Chapter Text
Power.
Money.
Influence.
Olka Gretcher wasn't born just like any normal upper-crust child in Ostania.
Name gathered supporters.
Rank showed authority.
Overall, gathered enemies.
The moment before she was born, Olka was already deemed as the Gretcher’s mafia princess of this generation. Many people that surrounded the family were excited upon her arrival. Those that were not had watched out for another inheritor of the organization.
Growing up a lavish yet exclusive life, they had treated Olka with eminence. Not many people could enter her circle of friends, and not many had wanted to be associated with her in any way. Olka had gone to department stores—to community parks, even—with a bodyguard to accompany her. Even the simplest things such as buying takeout or cosmetics had been under strict watch not only by those that want to usurp their status, but by the State Police that wants to take down criminals.
Even those associated with the family weren’t any different from criminals to them.
Life of a gangster—let alone being born into one—was no joke to be taken lightly. Being a legitimate scion of a mafia, she and her two brothers were possible inheritors of their business. There had been those that wanted to take over and acclaim that status for themselves, however, which is under scrutiny.
Since then, the Gretcher siblings had been under strict watch. Those siblings killed can be the end of an inherited organization.
— ❀ —
When she was younger, she never got the meaning of gangsters. It hadn’t hit her then till she got older.
No one wanted to be friends with Olka because of her upbringing as a feigned criminal to the public. Ostanian families of the society (that always brag to have a clean slate when really, they did not) had always warned their kids to not go near Olka, as she had been bad news.
Rumors of her spread to their neighbors and their colleagues like a wildfire. Olka had known she’d reach popularity status by the instant she walked into a department store one day—all eyes and chatter had been on her.
Stay away from her! was one Olka heard as she was peacefully buying makeup. She would have thrown the eyeliner she had in her possession back then when she had the chance.
Her family are shitloads of dirty criminals was another she heard at the bakery across the street from one of their hideouts. Really, that’d been a good laugh!
And growing up, Olka didn’t even have the time to breathe. Multiple people had been already on her like leeches.
She may have been heir to one of the notorious gangs in the country, but she was just a child when this gossip had all started.
And the State Security Service? Olka didn’t even know where to start explaining. It’s as if the Ostanian government’s administration is watching her every move. It didn’t matter which government organization was watching her, whether it would be the Berlint Police, the Ostanian Armed Forces, hell, even the Western agents dispatched to the east—
She’s a Gretcher and there was no lie that she’s always been on the national and international defense force’s radar, regardless of what she does.
Olka would shrug it off and move on with cautiousness. One wrong move and her family could be in big trouble. And in this life, she is nothing but wary of those around her.
Such is a life of a gangster .
— ❀ —
The Gretcher family didn’t just reign the underworld for eons–they were influential. With their stance in the underworld, they play a part in keeping order in the underworld with other families.
It had consisted of a traditional ranking that’s treated with such cruciality. Abstaining the importance of order and treating the superiors to the side was the equivalent of death.
The rankings consisted of associates and commoners, rebels, captains, and directors of a unit. A whole troop, a possible fleet even of underground criminals.
The notorious Gretcher family even managed to have ties with those part of the underworld. It had been for diplomacy and to negotiate contracts on the middle ground.
In the Gretchers list of allies, it had included the underworld’s assassins syndicate: Garden.
She’d hear her Nanna Gwen say it, she hear her father say it, and those affiliated with the criminals had said it too. But coming from the Boss of the Underworld himself had hit different for Olka.
“In the Underworld,” Gram had repeats one time to her, “Trust is all that matters.”
It hadn’t been the Garden and other underground organizations the Gretcher’s kept ties with as far as Olka knew. It had also been the underground organizations in Westalis as well.
Just like Ostania’s Underworld—Westalis had one for their own too located in the west of the capital, coined as Bonne’s Sunken City.
Everyone in the underworld had their own agenda. Maybe jobs in Ostania’s public sector had been difficult to find. Maybe they wanted to find a brotherhood or a sisterhood they could call family. Olka had only remembered Nanna Gwen telling her an influx of members swearing into the crime family gangs had spiked after the war.
Many Ostanians have been displaced, the economy plummeted, and the poor strives to find a way to put food on their table.
There had been numerous crime families scattered across Berlint for their gang network, but the Gretchers have been the cherry on top. From money laundering to gang war participations, bribery from brokers and murder when necessary was the daily life of an active gangster. Active gangsters tended to make a name for themselves or try to make a few or more hundred dalcs.
Their headquarters are located right beneath Berlint and it was tokened as Berlint’s Underground . And that place was where the main crime network was located.
Also known as Ostania’s Underworld, it had been a literal underworld under the cities of Ostania. Its area stretched miles from the north of Shellbury, piercing through to the heart of Berlint, and down south to East Nielsberg to finish it off.
It’d been half the size of Ostania for criminal network.
The cities underneath had been discovered shortly after the war and the crime families had made very good use of such land beneath the surface. It was where gang fights, bets and gambling, illegal activity, and everything for planning against the enemy goes there.
It had been a place where criminals seek ephemeral refuge from the country’s government forces coming after them.
It was no doubt the masterminds of the Underworld have been making a name for themselves, domestically. The State Police were known for getting to the bottom of things regardless when it came to their reputation and they didn’t want it ruined.
They had even tried to send some of their officers to infiltrate and spy on the crime world, but none of the moles planted in the subterranean cities made it out of the literal Underworld alive.
They’re dispatched before they can even reach the surface.
To come in, gangsters have to enter in the subway where there’s secret doors camouflaging amongst the walls. There’s also a secret code to enter for them to know that they're working for Berlint’s Underworld. They’d change it up every now and then to be safe and to not leave trails.
One moment it’d be the subway. Other times, it could be abandoned hideouts in the basement. It’d be unpredictable.
The same way those in the elite above tighten their security to make sure adversaries stay out, gangsters beneath the cities do cunningly the exact same thing.
Just like any other organization, whether it’d be legal or illegal, there are underworld moles planted from the State Police to the government for gangsters specializing in undercover operations.
It had been a race of who gets to who first.
— ❀ —
Family was important and there was no bad blood between the siblings compared to other crime families. Usually in other mobs, there had been multiple assassination attempts, blackmailing, and other conspiracies that ring Olka’s ear.
The Gretchers, despite being mobsters, were not like those families.
The ideology of the Gretchers had always been family first. It’d switch up depending on who was head of the family, but Boss Gretcher made sure that belief stays true during his era of power.
But Gram Gretcher (not as boss , but as the father) with all his might, had tried to keep his kids out of their dirty business. Which had been truly ironic as the gang life had always found its way back to them.
There were tips and tricks even , from the family’s advisor as a study guide given to the eldest child. Because in organized crime families, those who are the eldest of the Boss’s are usually next-in-line.
And despite one of Gram’s kids taking over the wheel of it someday when he either steps down or gets killed, at least he’s done everything for them.
Not as head of the family, but as their father.
As much as his willpower holds, Gram Gretcher had wanted to give his kids a semblance of a normal life despite their heritage.
Olka had protective brothers—Paul Gretcher and Otto Gretcher. In short, there had been a total of three. And just like her, they were also influential of many sorts.
There would be times where Olka passed by their living room in their manor, and she’d stare up at this big painting that’d taken up half of the wall. She’d sometimes take a glance at the painting, sometimes she wouldn’t even recognize that she would be staring at it.
It would be of the late mother, Abigail Gretcher.
No matter what Olka does, or what Gram tries to prevent—the gang life will always be tied to them.
That’s why growing up, she’d been papa’s little princess. Gram Gretcher had been nothing but protective of his kids, especially his daughter.
Dad’s little girl.
— ❀ —
Olka was set to not have any children. She grew and it hit her to realize how scary it was to live as a gangster. She could die at any moment, any day really. Any second, even.
As her popularity and status soars, the number of her enemies gather to accumulate a number larger than before.
But it had all changed when she met her then husband—her highschool sweetheart.
Olka remembered seeing his brown hair and kind eyes for the first time. The first time she stepped into Berlint’s judgement school society with toxic cliques and school drama. Along the way, the rumors of Olka being a mafia’s daughter made headlines. In others eyes that laid on hers, people had looked at her in repulsion and disgrace as she walked the halls.
To him, he’d given Olka a welcoming smile. A simple gesture that made Olka feel welcome and not some outcast in one of their lectures where they’re classmates.
They’d known each other since the for a while. They’d gone to the same public high school, became friends, started dating, became her boyfriend, and all that.
The moment she got engaged to him. They were all there—both their families. Her entire family and set of friends like Zeb had been there. They weren’t too many, as per the norm of Ostanians loaded with money, but they were enough to her.
At that moment it had hit Olka.
He’d be a middle-class Ostanian marrying into a mafia family.
And of course, the mafia rules and regulations. Whoever marries into the family is necessary to keep the last name. Her Nanna Gwen has done it with her grandfather (the same way Olka’s fiancé is marrying into the family) and her mother Abigail has done it by marrying Gram, both individuals taking the Gretcher surname.
Power was important to establish command for the following generations, and it was important to do that to keep the name living on.
One evening the night before her wedding, Paul had caught Olka staring at their mother’s portrait. Whether it was in mourning or in ponder, Paul could only wonder unless he asked. But he figured the atmosphere had been too fragile for him to break it so he had only walk away till Olka called him.
“Hey, Paul?” Olka calls.
“Yeah?”
“How do you think mom would feel if she found out I’m getting married?”
Of course. Olka never tiptoed around the bush. She’d been frank and straightforward; that’s how she’s always been.
Olka’s always entertained the little thoughts of what it would be like if her mother had been here. If she hadn’t been slaughtered.
A woman can dream, right?
“Well for one, I’m sure she would be delighted. You know if mom were here, she’d be the one to make sure your wedding affairs are all in order,” Paul starts off. Olka knew better in asking Paul, and despite the air starting to become sentimental, he still kept his facade.
“She wouldn’t hire anyone to do your makeup but herself,” Paul had tried to make light of the atmosphere cause he knew that a mother missing a stepping stone in their child’s life was important.
Even if he tried to make light of it, it weighed so much on the three, especially Olka who was soon to be married. There were so many important milestones in the siblings life their mother will be missing from here on now.
It was tragic the way the world worked for everyone.
“Overall, though?” he stops, looking his sister in the eyes. He’d gently place his arm around her in support, to say that even if mom isn’t here, we are. “I’m sure she would be happy for you.”
The next day, she’d get ready for her wedding. An influx of emotions from Olka, her siblings, and finally, Gram for the event.
Her marriage had made news. It’d made headlines to those in similar groups of their trade. It’d made news amongst the gossipmongers of Ostania’s upper society.
The next time she’d pamper herself was when she prepares to get married. She’d done her own makeup with the guide of her late mother’s servant who’d stayed in the family for decades. And she’d remember seeing it from her mom when she was younger, too. She’s not sure if she got the exact routine, but it was better than nothing.
Luckily, her nanny that had been there all her life and during her mother’s initiation into the family was by her side.
“Your mother would love for you to wear this, Lady Olka,” she’d taken out a the finest diamonds string together in a cord. The Gretcher heirloom which was a bracelet dangles as she grabs the diamond necklace that was displayed on the case, untouched for what seem to be in years.
“She wore this on her wedding day. I remember the thrill of emotions she displayed as she got ready.”
When twenty-year-old Olka dressed up herself in the finest wedding gowns Ostania had offered, matched with the diamond necklace given from her mother, she was already ready.
“And I’m sure,” she says, removing the clasp and placing it around Olka’s neckline.
“She would love for you to wear it on your wedding day, too.”
Olka exits the room she was getting ready in, making her way down to the bottom where her brothers and father were waiting near the grand clock. She’d stop at the top of the staircase to ask her brothers and father (who were staring at her in awe along with the house servants), “How do I look?”
Otto had bit his lip back to not bawl that his only sister was already about to get betrothed. He had reached his hand out to her as Olka cascades down the stairs carefully, gracefully accepting his assistance. He’d fake-wipe a tear, thinking that his baby sister is now going to get married! as he helps her down the remainder of the stairs.
But Paul and Gram could only smile, feeling as if time had stopped right now. It hadn’t even hit them that the family’s princess was going to get married today.
For the slightest second, Olka expected them to not say anything at all and she’d been fine with it (the Gretchers were expressive in actions; Otto was a master in both actions and words), but what Paul had said almost caused her to join Otto’s fake-turned-real tearjerking session.
“Just like mom.”
— ❀ —
Today was the big day. Everything had been all in order and should be expected to go smoothly, according to Paul’s calculations. He had been the one to help Olka on the marriage ceremony, with Gram and Otto taking care of the reception.
Paul and Otto had been waiting near the big doors of the building, leaving the father-daughter duo to be in the car for their private moment (as the siblings had already done it prior).
With one last check before the big doors open for her arrival, she’d turn frantically to Gram, as he’d be the one to escort her down the aisle. “Dad! How do I look?”
“Y’know, Olka,” Gram starts off, fixing Olka’s veil that covers her face. She was so beautiful, Gram couldn’t believe he was already letting her go.
And Gram Gretcher wasn’t ready.
“I never talk about your mom because it just saddens me. Who knew that today would be the day her only daughter gets married and hell, she misses it?”
Olka felt like she knew where this was headed. She placed her reassuring hand that had one of the Gretcher’s heirloom that’s been passed on: a bracelet. Gram eyes had landed on the necklace Olka was wearing, blinking a tear that had been likely to fall.
“Dad…”
“I wouldn’t even need to be sad when I think of Gail and how I won’t be able to see her anymore.” Gail had been a nickname used only for those that knew her personally (and were liked by her). Everyone else had to call her Abigail or she would’ve been irritated.
Gram laughs, letting the good memories flow by, “You know pops is a mafioso , a crime boss. But he’s also a dad and a husband.” He’d stop, trying to refrain his tears from flowing. Gram had never let his emotions get to the best of him, he was a crime boss for heaven’s sake.
He’s not supposed to, not even an inch.
“Because every time I see you, I am reminded of what your mother has left me—her.”
Olka hadn’t said anything else. She takes in a sharp inhale before embracing Gram. Out of all places, she didn’t want to cry right now. But sentiments had always gotten to the best of her, the best of them.
The Gretchers have one weakness, and that has been sentiments.
— ❀ —
Everything changed when Olka gave birth years later. She still kept her expressive self but got stricter. It had been maternal instinct, she thinks.
With every push felt like her head was about to explode, and every scream she lets out feels like it hadn’t been enough. She had been in labor for the past several hours and the first thing Olka never expected to hear so soon had been a newborn’s cries .
“Congrats Miss and Mister Gretcher, it’s a boy. ”
Olka had only leaned her head back in the aftermath. Everything around her had been so fuzzy to her after giving birth she swore she knocked out.
She and her husband are already setting on naming their son Gram after her father. The first time Gram held his grandson, was the first time in years Olka had seen him be so overwhelmed with joy he was tearing up.
— ❀ —
Only at times Olka wished to relinquish the Gretcher name because she couldn’t take people talking behind her back anymore. Nearing the end of her childhood, it had turned her into someone she was truly not .
Gram, of course, had taken notice of Olka’s change of behavior and had brought it to light. He’d told her that she didn’t need to become a full-fledged gangster to prove herself. She didn’t need to be the underworld type to get a gangster’s respect if that was never truly her.
What Gram had told her as she evolved was to find herself . To show authenticity and her true colors.
Olka didn’t need to be someone she’s not. Since then, she stayed true to his ideal. Just being a Gretcher was more than enough.
— ❀ —
She’d remember at her wedding reception, the newlyweds had been the center of attention. The heart of the event. Olka’s husband is now initiated into the family as a mademan.
Otto had gone full-on out in this reception’s decorating, there was no doubt about it. Gram’s inner artiste had sparkled with assistance, but Otto’s had truly made his mark as the craftsman of their household.
Now, it had been time for the toast to the new couple. They’d kept this event exclusive, but it had been the talk of the neighborhood.
Paul, Gram, and Otto had taken the mic. Token of congratulations had been the usual here and there. Paul talks about best wishes for them and to take care of each other always. Paul knew how much his brother-in-law was nervous of this whole thing (and despite this reception being full of gangsters, that wasn’t Olka’s husband’s main problem) and had only wanted to assure him.
It had been Otto’s turn to welcome Olka’s husband into their family.
Otto had rambled on, even mentioning stuff Olka wished she could punch him for. He’d talk about the early days of their childhood to losing their mother a few years ago. He didn’t even give the time for Olka to think about their mother as he jumped from topic to topic.
But all speeches had to finish, and Otto’s was nearing the end. “…Promise to protect my sister at all costs, brother-in-law! Other than Paul and Pops , I put my sister in your trust! If you break your heart, I’ll make sure that I’ll have you walk across the bridge ,” he grins. Olka had shot daggers at him. Absolutely not, Otto Gretcher!
The gang term bridge had meant the “threat of death,” and he wasn’t playing around with that. Otto was the type to joke around the majority of the time, but half of those jokes were hidden threats. The brothers made sure to keep their word, having been extremely protective of her ever since he asked them for Olka’s hand in marriage.
“Even in death,” Gram finishes, cutting off Otto. Gram hadn’t said anything at all the whole time the brothers had been onstage till now. Gram didn’t even let Otto finish and was about to gain a big complaint from him, “You promise to take care of her. Because I know damn well that if I were to die today…”
“Your husband and brothers are going to take care of you.”
This lifestyle was not only given to her. Olka Gretcher also had the freedom to quit this life, too.
“We’ll be here for you till the very end,” was the last thing Gram told her.
Not many gangsters had this option, however. Had her brothers lived, she honestly would have stayed and let her brothers do all the work. Olka wouldn’t do anything directly with the mob business, but she’d do all she can to support her family from the sidelines.
“To the newlyweds!” Otto shouts, raising his glass. Everyone repeated with him, chanting to the newlyweds!
But her brothers were gone. Her father was gone, too. And just like that, there was no reason for her to continue on.
And her husband—she didn’t even know where to start. Olka must be the youngest widow ever-to-date from her now deceased family. He’ll never see his son grow up, say his first sentence, take his first step…
She had to live. She needed to.
If Olka couldn’t live for herself, then she had to do it for Gram.