You were on vacation in Russia alone because you had just broken up with your dumb boyfriend, who had been cheating on you with your own best friend. As you walked down the street, you noticed an old man struggling to pick up his things from the ground.

“Let me help you with that,” you said, kneeling down to grab his fallen items.

“Thank you, sweetie,” he said with a warm smile.

“It’s fine,” you replied, smiling back.

“Would you like to go somewhere? I work as a cab driver,” he offered.

You nodded in agreement.

But his cab was no ordinary cab. It looked luxurious, the kind meant for high-class clients.

“Do you have a boyfriend?” he asked.

“No. I just broke up,” you said.

“Oh, you should find a Russian mafia boyfriend,” he joked.

“I need to find a Russian mafia boyfriend? Is my life going to be easy?” you teased, thinking he was just trying to cheer you up.

“You don’t need to work anymore. They’re loyal to their partners,” he continued.

“Oh really? What if he has another woman behind my back?”

“No. It would be like Russian roulette,” he said with a wink.

You laughed at his joke.

“They’re crazy sometimes, but they have money. Keep him for one year, then divorce him. Take his money and run away,” he said, smiling.

You laughed again. “What if my rich Russian mafia man tries to find me?”

“No. They don’t have time for that. They’re busy with mafia business. But those who love you so much… he will find you again, even if he has to go through hell to drag you back to his side,” he said seriously.

You just laughed, thinking he was exaggerating.

As you arrived at your hotel, you said goodbye and tried to give him some money, but he refused. “It’s my treat,” he said. You waved and walked inside.

The old man drove to his home—no, his mansion. As he stepped out of the car, his men immediately bowed to him.

“Where the hell did you run off to again, Grandpa?” a deep voice called from behind.

He turned to see his grandson, the heir to the mafia, Viktor Leonov, staring at him.

“I found your bride,” the old man said innocently.

“You did what?” Viktor shouted, shocked. “That’s why you took Evan’s car and pretended to be a cab driver?”

“You’re turning forty this year,” his grandpa said seriously. “It’s time for you to find a wife and have an heir, so I can play with my little grandson before I die.”

Viktor rubbed his temple, already feeling a headache coming.

“I don’t have time for this,” he murmured.

The old man only smiled, clearly unconcerned.