The Mafia and The Billionaire

Serene's POV

"Serene, you need to keep in mind that you hold the future of our organization, so you'd better make wise decisions at all times,” said Grandma. We were in the living room of our mansion in Portico, discussing my departure. I looked at my Grandpa sitting beside her, waiting for him to say anything, but he just shrugged his shoulders.

I knew how worried my grandparents were since my father called me to discuss my inheritance. So, I needed to return to Ling City immediately, where I had spent six years of my life. "Serene, do you understand me?" Grandma asked in a monotone yet strict voice. I looked at her, took a deep breath, and answered,

"Yes, Grandma."

"By the way..." She paused for a long moment, and my forehead began to sweat, feeling uneasy. "My dear Serene, you're already an adult, which means you are of age to get married and have your own family. Took this time to find someone who will be there for you, but I also want you to choose someone you're attracted to if not love." 

I don't know about the "attracted" part, but I don't think there will be any man who will attract me. After what have I experienced with my own father? I didn't want to argue with Grandma, so I sipped on the cup of tea my ever-attentive Grandpa had prepared, hoping it would calm my trembling nerves. "It's not that I'm rushing you, Serene, but you must choose a suitable husband who understands the intricacies of our family and can support our business endeavors," Granny emphasized, her voice carrying a mix of concern and expectation. "You must claim what is rightfully yours, but be mindful not to squander the wealth that your mother has painstakingly built." 

I gathered my courage to speak up despite the tremors coursing through my body. "Grandma, do I   need to go to such lengths?" I questioned, my voice wavering slightly. "Besides Grandpa and my friends, I don't know any man who exceeds their characters."

"You are right about that, dear." My old man chimed in, making me roll my eyes at him because I had been waiting for him to say something, and yet, he only did it now when I was talking about being a good man. 

With grace and exuding an air of authority, she replied, "Your mother worked tirelessly for that company, and you, my dear, possess her intelligence and resilience. But it would be best if you did not repeat her mistakes. I trust you understand what I mean," Grandma said firmly, as she clutched my Grandpa's arm. 

Though I had intended to remain silent, my tongue betrayed me, and I found myself unable to hold back any longer. "Grandma, you have reiterated this countless times since I came here. I have embraced the path you set for me, and I want you to know that I willingly chose it. However, I want you to relax and not worry about me. I will find my husband and look for someone opposite my father. Another thing is, I plan to bring Enzo and Patt," I informed her, watching her react. She nodded in acknowledgment. 

Turning my attention to Grandpa, I couldn't help but wonder if he would allow Grandma to continue dominating the conversation. "And Grandpa, will you just allow Grandma to do all the talking?" I inquired, hoping for a different perspective. 

"Your grandma is always right," Grandpa replied, again accompanied by a playful eye roll from me. It was hard to imagine him as the former leader of a mafia. In Portico, our family was renowned for our kindness and generosity, and we were always ready to lend a helping hand to those around us. However, beneath that benevolent facade lay an undeniable ruthlessness. While we didn't flaunt it openly, the civilians knew better than to cross our path. 

My father, Lorenzo, had betrayed my mother, inflicting immeasurable pain on me. He would have to face the consequences of his actions. As for his mistress, she would not achieve what she wanted, nor would their illegitimate child. Lorenzo did nothing to protect Mom when she was harmed and ultimately murdered, and those memories remain painfully fresh in my mind. 

*** Flashback *** 

When I was six, my parents and I visited the amusement park. A mysterious man approached us while I was still tightly holding onto my mother's hand. It struck me as odd that he wore a hat and sunglasses despite the absence of sunlight, and the way he covered half his face sent a chill down my spine. 

Dressed in a long trench coat that reached his knees, the man asked my mother with an ominously twisted smile: "You're happy, right?" Fear gripped me in that moment, not for myself but for her. 

My father, seemingly irritated, said, "What is it, Marissa?" It was at that moment that I despised him. While I was already frightened by our circumstances, he appeared unfazed. Sensing the danger, my mother shielded me with her body, and I could only catch a glimpse of the man pulling out a knife from behind him. 

"M-Mom," I called out, desperately seeking her attention. She held my hand tightly, but I sensed her efforts to protect me from harm. When I called out to her again, I tugged at her hand, my concern for her overwhelming. And then, I watched in horror as I saw the man aggressively stab my mother. And my eyes widened when she fell to the ground.