Mafia High

Chapter 2: Gia

“Mi raccomando!" Maria, my best friend, scolded from the other side of the closed door. “I'm leaving you behind if the clock ticks another minute and your booshi ass isn't out here."

I stepped from the bathroom, my expression and words making my feelings clear for the millionth time.

“Leave me. I don't want to go. Mannaggia tua!" s**t damn was my favorite saying and if Maria was bringing out her Italian, accent and all, I could too. I crossed my arms and resisted the need to stomp my foot.

“You promised," she whined, her hands flaring out around her in danger of removing an eye, to gesture her displeasure in the appropriate Italian manner.

I gave her quirky, sexy outfit a sweep. It was totally Maria Greco with wild slashes of red through the black material. The dress, cut on the bias, whatever that meant, wrapped her curves perfectly with a sassy flare at her hips. She knew exactly how to show off her short voluptuous frame and give it every advantage. She kept her dark-brown hair in a strategic chop around her face. Her eyes appeared larger with the strikingly bladed hair. Maria was a knockout and she knew it.

My brown hair remained long which was dictated by my father. My future husband, whoever that would be, would want long, silky, and alluring hair with minimal makeup targeted to highlight my large brown eyes, full lips, and above all, family features. My husband should never forget the blood that ran through my veins.

I was the Rossi princess.

Maria's life wasn't mapped out. She had choices and I hated her for every single one of them.

That hate wasn't a problem between us. Maria understood why I felt as I did. I loved her far more than I hated her world of options. Our friendship was a quandary and right now she was a bigger thorn in my side than usual and that said a lot.

I pulled my hair over one shoulder and leaned a hip against the bathroom doorjamb, preparing to battle.

“You cheated and you know it," I said, reminding her of the deck of cards she rigged when I wasn't paying attention.

“Che palle," she groaned, using her favorite Italian which meant “what balls" without denying she cheated. “I win, you go with me. You win, I stay home and be bored by you."

The cards landed in her favor. It was best two out of three. She won two straight. It wasn't until she left the room that my brain questioned what happened. I went through the deck and it was stacked. I'd been conned.

She rolled her eyes when I continued my defiant stare and said nothing.

“Of course, I cheated, mi amica." She wasn't my sister but knew it softened me when she said it. Maria added a pathetic smile and blinked her eyes in innocence. I swear she worked on this look in the mirror along with her sexy ones. “You never go anywhere except class or the nerd coffee shop."

By “nerd" she meant the freshmen sophomore coffee house, Wired Youth. The academy provided the Upper-Class Den for juniors and seniors. Freshmen and sophomores grabbed the coffee house in town as their own. I liked their hangout even if it was smaller and not nearly as luxurious as the UCD. The underclassmen didn't bother me and I could easily ignore their whispers. Once I sat in my favorite spot and opened a book, I could relax and enjoy the expensive coffee while I pretended to be a normal teen. Which I was not.

Normal is not in the cards for me. I'm a Rossi and so far above normal, it hurts to think about it. Maria's family has served mine for eight generations. As a female, she had choices that I don't have. My marriage will align another family with ours. The practice is archaic and I will do my duty because, and here it comes again. I am Rossi.

Maria wants to be a clothing designer. I have no doubt she will get there; she's already amazing and talented as tonight's outfit reflected. The problem is Maria doesn't do wallflower and she made my outfit so I would be forced to come out of my shell just by wearing it.

“You are not getting out of this." Her hands went to her hips and the look in her eyes startled me.

It said she would drag me kicking and screaming if she had to.

“I hate you," I said with a groan of acceptance.

“I hate you too," she shouted after I slammed the door in her face.

I glared at the barely-there dress that hung from the shower rod. It was sexy and gorgeous, everything I was not. I was pretty. Just pretty and I liked it that way.

The vampish look was not for me. My heart jumped when Maria's hand hit the door with a loud thud.

“Put it on so I can see. It will be perfect, I promise. I covered all your bits and I know you will be gorgeous in it. It's made just for you."

Her weaseling was pushing me in the “try" direction. I closed my eyes and took a breath.

I never wanted this life and never wanted to be a Mafia princess. The academy was created for us. The Mafia elite, the next generation of death, the continuation of darkness that only gets more terrifying. I was born into this world and loathed it. No woman should be sold into marriage, but tell that to my father. I wasn't the son he wanted to seal the deal after my older brother was born but I had another use. I would add security. He and my unassuming mother groomed me to be quiet and watchful so I could give my father information about the family I married into.

I've been raised to spread my legs for the highest bidder when the time came. Until then, my legs would remain closed and my virginity intact as per my father's order. He never minced words or cared that the embarrassment darkened my face to the point of a stroke when he told me. He then reminded me of my Rossi heritage like always.

“You will do your duty as a Rossi," he intoned in his harsh voice, then waved his left hand for me to leave his office.

That joke is on him and the other fathers who think they controlled the young virgin princesses. Most here cared nothing about their virginity. s*x happened in every dark corner of Rochester's sanctified halls.

We, the children of murderers, were protected, even from our own families. The staff understood who they were dealing with and kept silent. The secrets at Rochester stayed behind the walls forever.

Maria's brother graduated the year before we started Rochester. He never uttered a word about what happened even though we hounded him endlessly before our first day. It was actually strange because he loved gossip as much as Maria, but he spilled nothing. We were only told the academy was designed to give us four years to grow and learn our place within the family.

Our eyes were opened the first day. We were in a practice session of life where viciousness was considered a virtue. The only thing off the table was death and taking the virginity of a princess. Students were okay with abiding by fifty percent of the rules. No one died was held dear because no one wanted to suffer the consequences of breaking that rule or standing in front of the man who decided your fate if you did kill or harm a student permanently. There had been a few close calls. Or so says Maria, my personal rumor mill. I kept my head low and tried to stay off everyone's radar. On those rare instances that someone crossed the line, the academy locked us down.