Chapter 2 Destiny

I just want a normal life.

“Are you sure you want to ask your father for this? If he grants your wish, there’s no turning back.”

“I don’t know if my father will grant it this time. It’s serious.”

I raise an eyebrow. Her father always grants her wishes. Every single one.

“Okay, but you’re forgetting one detail,” I say. “You’re going to marry an American, and we don’t even know if he’s handsome,” I tease, making her laugh.

“We can look something up online on one of the soldiers’ phones. We’ll use your charm to our advantage,” she says, and now it’s my turn to laugh.

We’re not allowed to have phones or internet either. Vladimir fears enemies approaching his daughter through social media, so he keeps her isolated from the world.

Well—that’s what he thinks. Some soldiers lend me their phones now and then, and we access whatever information interests us.

“Don’t you think we should do that before you beg your father to marry him?”

She sighs and shakes her head.

“You know what? I don’t care. He won’t find any pictures of me anywhere either, so it wouldn’t be fair if I saw him first.”

“Life isn’t fair to women,” I reply. “There’s nothing wrong with having an advantage over a mafioso who has probably done things you’ll never be allowed to do.”

“That's how mobsters are. That's just how it is,” she says firmly.

“That’s why I’ll never marry a Mobster.”

She laughs and shakes her head.

“I don’t have that option. So at least I want the freedom to choose my husband. I’ll talk to my father.”

“Good luck,” I say, my heart tight.

“Don’t worry. I have a good feeling. My fiancé will be handsome.”

I laugh as she leaves the room.

And then I’m the one left alone, biting the corner of my nails.

Because I need Elena to be happy. She’s a good girl. She deserves it.

She deserves love and freedom. She deserves a life far from this golden cage that surrounds and suffocates her.

And when that happens, her father will set me free too.

— Excuse me, Mrs. Draneth, may I hold your coat so you can enjoy the party beside your husband? — I tease, playing the role of a maid welcoming guests into a grand mansion.

Elena bursts into laughter and hands me her coat, fully stepping into the game. We’ve been doing this for over an hour—fantasizing about her future, her wedding, and her new last name.

“I still can’t believe I’m really going to get married,” she says, glowing.

Of course her father granted her request. He would do anything for her, and my friend couldn’t be happier.

“Only two years left!”

“There are still two years left,” she corrects with a sigh. “I’m going to mark it on the calendar and count down the days until my engagement.”

Her father agreed to the marriage—but with one condition: Elena can only become engaged once she turns eighteen. Only then will she meet Ramzi Draneth, the Outfit mobster who will become her husband.

“What are two years compared to forever?” I say, and her smile widens.

“Ramzi Draneth… I love his name,” she sighs, as if she’s already in love with a man she’s never seen. “His father will make him Don as soon as we marry.”

“You’re going to be the First Lady of Chicago. One of the most powerful women in the United States!”

The light in her eyes flickers for a moment.

“But… what if he changes his mind? Two years is a long time. My father said Ramzi Draneth is fourteen years older than me. He’s not going to take a vow of chastity until the wedding. What if he finds another woman? What if he falls in love before he even meets me and calls everything off?”

I grab her shoulders firmly and give her a gentle shake.

“Hey, look at me. Don’t let anything ruin this moment, okay? You dreamed about this—actually, we dreamed about this for years. And now it’s happening,” I remind her, watching her take a deep breath to calm herself. “He won’t back out. Going back on your word in the mob means war, and no one wants to face the Bratva’s fury.”

Elena bites the corner of her lip thoughtfully and looks at me with a half-smile.

“I think you’ve been spending too much time around my father’s soldiers. You’re already talking like a mobster.”

I roll my eyes and laugh, deciding to break the tension. I hand her coat back and step away.

“Now put it on. We need to rehearse your married version handing me your coat at a party again. All eyes will be on you. You have to do it right.”

Her smile is priceless. And every time I call her Mrs. Draneth, it grows even wider.

After acting like two sixteen-year-old girls for far too long, we shower and go downstairs for dinner. Her father beams when he sees how happy she is, and even her mother—usually reserved and rigid—offers her a small smile.

At the end of the night, we lie down together, facing each other, our fingers intertwined. Even though I have my own bedroom in the Tenent mansion, we sleep together almost every night, talking about our dreams and making plans for the future.

“Siren… do you think I’ll be happy?”

“There’s something up there watching over us. We’ll be happy, Elena. I’m sure of it.”

We talk a little longer until her breathing becomes steady, a sign that sleep has finally claimed her.

But I can’t sleep.

And for the first time in a long while, it’s not because of the thousand theories about my past.

It’s because of what’s coming.

Because when Elena gets married, I’ll be granted my freedom.

I’ll be able to leave. To make my own choices. To live.

I won’t be the daughter of a traitor anymore. Nor a prisoner. Nor someone’s shadow.

I’ll be free.

Only two years left…

There are still two years left.

I think I’ll mark it on my calendar too.