Rise of the Mafia Boss(from most underated to most feared)

It was eight o'clock at night, and somewhere in Boston, a high-profile family was having an important celebration.

Over the years, the Ciaro family had built a reputation as one of the most powerful names in the business sector. In the city of billionaires, no one came close. People dreaded them, not just for their wealth and fame, but for their power in the crime world. Low-key, the family was involved in dirty gang deals that the government themselves couldn't dare to question.

It had been two years since Mr. Ciaro died. He left the family empty and exposed. Competitors were circling, trying to take over the drug business. Since the most feared cartel leader passed, the protection around the Ciaro name was fading fast. He left behind only daughters, no son to carry his legacy.

Mrs. Ciaro noticed the danger. She figured out a plan to keep the family alive. Tonight, her 50th birthday, she would marry her daughters off to the city's most feared, influential, and wealthy gang leaders to save the family name from threats.

---

As preparations went on, Andrew moved through the house in plain clothes, running around with his screwdrivers. Then the voices started again in his head.

"Nooo, please, leave my wife alone."

His father's scream echoed in his mind. He remembered that night. His dad pressed against the floor, four huge men in black holding him down. His mom was being dragged and thrown around the house like a ragdoll.

"Tell me where your husband kept it, or you will watch him die. And then we kill you." A commanding voice said.

"I don't know anything." His mom replied the men with teary eyes.

"She doesn't know anything. Leave her alone." His dad added angrily.

Then the door pushed open. A tall, slender figure walked in, dressed in black fitted clothes. His shoes thudding against the marble floor. He stopped in front of Mr. Chappatti and pressed his boot against his head.

Tears streamed down Andrew's eyes as he watched through the small hole in the cabinet.

"Andrew baby, hide here. Do not come out no matter what." Those were his parents' last words to him before it all began.

"Chappatti," the man who had just walked in said, biting into a big red apple. "Who would have thought the greatest and bravest second-in-command would be laying on the floor, begging for his life?" he mocked.

"I am not begging. I would never beg. Leave my house at once." His father spat stubbornly.

The man smiled. Andrews dad seems to be beating around the bush but it was obvious the man who had just walked in wasn't the type for long talks.

"I don't have time for this. Where is it, chappatti? Last time I'll ask. You know the rules. You know what we are capable of."

"I don't know where it is. You will never get it. It was never yours." Andrew's father replied in a finalizing tone.

immediately, The smile disappeared. The man's face turned brutal. He spat the apple out of his mouth immediately.

"Have you checked the house?" he asked his gang.

"Yes, sir. Nothing. Nothing at all."

That made him angry. He shifted his eyes from Mr. Chappatti to his wife.

"Keep him alive. Rape that stupid wife of his and make him watch. After that, slaughter him, chop every organ and put it in a bag. I'll feed it to my dogs."

The man said and dashed out of the house angrily.

The gang followed the instructions. They tore his mom's clothes. Made his dad watch as they took turns in r*ping her. Then they brought out machetes and slaughtered Mr. Chappatti, cutting him into pieces. Mother was shouting when the Cutlass hits here husband so hard, making him scream helplessly, while she laid on the floor, too weak to react. Minutes after, she faced the same tragic faith of death as her husband too.

The marble floor, once shiny, turned into a pool of his parents' blood.

Andrew hid. He couldn't look. He cried inside the closet, his mouth pressed shut so no sound escaped. After they left, dragging his parents away in a body sack, he still couldn't move. He was traumatized. His head stayed down.

Then a man in red trousers, a red shirt, and black boots walked into the room. His footsteps grew closer. Andrew stopped breathing. They found him. How? His parents promised him no one knew he was here.

"Hello, Andrew."

The closet opened. Andrew froze in fear—until the man shoved a golden crescent toward his face.

His family's crest.

" Don't be afraid, boy. I'm on your side."

Instantly, Andrew knew it was his guardian. His father had told him from a young age that anyone carrying this crest was family. They would protect him if anything ever happened. He never understood the words "if anything ever happens" until now.

Slowly, Mr. Ciaro lifted Andrew onto his shoulder and walked away with him.

That was how he found himself in the Ciaro family. He was ten years old when it happened. Now he was a grown man of twenty-two.

---

"Hey you! The party is about to start and the electronics are failing!"

Andrew snapped back to reality when Kane, Mrs. Ciaro's bodyguard, was yelling at him. He stood up and headed toward the hall.

Inside, beautiful lights spread across the room. Wealthy billionaires were already seated. Mrs. Ciaro sat opposite them in a stunning gold gown, her four daughters at her side. Stacy, Sophy, Lily, and Emilia. They all looked beautiful. Nice eyes. Smooth skin. So much confidence.

"Where is that stupid, good-for-nothing boy?" Mrs. Ciaro was boiling, struggling with the microphone. "I'm about to start and the mic isn't working!"

She noticed Andrew walking towards her.

"Hey you! What good are you in this family if you can't get things right? This is a big event. I wouldn't want it fucked up."

Her expression was dark.

"It's just the batteries," Andrew replied calmly. "No big deal."

He took the mic from her. The daughters glanced at him briefly in disgust, then quickly turned their attention to the influential men in the hall.

While he fixed the mic, Andrew kept his eyes on Emilia. The last daughter. The one Mr. Ciaro had betrothed to him days before he passed. His marriage to her, despite already been two years now, still felt like a surprise to him. Unlike the other daughters of Mr. Ciaro who treated him like trash, Emilia was different. Not like she had shown or expressed any love to him since they got married, but she has the kind of nature the forbids her frok treating someone trashy.

The room was packed with powerful men from different cartels, and while her sisters desperately scanned the room, mentally selecting which man they wanted to walk up to, Emilia stayed calm. She had always been the calm and charismatic type.

Andrew noticed.

He always noticed her. She was the only one who possessed the same character as her dad, Mr Ciaro.

*******