Chapter 6 The engagement

“Liam is loyal, Dan. Do you seriously think he’d betray us?”

“I don’t know who he is anymore,” Dan mutters bitterly.

“He’s still a Draneth,” I reply firmly. I still believe in my brother’s loyalty.

I would die believing in it.

“Fine. So Dad and Liam go tomorrow?” he asks. I nod. “And today you’re going alone?”

“Noah’s coming with me.”

“I don’t like him.”

“I trust him. That’s enough.”

Noah has been on several missions with me over the years. He’s risked his life for me more times than I can count.

“But he’s too damn funny. It annoys me.”

I know what he means.

Noah reminds him of who Liam used to be—sharp-tongued and provocative, though far less unbearable.

I take one last drag before crushing the cigarette in the ashtray. It hasn’t been used in a long time.

“He’ll be a good underboss, since you refused.”

My father will retire shortly after my marriage and remain as my Consigliere for some time, but I need to build my own circle of trusted men. Noah is one of them.

Dan sighs, throwing his head back for a moment. He stands, pours himself a glass of whiskey, and downs it without caring that it’s still early.

“Are you worried about what she looks like?” he asks, changing the subject.

Tomorrow is my engagement to the Russian mob commander’s daughter, and I’ve never seen her. She just turned eighteen—that was her father’s condition for the engagement.

The idea didn’t please me, but marriages are business in our world. As future Don, I’ll do what needs to be done.

“No.”

I don’t have time for that kind of triviality. I made an agreement with the Bratva, and I won’t go back on my word.

It’s a fact.

Dan arches an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth lifting.

“You should’ve seen a picture before proposing the alliance.”

“No one takes pictures of her,” I remind him.

The girl is protected like a state secret. Only those of extreme trust to the Pakhan have access to her.

We heard that a paparazzo once broke into his house trying to photograph her. The Pakhan had his hands and eyes torn out—and left him alive as an example.

No one ever tried again.

“Fuck that. I’m just saying it’d be nice if you liked what you’re going to sleep with,” Dan says, taking another drink. “But I guess no one expects you to be faithful. That’s rare in the mob.”

And Dan Draneth is part of that rare group.

It’s no secret that men in the mob cheat and keep mistresses. Most wives know it. Some even seem relieved. Many don’t like sex and prefer their husbands have someone else to satisfy them. For some women, it’s only for producing children.

I have no idea how my future fiancée will be about any of that.

Hell.

I have no idea what she’ll be like at all.

But we were at war with the Bratva. The Russians were closing in. I knew it was only a matter of time before things exploded between us.

An arranged marriage was the best solution.

Even without seeing the girl’s face.

“But as far as I know, you’re your wife’s loyal little puppy,” I tease, trying to lighten the mood.

He grunts.

“I am loyal. Milena is enough.”

I smirk. I like knowing he’s okay.

We hear commotion outside. Chairs scrape. Women gasp as something approaches my office door.

I don’t even move. I already know what it is.

“Liam,” Dan says as our middle brother walks in without knocking—shirtless, wearing only jeans.

He was probably torturing someone, but hadn’t finished yet. When Liam finishes, he’s always covered in blood.

One of his insane rules.

“I have information for you,” he says, looking directly at me. “Change the jet. The fuel was tampered with. They want you dead before you even set foot in Russia.”

“Names?”

Liam pulls a bloodstained paper from his pocket and hands it to me.

I recognize the names immediately—old capos loyal to my father.

They don’t want me in command. They can’t swallow the fact that the future Don is half their age.

I nod and send instructions from my phone. They’ll be captured. The jet will be replaced. A trusted man will inspect the aircraft before I leave for Russia.

“Make sure they’re alive when I land tomorrow,” I order.

Liam nods and turns to leave.

“Leave them alive,” I add.

“I don’t plan on killing them quickly,” he replies coldly.

The emptiness in his eyes reminds me why he’s become the most sought-after executioner in the world.

He leaves without saying a word to Dan—the man who used to be his best friend.

Dan downs another glass of whiskey.

“I’m getting out of here. Let me know if you need anything,” he mutters. Before leaving, he looks me in the eyes. “Be careful, Ramzi. We’re in alliance, but I don’t trust the Russians.”

“I know how to take care of myself.”

He nods and walks out, leaving me alone in the office.

I look down at the bruised knuckles of my hands.

In recent years, I’ve handled the strategic side of the mob—drug routes, weapons flows, territory expansion. I’ve always had someone else do the dirty work.

But after my brothers’ accident… after the chaos our family became…

Breaking someone with my own hands became necessary.

My knuckles are proof of that.

Dan channels his rage in the ring.

I search for any damn opportunity to release mine.

Because if I let myself sink…

The Outfit sinks with me.

And that cannot happen.

I bring another cigarette to my lips, inhaling deeply, hating every second of this cursed addiction.

A secretary knocks and enters with a tray of coffee. She’s new. Her nervous glance gives her away.

“Excuse me,” she says, approaching my desk.

I let my eyes travel over her body. She exhales sharply under my gaze. When I lift my eyes to her face, she drops hers immediately.

None of them can hold my stare.

But she smiles.

A smile I can read from miles away.

“Mr. Draneth… can I assist you with anything else?” The suggestion laces her voice.

I drag my thumb across my lower lip without bothering to look at her face again.

I only see her body.

What interests me.

Smoking and sex.

My damn escape valves.

And I definitely don’t want to smoke anymore.

I crush the cigarette into the ashtray and harden my gaze on the woman standing in front of me.

Sex, then.