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MidReal Story
The Mafia’s Neglected Bride
Scenario:I’m married to Victor, a cold, cruel man who has no interest in me. He’s part of the mafia—an organization called the DTU (“Don’t Trust Us”).
I spent years trying to win his love, but my efforts were wasted. He brings other women home without shame, and his words cut deeper than knives. The night I found him in bed with another woman, I broke.
I cried outside the house, realizing my love for him was wasted. From that day on, I decided to stop wasting my time and love on him, and I became as cold as ice toward him.
But one day, when he asked me, “What’s for dinner?” I replied with a cold tone, “Make it yourself.”
Victor gripped my chin, forcing me to look at him. “You are MY wife, MY toy. You will respect me no matter what. Now hurry up and make me food. Why have you been so distant lately?” He looked at me with a curious look.
Create my version of this story
Eliza Beckett
wife of Victor, no direct relationships with other protagonists, petite with sharp features, resilient and determined.
Nicolette Lane
Eliza's confidante and friend outside the DTU circle, friends with Eliza and unknown to Victor initially.
Victor Beckett
Eliza's husband and a DTU member, married to Eliza, tall with a commanding presence, cold and manipulative.
The clock on the wall read 11:05 PM.
Five minutes past Victor’s expected home time, yet his car was still not in the driveway.
Sitting down at the kitchen table with a book open in front of me, I made an effort to focus on my reading instead of wonder where my husband could be at this late hour.
It wasn’t as if he had a particularly demanding job or anything…
Every night for the past week and a half, he’d come home between 10:45PM and 11:00PM without fail until tonight.
Something must have held him up if he wasn’t yet sitting across from me for our obligatory ‘hello’ conversation before going off to bed.
Victor asked for no love or kisses; only respect as his wife because that is all our marriage was—a contract between families so we may strengthen bonds within the DTU (Don’t Trust Us) organization my husband belonged to.
I glanced up at the clock on the wall again, 11:10 PM.
I couldn’t help but let out a frustrated sigh and shut my book, the pages rustling sharply as they hit the table top.
Grabbing my phone, I dialed Victor’s number and waited for him to pick up, my fingers slightly trembling in annoyance.
The phone rang once… twice…
"Hello?"
Victor answered, his voice a bit slurred.
"Where are you?"
I asked, my voice cold and steady.
"Out with friends. What’s it to you?" he replied.
Anger flared within me, but I kept my tone icy.
"You’re late. I expect you home soon."
Before he could reply, I heard a woman’s muffled giggle in the background, followed by hushed voices.
My fingers tightened around the phone as I strained to hear what they were saying.
The voice was too muffled, but I was sure it was a woman.
A few words sounded like "getting rid of her soon" before Victor’s low chuckle followed.
I pressed the phone closer to my ear, barely breathing, but the voices only grew more distant.
There was some rustling and then Victor’s voice returned, sharp and businesslike.
"I’ll be home when I want."
The line went dead.
I stared at the phone, my mind racing with possibilities.
"Who was that?" I whispered to myself, feeling a chill run down my spine.
Just then, the door creaked open and in walked my sister, her face pale and eyes wide.
"Eliza, I-"
She stopped short as she saw the look on my face.
"What happened?"
I held the phone to my ear, my hand shaking.
I strained to hear anything, but there was only static.
Suddenly, a voice broke through the static.
A woman’s voice, low and breathy.
"I can’t wait for next week. The plan is set in motion."
A low chuckle followed, and then some rustling sounds.
"Once she’s gone, we can finally be together."
I gripped the phone tighter, trying to make out more of the conversation.
But it was too muffled, and then suddenly, it was gone.
The line went dead with a click.
I stood frozen in the dark kitchen, my hand still holding the phone to my ear.
My sister pounded on the door again, her voice muffled by the wood.
"Eliza! Open up! What’s going on?"
But I couldn’t move.
My mind was racing with what I had just heard.
Who was Victor talking to?
And what did they mean by "getting rid of me soon?"
Eliza's voice trembled as she finally opened the door, her eyes locking onto her sister's.
"Victor... he's planning something," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Her sister's eyes widened in alarm, and she grabbed Eliza's arm. "What do you mean? Planning what?"
"What? What did you hear?"
Lily asked, her voice filled with concern.
Eliza paced back and forth in the living room, rehearsing what she would say to Victor when he came home.
The house was too quiet, every tick of the grandfather clock echoing through the room.
She had laid out his favorite whiskey and prepared his late-night meal - steak with peppercorn sauce, just the way he liked it.
But as midnight approached, the food grew cold on the plate.
Lily’s warnings replayed in her head, but she pushed them aside.
She straightened her dress and reapplied her lipstick, determined to make things right between them.
Finally, at 12:30 AM, headlights swept across the driveway, signaling Victor’s return.
Eliza steeled herself, ready to confront the truth lurking in the shadows.
