, and walked slowly toward the center of the room. The sheer weight of his presence forced everyone into submission.

"This concerns Stark blood," the Don decreed, his voice a low, dangerous rumble that left no room for argument. "It is family business. Isabella will remain here until the child is safely born."

"You cannot keep her!" Lucia hissed, stepping forward.

Don Silas didn't even look at her. "Escort Lucia Moretti off my property. Lock down the gates."

The Stark Soldiers immediately moved in, forming a human wall between Isabella and her aunt. Lucia's face contorted with pure rage as she was forced backward out of the dining hall, leaving her niece behind.

The heavy doors slammed shut, the metallic click of the lock sealing Isabella's fate. She stood trembling in the center of the room, surrounded by the family she despised, completely and utterly trapped.

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"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 7

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