The Mafia's Blind Wife

An accidental act of heroism reshaped Sera's life entirely. She lost her sight saving the grandmother of a stranger. In return for her goodness, she was forced into marriage with the old woman's grandson, Lucian Vitale. He was a mysterious businessman with no interest in love, and as people whispered, colder than ice. Given her circumstances, Sera had no choice but to accept. She became his pretend wife, bound by contract. It was a kind of relationship she'd never imagined living. Sera had never planned to fall for a man she'd never seen. But with every touch, every murmur from Lucian, she was slowly pulled under by longing and feelings that should never have taken root. In darkness, she learned to love-and to bleed. Then came the day her vision returned. She heard a truth that shattered her world and tore at her heart. Frightened beyond reason, Sera ran and vanished. She carried a secret in her womb: the child of their passionate nights together. Four years slipped by. A man stepped back into her life. Same voice, same scent, same way his hands found hers... but he did not know her. He had amnesia. Can Sera escape the man who once meant everything to her? Or is this fate's way of calling them back to settle what they began-in their beds, their hearts, and the secrets that still wait to be told? Between lies, desire, and memories... will they choose each other still?

Chapters

Chapter 3

SERAPHINA

Noise first-running feet, shouts that blurred into one another. I fought to pry my eyes open, but the dark met me like a wall. I waved a hand before my face, fingers slicing through air I could feel but not see. Nothing. Just black, thick as water.

"W-What happened?" The words fell flat in the quiet.

My head throbbed, every muscle singing with ache. I tried to sit up, limbs heavy as stone. Dead? Hit by a car? I clawed at memory, but it slipped like soap. Car? What was I doing before...

I touched my forehead, then my eyelids-they were open, I could feel the stretch of skin. So why was the world gone?

Fragments clicked into place, sharp and sudden: the old woman hunched on the sidewalk, the glint of a knife, the van's rust-colored door slamming shut.

Right. I'd fought with Mama at dawn-she'd screamed about dropping out, said school was a waste of money I didn't have. I'd stormed out, walking to campus when I saw them drag her in, saw the blade tear through her cotton shirt. I'd run without thinking, feet slamming against asphalt.

What came after? I squeezed my lids shut, chasing the ghost of it.

Then I remembered.

"He sprayed something in my eyes!" I jolted upright, sheets twisting around my legs.

My heart hammered against my ribs, so hard I felt it in my throat. I spun my head side to side, hands scrabbling over cool linen. The dark didn't shift.

The truth landed slow and heavy, pressing the air from my lungs.

"Am I... blind? Did I lose my sight?" My voice cracked, thin as spider silk. Hot tears tracked down my cheeks, and I didn't bother to wipe them away. Blind.

How will I finish school? My work? How can I make something of myself when I can't even find my own hands? Fear coiled in my gut, tight as a spring. They'll hate me more now.

If they'd resented me when I could see-when I'd scraped for every peso to pay tuition-what would they do now?

I drew a shaky breath, forcing my hands to unclench. That's when I heard it: a door opening, soft as a whisper, then closing. No footsteps, no words.

"H-Hello? Is anyone there?"

A pause, then a quiet clearing of throat. "I take it you've realized your condition, Miss Mortez." The voice was calm, even-like pouring water into a glass. A doctor, maybe.

"Am I really blind?" My hands trembled in my lap, knuckles white.

"For now. But it isn't permanent. We expect full sight back within a year-maybe sooner."

A year. I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding, but the knot in my chest didn't loosen. A year in darkness... who would take me in?

"W-What about the woman I tried to help? Is she okay?"

Another pause-long enough I could almost feel her looking at me. "You're worried about her, even now?" A hint of warmth in her laugh. "She's stable. Healing well."

Something lightened in my chest. The doctor spoke of swelling, of treatment, of drops I'd need to take-but the words slid off me, leaving only one thought: Mama.

"Would you like us to contact your family? We can have someone call them."

I froze. "I... I don't know their numbers by heart." My voice sounded small, lost.

"I see. We'll find a way to-" The door slammed open so hard the frame rattled, wood groaning in protest.

"Seraphina!"

My breath caught. Mama.

"Ma'am, please-you can't just enter without-"

"M-Mama?" I cut through the doctor's protest, relief warring with dread so sharp it made my teeth ache. "How did you find me? I was so scared-"

A slap cracked through the air, landing hard on my cheek. I cried out, clutching my face as numbness spread over my skin. I didn't know where to turn-there was nowhere to look.

"Damn you! Useless enough before-now you're blind and good for nothing!" Her voice bounced off the walls, harsh and sharp.

"Mama, I didn't mean-"

Another slap, harder this time. My head spun, and I tasted copper on my tongue.

"You've never brought anything but curse to this house! Why did I even have you?"

Her words cut deeper than any blow. I heard her shouting at the doctor, voice rising and falling like broken glass. It was nothing new-Mama's anger had always been a storm I couldn't outrun. I mumbled for the doctor to let her stay, my voice flat and heavy as stone.

The air in the room thickened, warm and sour with anger. Without sight, every sense felt amplified: the shift of the mattress as she sat beside me, the rasp of her breath, the faint smell of sweat and cooking oil clinging to her clothes. I hunched against the headboard, waiting.

"Your Aunt Aning showed up at the house to tell me where you were, you fool!" She snapped. "What are we supposed to do with you now?"

"I don't know, Mama. I don't know." My shoulders slumped, and the cane beside the bed felt like a weight I'd already been carrying.

So close to graduating. I'd counted every day, every exam, every paper I'd written by hand because we couldn't afford a computer. Now it all felt like smoke. Even if my sight came back-if-would anything be the same?

Silence stretched between us, long and tight. Then she spoke, and the words shredded what little hope I had left.

"I've decided. I'm selling you to Don Tiago. You're no use to us like this."

"Mama! I'm not a thing to be sold!" I cried out, hands fisting in the sheets until my knuckles burned.

She smacked my thigh, hard enough to make me flinch. "What else? You can't study, can't work-you'll just drain us dry. We need to take care of Hera, not clean up your messes!"

My chest tightened until I could barely breathe. How could she let me go so easy? What had I done to make her look at me like I was nothing more than a burden to be traded?

"At least with the governor, we'll get paid. You'll finally be worth something-and you'll live in a real house!"

Fear pricked at my skin, cold and sharp. Governor Tiago... the stories drifted through my head-whispers of young women taken to his estate, never seen again. Before I could speak, the world tilted, and darkness swallowed me whole.

"Sera! Are you done yet? Hurry-Hera's gonna fix your face so you don't look like you've been crying all week."

I dropped my head, fingers wrapped around the smooth wood of my cane. Two days had passed since I'd woken up blind. Papa had yelled until his voice gave out-exactly what I'd expected.

"I'm ready," I said, voice flat as I sat on the edge of the bed. Footsteps approached, quick and light, then Hera's voice cut through the air.

"Ugh. Why did you have to go and get yourself blinded? Now you're gonna be that creep's toy." Her fingers were cold as she grabbed my chin, dabbing something sweet-smelling on my cheeks.

I said nothing. My heart was already in pieces-what more could she do to hurt me?

"Ah well. Thanks for the money, though! Finally getting out of this hole. Guess you are the breadwinner after all."

I let her pull me to my feet, let Mama adjust my dress-too tight, too fancy, nothing I'd ever wear on my own. When they said the governor was here, they guided me toward the door, their hands heavy on my arms.

"What's wrong with you? Stop crying!" Mama hissed, pinching my side hard enough to make me gasp.

Who wouldn't cry when their own family is selling them? But I bit my tongue, letting her drag me forward.

"Stop it! You're making us look bad!" Hera complained beside me.

I was almost grateful for the dark-grateful I wouldn't have to see his face, or the greed shining in my family's eyes.

"Gov!" Mama called out, her voice bright as polished glass.

"Oh, Mrs. Mortez! Is this the girl?" The voice was slick, oily-like warm grease sliding over stone. I could almost picture his smile, too wide, too sharp.

How do I get away?

"Yes, sir! Isn't she beautiful?" Mama trilled.

"Beautiful indeed. Perfect, just perfect."

"Are you happy now, Mama?" The words slipped out before I could stop them, quiet as dust.

She pinched me again, and I let out a laugh that sounded like broken glass.

What else could I expect from people who never saw me as their own?

I listened as they haggled, voices rising and falling over numbers I tried not to hear. Then a hand wrapped around my arm-warm, but firm enough to make my skin crawl.

"You're a lovely thing, sweetheart," he murmured in my ear, his breath hot against my neck.

I didn't move, didn't speak, letting him lead me toward what I assumed was his car. But before I could take another step, a voice cut through the noise-deep, cold, and sharp as a blade.

"Negotiating human trafficking... is that how you conduct business, Gov Tiago?"

Even I froze, every muscle going tight. The hand on my arm squeezed hard with panic.

"V-Vitale! What are you doing here?" The governor's voice shook.

Vitale?

"I'm here for Seraphina Mortez. And it seems you're holding her against her will."

The governor shoved me away so fast I stumbled, my cane clattering to the ground. Strong arms caught me before I hit the dirt, pulling me close against a chest solid as stone. His scent filled my lungs-clean pine, something sharp and warm like wood smoke.

"W-What do you want with me?" I asked, my hands finding his shoulders, fingers curling into the fabric of his jacket.

"Not now. We'll talk later. Just hold on." His voice was low, steady-impossible to resist.

"W-Wait! She's our daughter-" Papa stammered.

"How much did he offer you?" The man cut him off, his tone leaving no room for lies.

"H-Huh?"

"I won't ask again."

"Five hundred thousand dollars."

Five hundred thousand. I'd worked three jobs for a year to save a tenth of that. I wasn't surprised-nothing about this should have surprised me.

"I'll pay triple. In exchange, you forget Seraphina Mortez was ever your daughter. No claims, no contact. And if you ever try to find her..." He paused, and the silence that followed was more terrifying than any threat.

"You'll regret it."

I heard my family scrambling, voices rising in panic and greed all at once. Then strong arms lifted me off my feet, and I wrapped my legs around his waist instinctively, clinging to his neck. I said nothing as he carried me to a car, setting me gently on seats soft as buttered leather.

"Stay here. I'll handle the rest." He closed the door, leaving me alone in the quiet dark-wondering who this man was, and why he'd pulled me from a fate I'd already begun to accept.

Continue to next part

I was reviewing the laundering accounts when my husband asked for a hundred thousand dollars for the nanny. It took three seconds for me to realize the woman he was trying to pay off was wearing my missing vintage Chanel earrings. Damian looked me in the eye, using his best doctor's voice. "She is struggling, Ainsley. She has five boys to feed." When Casey walked in, she wasn't wearing a uniform. She was wearing my jewelry and looking at my husband with intimate familiarity. Instead of apologizing when I confronted them, Damian protected her. He looked at me with a mixture of pity and disgust. "She is a good mother," he sneered. "Something you wouldn't understand." He used the infertility I had spent millions trying to cure as a weapon against me. He didn't know that I had just received the investigator's file. The file that proved those five boys were his. The file that proved he had gotten a secret vasectomy six months before we started trying for a baby. He had let me endure years of painful procedures, hormones, and shame, all while funding his secret family with my father's money. I looked at the man I had shielded from the violence of my world so he could play god in a white coat. I didn't scream. I am a Pierce. We execute. I picked up my phone and dialed my enforcer. "I want him ruined. I want him to have nothing. I want him to wish he was dead."

Mafia Modern Romance

9.2

From Mafia Pawn To The Don's Queen

9.2

It wasn't a gun, but the pen in my hand was going to end my life just the same. Liam, the man I was supposed to marry in a month, pointed to the tablet on his desk. It showed a live feed of my mother’s hospital room. "Sign the confession, Ava," he said, his voice devoid of any warmth. "Take the fall for the embezzlement. Or the funding for her ventilator stops in ten seconds." My heart hammered against my ribs. The crimes weren't mine. They belonged to Chloe, his mistress. But Liam Valenti, the Underboss of New York, was sacrificing me to save her. "She's fragile," he said casually, adjusting his silk cuffs. "She can't handle prison. You're strong. You'll survive." With tears blurring my vision, I signed the document. I signed away my career as a lawyer and my freedom to save my mother. Liam snatched the paper like a prize. He didn't offer comfort. He just smirked. "Good girl. The wedding is still on, of course. You'll look beautiful in the ankle monitor." He walked out to celebrate with his mistress, thinking he had won. Thinking he owned me. But he forgot one crucial detail. I wasn't just his fiancée. I was the one who laundered his money. I knew where every body was buried—literally and financially. The moment the door clicked shut, I stopped crying. I pulled out a burner phone and opened an encrypted app. I wasn't going to jail. I was going to war. I typed three words to the one man Liam feared most. "Execute Protocol Zero."

Mafia Modern Romance

9.2

Just A Placeholder: Dying For His Mistress

9.2

I stood on the tarmac clutching white magnolias, watching the man I loved hand his loyalty to the woman born to destroy me. Dante Cavallaro, the Ruthless Underboss, didn't just leave me for Sofia Moretti. He revealed that for two years, I wasn't his lover. I was a human shield. The heavy iron bangle he forced me to wear wasn't a gift for my protection. "It's a Malocchio anchor," he sneered as I lay paralyzed on the floor. "It drains the wearer's luck to keep Sofia healthy. You are just the filter." My body began to rot from the inside out, my nerves dying one by one. When I was finally on my deathbed, unable to move or speak, Dante didn't cry for me. He cried because his tool was broken. He forced the cursed bangle onto his own wrist, begging the universe to keep me alive so I could continue to suffer in Sofia's place. "Please," he sobbed into my sheets. "Don't leave me alone with the bad luck." I used my last breath to make a wish—not for him, but for my freedom. I closed my eyes and died. Exactly one hour later, Dante's phone rang. It was his father. "Sofia just collapsed," he said. "Her heart just stopped." I was the vessel. And now that I was gone, the poison had come home to the King.

Action Mafia Romance

8.5

I Married My Ex-husband's Beloved Woman's Father After Being Betrayed

8.5

My mother, Mary Willis, was bitten by a snake, and the snake's owner was none other than Jennifer Walker, my husband's beloved woman. When I called my husband, Timothy Rossi, he was on vacation with Jennifer. "Please come back, Timothy. Mary's condition is very serious." But he merely sighed and soothed me as if I were throwing a tantrum. "I'm in Arngueuil Isles with Jennifer right now. She's been feeling down lately..." So Timothy ignored my humble plea and resolutely hung up the phone. At that moment, all my strength crumbled to dust. In despair, I could only cling to the hem of the man in front of me-Samuel Walker, Jennifer's father, a notoriously ruthless and brutal Mafia boss.

Mafia Modern Romance

9.1

Rising From Ashes: The Betrayed Queen Returns

9.1

I woke up strapped to a freezing operating table, a gaping hole crudely sutured over my heart. Joi Rocha, my supposed guardian, stood nearby holding a glowing vial that contained my freshly extracted Phoenix gene sequence. "Don't blame me, sweetheart. Gayla's body is just too weak. She needs this sequence more than you do." In my past life, I endured years of illegal biological harvests for this family. My fiancé Brennon watched with cold eyes as they ripped the gene from my chest, while the elite academy students filmed and mocked my bleeding, broken body. They stripped me of my status, drained every drop of my worth, and left me to die in a freezing tomb just so their precious fake daughter could thrive. Until my dying breath, I didn't understand. I had given them my absolute loyalty, so why was I treated like disposable medical waste? Why did my life mean absolutely nothing to them? But opening my eyes again, I realized I had returned to the exact day they stole my core. This time, I didn't cry or beg. I stared dead into Joi's eyes and smiled. I detonated the residual energy in my chest to incinerate Gayla's stolen sequence, faked my own flatline, and injected myself with a hidden dark matter drive to completely rewrite my DNA. If they wanted to play God with my life, I was going to burn their entire world to ash.

Mafia Modern Sci-Fi Young Adult

7.3

Rising From Wreckage: Starfall's Epic Comeback

7.3

Rain hammered against the asphalt as my sedan spun violently into the guardrail on the I-95. Blood trickled down my temple, stinging my eyes, while the rhythmic slap of the windshield wipers mocked my panic. Trembling, I dialed my husband, Clive. His executive assistant answered instead, his voice professional and utterly cold. "Mr. Wilson says to stop the theatrics. He said, and I quote, 'Hang up. Tell her I don't have time for her emotional blackmail tonight.'" The line went dead while I was still trapped in the wreckage. At the hospital, I watched the news footage of Clive wrapping his jacket around his "fragile" ex-girlfriend, Angelena, shielding her from the storm I was currently bleeding in. When I returned to our penthouse, I found a prenatal ultrasound in his suit pocket, dated the day he claimed to be on a business trip. Instead of an apology, Clive met me with a sneer. He told me I was nothing but an "expensive decoration" his father bought to make him look stable. He froze my bank accounts and cut off my cards, waiting for the hunger to drive me back to his feet. I stared at the man I had loved for four years, realizing he didn't just want a wife; he wanted a prop he could switch off. He thought he could starve me into submission while he played father to another woman's child. But Clive forgot one thing. Before I was his trophy wife, I was Starfall-the legendary voice actress who vanished at the height of her fame. "I'm not jealous, Clive. I'm done." I grabbed my old microphone and walked out. I'm not just leaving him; I'm taking the lead role in the biggest saga in Hollywood-the one Angelena is desperate for. This time, the "decoration" is going to burn his world down.

Mafia Modern Romance

The Mafia's Blind Wife

Chapter 3

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