How Does The Story Of The Mafia Don'S Regret End?

When you're accidentally involved in a gang business, the mafia king saves you before they wipe you out. He's handsome and looks familiar As he pulls the trigger, you notice the ring on his middle finger The same ring you gave your ex-husband 8 yrs ago before he disappeared....

The wedding had been postponed ninety-nine times. I called the wedding planner and told them to change the bride's name to Ivy Sterling, Charles Hart's childhood sweetheart. "Donna, are you sure?" the planner asked cautiously. "This time, the Don didn't postpone again." I heard the surprise in his voice. My answer was calm. "Yes. Change it to Ivy Sterling." From the very beginning, Charles gave only one instruction for the wedding: "Adjust the decorations according to Ivy's taste." He explained that Ivy had good taste, that she would only serve as a reference for our wedding. But every choice, the flowers, the favors, the entrance music, was made by Ivy. Even my wedding dress. She had said lightly, "A mermaid silhouette suits her better." So I decided to give the entire wedding, steeped in her presence, to them. And I walked away from this farce completely. From now on, let him keep his old dreams. I will go and enjoy my own boundless sky.

The second day after I was transferred back to Los Angeles, I ran into someone I used to know on a street corner. She stepped right in front of me, eyes going wide. “Mia? Mia Rossi? Why would you come back now? Dante's marrying Camille at the cathedral in a week.” Dante was my first love, and also the youngest heir to a mafia dynasty on this side of the Atlantic. He'd made me a promise once: that he'd make the entire Moretti family kneel and welcome me in. We had a deal: the day he officially took over as Don would be the day he married me. But his family had other plans. They arranged a match for him: Camille, a princess from one of Sicily's five great families. Pure bloodline, the genuine article. At first, Dante swore up and down she meant nothing to him. Less than nothing. Then I started noticing how he looked at her. Softer every time. Like he was falling. One night, riding home after a shift at the bar, Camille's car came out of nowhere and took me down. The gas tank caught, and half the block reeked of burning rubber and scorched metal. I was pinned under the wreckage, blood seeping from the back of my skull down my neck, warm at first, then cold. Dante was the first one there. He beat the ambulance. The first thing he did was walk past me. He crouched down, lifted Camille out of the passenger seat, and didn't look at me once, just dropped a few words over his shoulder: “I already called an ambulance. Hang tight. Camille's had too much to drink. I need to get her home.” That was the moment I was done with him. Completely, finally done. While he was gone, I discharged myself. I bought the farthest plane ticket I could find that same night and left without looking back. Five years passed. “Mia, you have no idea.” The woman grabbed my wrist, dropping her voice. “Dante spent years turning half of Europe upside down looking for you. You came back at the right time. He still keeps a seat for you every month on his birthday. Camille's too proud for a lot of things,

Sofia Marino infiltrates a mafia family based in Norvale just so she can investigate a series of missing persons case. She originally thinks that she will definitely marry Aurelio Bianchi. That is, until he shows up with another woman clinging to his arm and personally tramples all over Sofia's pride and ego. Only then does she realize that her five-year relationship with Aurelio is nothing but a joke. That's when Sofia leaves Aurelio entirely and picks up her gun once again. Meanwhile, Aurelio finally realizes that he doesn't just lose a woman—he's also lost the only woman who has actually loved him and is the only one capable of saving him.

I saved my husband, Raffaello, the Don of the mafia, from the hands of a rival family. In return, he forced me to kneel before his childhood sweetheart, Sofia, and bark like a dog just to cheer her up. Our son, Lorenzo, wandered into the family's chemical plant out of childish curiosity, so I dragged him out with my own hands. Only for him to look me in the eye and said that I wasn't worthy of being his mother. What my husband didn't know was that when the assassins came for him, I had deliberately drew them away, letting them capture me instead. They had injected a virus into body, which burned my throat and destroyed my voice forever. What my son didn't know either was that inside the chemical plant where I rescued him, I had inhaled an overwhelming amount of toxic powder, which later caused me to have severe asthma. That night, when my asthma flared up and my lungs began to fail, I used what little strength I had left to call my husband. He impatiently rebuked me, "Grace, stop bothering me for once. A person who is really dying wouldn't make such a scene. Don't think that I don't know that you're just jealous, trying to compete with Sofia for my attention." I collapsed into the snow, greedily gasping for the final breath of air. Then, everything went still. Later, Raffaello, who never loved me lost his mind. He injected the same virus over and over again into his body, just to feel the pain I once endured. Lorenzo, who refused to acknowledge me, attempted suicide repeatedly, begging fate to trade his life for mine. But, sadly, by then, I no longer loved them.

The day after I gave my fiancé, Don Antonio Rossi, the cold shoulder, he took Sofia to Alicante for a romantic getaway. He expected me to explode like I always had before—trash his study, start a fight, maybe even put another bullet through Sofia’s head. After all, my arrogance and temper were infamous in the mafia world. But this time, I did nothing. When he came back a month later, he realized I had changed. He deliberately handed the arms route I managed over to Sofia, and I surrendered it without protest. He publicly criticized my competence to build Sofia’s authority, and I lowered my head and accepted every accusation. Even when he announced at a family meeting that the ports under my control would be transferred to Sofia, I nodded calmly. Sofia smiled at him triumphantly. “See? I told you. A spoiled principessa like Isabelle just needs the cold treatment. Once she’s afraid of losing you, she’ll behave.” Antonio believed her completely. That night, he held me in his arms and promised. “Darling, you finally look like a proper donna now. I’ve already reserved the church. Next month, I’ll give you the lavish wedding you’ve always wanted.” I only smiled at him and said nothing. What that fool didn’t know was that before he left for that trip, the document he signed was an agreement terminating our engagement.