Married to the Mafia Heir

THE RULES OF SURVIVAL

The first night in the Cruz penthouse was colder than Siena expected — and not because of the air conditioning.

Alek had already claimed the master bedroom, tossing his jacket on the bed like a king returning to his palace. Siena stood in the doorway, arms crossed, watching him with half a glare.

“You said we’d keep our distance,” she said.

He didn’t look up. “There’s a guest room down the hall.”

“Oh? And I was just supposed to figure that out telepathically?”

“You’re smart. I figured you’d manage.”

She huffed, turned, and walked out — the guest room door slamming a little harder than she meant it to.

The room was surprisingly nice — navy and gold décor, soft sheets, and a view of downtown Denver’s lights blinking like secrets. Still, Siena sat on the edge of the bed, feeling out of place.

This wasn’t her world. She was used to library shifts and instant noodles, not private chefs and armed drivers.

And yet… here she was. Mrs. Alek Cruz.

What a joke.

The Next Morning

She was barely out of bed when her phone lit up. Unknown number.

Text from Alek:

> Press conference. Wear something decent. 10 AM.

> Don’t embarrass me.

She nearly threw the phone across the room.

But by 9:55 AM, she was downstairs, dressed in a sleek black jumpsuit she found hanging in the closet — likely picked out by one of Alek’s people.

He didn’t compliment her. Of course he didn’t.

He barely glanced her way as they walked side by side, flashing smiles to the cameras.

“My wife,” he introduced her to reporters, arm slipping around her waist. “The best decision I ever made.”

She leaned in and whispered through her teeth, “You mean best lie you ever told.”

His smile didn’t falter. “Keep it up, Blake. You’re good at this.”

Later That Day

Back at the penthouse, Siena yanked off her heels.

“This isn’t sustainable,” she muttered.

Alek, lounging on the couch, looked amused. “What, pretending to like me? You’re doing fine.”

She shot him a look. “You’re the most annoying, arrogant person I’ve ever met.”

“Good. That means you’ll never fall for me.”

Siena paused, something flickering in her chest.

“That’s not in the rules,” she said.

He stood, walking closer. “Let’s add it, then.”

There was only a foot between them now. Close enough to feel the heat. The tension.

“Rule #6,” Alek said quietly. “No falling in love.”

Siena stared at him, chin lifted. “You first.”

He smirked — then turned away.

“I already did that once,” he said over his shoulder. “Never again.”

She didn’t ask what happened. But something told her that behind all the arrogance… he’d been hurt before.

And maybe, just maybe, she was already breaking the rules.