A wife for the cruel mafia Boss

A wife for the cruel mafia Boss

monica caballero · Ongoing · 133.0k Words

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Introduction

He’s about to become Chicago’s most feared Mafia Boss. And love has never been part of the plan. Ramzi Draneth was raised to rule with blood and absolute control. His future is sealed by an arranged marriage designed to unite powerful crime empires. Then he meets Sereia Elordis. A silent captive. The daughter of a traitor. A girl promised freedom once the wedding is over. But Sereia is too beautiful to be released. Desperate to escape her fate, she gives her virginity to a stranger—never knowing he’s the ruthless man destined to rule Chicago. She runs before he learns her name. He hunts her when he realizes she might be carrying his child. Now alliances are collapsing. A war is rising. And Ramzi Draneth will burn the underworld to claim the woman who was never meant to be his. Even if it costs him everything.

Chapter 1

6 Years Later

Elena looks at me with bright, expectant eyes the moment I step into her bedroom. I’m sure she’s been pacing back and forth and biting her nails while waiting for me.

“So? Did you find out?”

I let out a heavy sigh, leaving the suspense hanging in the air before breaking into a smile. I run to the bed and throw myself onto the soft mattress. She follows, lying down beside me, her eyes locked on mine, anxious for the answer.

“Yes.”

“And?” she asks, her chest rising and falling quickly.

“It’s true. The Americans want an alliance with your father and have proposed marriage to seal the agreement between the mafias.”

“With me?” Elena asks cautiously, biting her lip to try to contain her smile.

I roll onto my stomach and prop myself up on my elbows, looking at the mafia boss’s daughter.

“Of course. Who else would it be?”

“With you.”

I let out an incredulous laugh.

“Elena, you’re the Pakhan’s daughter. I’m nobody important in the mafia for them to seal deals because of me.”

She looks away for a moment, as if she needs time to process the information.

“Everyone who has ever come through this house has been dazzled by your beauty… they all say you’re one of the most beautiful young women in Russia,” she says. “My father receives marriage proposals for you almost every day, brought by his own soldiers. Meanwhile, I’m sixteen and I’ve never even been asked out.”

“I’ve never dated either.”

“I’ve never even been kissed!”

“Neither have I,” I reply, and Elena looks at me as if it’s not the same thing.

“Siren, you haven’t been kissed because you didn’t want to. I haven’t been kissed because no one ever wanted me. That’s completely different,” she mutters. “At this rate, I’ll die alone.”

I sigh.

“You won’t die alone. I’ll be with you as long as you’re single. You know I won’t get married until you do.”

The weight of my words hangs in the air between us.

We both know it was never really my choice. It’s an order. Vladimir Tenent made that very clear. My role has always been to be his daughter’s companion. Everything else can wait.

She presses her lips together into a thin line.

“You must hate my father,” she murmurs, studying me carefully. “But I think I would have died of sadness without your friendship.”

I turn my face away, avoiding her sincere gaze.

“Don’t say that,” I scold gently, trying to ignore the sting that always rises when I think about my lack of freedom.

I force a smile and change the subject.

“But back to the Americans—they want you.”

“They want what I represent, but when they meet me they’ll realize that…”

“You’re beautiful, intelligent, loving, and kind,” I interrupt, making her smile. “And on top of that, you’re Vladimir Tenent’s only daughter. Whoever marries you will be the luckiest man in the world.”

Elena seems calmer, and that makes me happy.

I never truly felt part of this family, but her company made everything more bearable.

Over time, I learned that her fragile health was the result of being born extremely premature. Elena’s mother had suffered many miscarriages before carrying her, and she even lost her uterus when giving birth to the Pakhan’s only child.

My friend was born tiny and fragile, dependent on machines to breathe and develop. She spent months in intensive treatment, and even a simple virus could put her life at risk. That’s why her father never allowed her to leave the house.

Over the years, her health improved and she grew stronger. But Vladimir became obsessed with protecting her. She was his only heir, and he placed her inside a glass cage to guarantee her safety.

But not even the Pakhan controls everything.

At ten years old, the supreme commander of the Bratva’s daughter was diagnosed with leukemia. He told me I had the same blood type as Elena and that I would need to undergo tests to see if we were compatible in other ways as well.

Surprisingly, I was. And that saved my friend’s life.

After that day, Vladimir and Daria, his wife, began treating me better. Not with affection, of course, but at least I was allowed to stay with Elena every day and accompany her in all her activities.

I was so happy that I didn’t even realize my life had been handed over to a girl my own age as if I were an object. My freedom became hers, and my desires were meant to serve only her satisfaction.

The idea was absurd—almost cruel. But I needed a friend so badly that I would have submitted to anything. And Elena was good company. I truly learned to love her.

As women, we weren’t allowed to get involved in mafia business. And Vladimir never let us leave the mansion. All our lessons, courses, medical appointments—everything was done at home, except in emergencies when we had to go to the hospital. But even that belonged to the mafia. Everything was under his control.

However, as I grew older, I began to notice the effect I had on men and learned to use it to my advantage. I never let anyone touch me or get too close, but the mere promise that I might consider marriage in the future was enough to make the soldiers talk more than they should.

And so, between smiles and carefully chosen words, Elena and I learned everything we wanted to know.

“There’s just one problem,” I say, and I see her expression darken.

She sits up on the bed, worried.

“What?”

“Your father doesn’t want to accept the deal,” I explain. “He doesn’t trust the Americans and doesn’t want you leaving Russia.”

Elena gets up and straightens her posture.

“I’ll talk to him.”

“Are you sure?” I ask, sitting up to look at her face. “Elena, you don’t need an arranged marriage to build a family. There are many men in Russia who would be a good match for you.”

“I want to leave this country. I’m tired of seeing the staff look at me with pity and fear. They and all my father’s friends would despise me if I weren’t the Pakhan’s daughter, and that disgusts me,” she says angrily. “I want to start over. Move somewhere else. I want to be someone’s wife before I’m my father’s daughter.”

I nod and stand, understanding her feelings. When the time comes, I want to leave this house too. But unlike Elena, I want to marry someone outside the mafia—far from fear and violence.

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