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 8

Seraphina POV

The metallic click of the lock echoed in the Formal Dining Hall, sealing the room like a vault. Isabella stood frozen in the center of the wreckage, the reality of her cage finally settling over her.

I picked up my porcelain coffee cup, the rim still warm, and glided toward her pale, trembling form.

"Welcome to your new home, Isabella," I murmured, my voice a velvet whisper meant only for her ears. "The Starks' most expensive prisoner."

The words snapped the last fragile thread of her sanity. She lunged at me, though the Stark guards instantly restrained her by the arms.

"You think this will hold me?!" she shrieked, her voice tearing through the heavy silence, pointing a manicured finger at the entire Stark family. "If I am ruined, I swear to God I will drag this entire family to hell with me! I'll tell the Falcones! I'll go to the FBI! Your laundered accounts, the smuggling at the docks—" She whipped her wild, venomous eyes toward her cowering fiancé. "And you, Marco! I'll tell them exactly how we orchestrated your bitch of a wife's 'accidental' drowning!"

The threat of breaking Omertà—the ultimate, unforgivable sin in our world—sucked the oxygen straight out of the room. Marco violently flinched, his face turning the color of ash. Lena Stark's jaw clenched so hard I thought her teeth might shatter. Isabella's madness had struck the Starks' most vulnerable nerve.

"Take her to the east wing guest room," Don Silas ordered, his voice a deadly, flat rumble. "Lock her in."

As Isabella's hysterical screams faded down the corridor, Lena rounded on me, her eyes flashing with pure hatred. "Look what you've done! For your pathetic Vendetta, you've dragged this entire family to the brink of war!"

I didn't flinch. I took a slow sip of my coffee, letting the bitter liquid coat my tongue. "You are wrong, Lena. The Morettis will not start a war. At least, not right now."

The room stilled. I met Don Silas's heavy gaze, laying out the intel Enzo 'The Ghost' had secured for me. "Their youngest daughter is currently finalizing a marriage contract with the heir of the New York Falcone family. That alliance is the only way the Morettis can secure the East Coast weapon routes. They will absolutely not let Isabella's scandalous out-of-wedlock pregnancy ruin that deal." I set my cup down, the clink sharp against the saucer. "A Don always sacrifices a princess to save his kingdom."

Silence stretched across the remnants of breakfast. Don Silas tilted his head, his dark eyes assessing me not as a nuisance, but as a calculated asset. Beside him, Aunt Francesca offered a faint, approving smirk. Lena opened her mouth to argue, but found she had no ammunition left.

By late afternoon, the anticipated Moretti retaliation arrived—not with an army, but with a single black SUV. Carmela Moretti, Isabella's mother, was escorted inside by two heavily armed Soldiers.

I remained in my suite, letting my loyal maid, Sofia, act as my eyes and ears. When Sofia returned, her voice was a hushed whisper as she recounted the brutal meeting in the guest room.

"Isabella threw herself at her mother, crying to go home," Sofia reported, folding my evening shawl with trembling hands. "But Donna Carmela slapped her. Hard. She told Isabella her stupidity had jeopardized the entire family's future. She ordered her to stay here, to have the child, and act as a hostage to buy the Morettis time."

A cold satisfaction bloomed in my chest. Isabella had finally realized she was nothing but a disposable pawn.

"But there is more, Signora(Madam)," Sofia added, her eyes darkening with worry. "Donna Carmela held her and made a promise. She said, 'Endure, my daughter. I promise you, before this child is born, I will let you watch that Valeriano bastard return to the hell she belongs in.'"

I stared at my reflection in the vanity mirror. Isabella hadn't been soothed by the promise. According to Sofia, she had screamed that she didn't want to be a breeding mare—she wanted to kill me with her own hands, so Marco could propose to her over my dead body.

The blood pact was sealed. The Morettis' intent to assassinate me was no longer a shadow; it was a certainty.

I stood up, smoothing the dark, expensive fabric of my dress. Carmela Moretti's visit was concluding. I walked out of my suite and headed toward the Grand Foyer to watch the Moretti matriarch depart.

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 8

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