Even though the Gurin Bratva is in Boston, they opened the door to the Estrada Cartel by pledging to buy our drugs only, allowing the family to move to Chicago. It led to the worst night of my life. The night we left Mexico. I shake my head, trying to push away the painful memories.
Ever since I learned a Gurin attended this academy, I vowed I’d make her life hell from day one, and that’s exactly what I did. That hatred has morphed and changed over the years, getting more twisted and darker the older I got.
“It’s a long story,” I say.
He nods, as Damien always knows when to push or not. “Fair enough. We don’t want to be late on our first day with Luigi.” He gives me a pointed look. “The guy still scares the shit out of me, even now I’m a senior. Don’t tell Aleks or Nik, though.”
I clap him on the back, laughing. “I think he scares most of the students here, including Aleks.”
We walk into the classroom, where most of the students have already taken their seats a few minutes before the start of class. Damien and I always sit at the back, but we both notice the new kid sitting in my seat, of all places. I glance at Damien and give him the nod, which tells him to have my back.
I march up to the desk and everyone turns quiet, watching us. “You’re sitting in my seat,” I say, cracking my knuckles.
The kid gives me a cocky glance and then returns his attention to his cellphone. “I don’t see names on the seats.”
I clench my jaw and grab the lapel of his shirt, pulling him half-way out of his seat. “Listen to me, you piece of shit. This is my seat. Get the fuck out of it before I chuck you out.”
He smirks, blue eyes sparking with danger. “I’d like to see you try.” He grabs my wrist and frees himself, adjusting his shirt and sitting back down with his arms crossed over his chest. “Find another seat.”
I don’t know who the fuck this kid thinks he is, as I walk to his side and yank him right out of it.
He glares into my eyes, daring me to make a move.
“Who the fuck do you think you are, newbie?” I growl.
He shrugs. “Rizzo Bianchi,” he replies, looking unfazed by my actions. “Now let go of me, before I make you.”
Anger coils through me at this guy’s fucking audacity, but I get the sense he can handle himself. Instead of finding out, I let go of his collar and shove him aside. “You find another seat,” I say.
Before I can register, he grabs my shoulder and pulls me around, landing a hard punch to the jaw. “Motherfucker,” I growl, launching at him and tackling him to the ground. My fists pummel his face, but he just smirks with each hit, laughing.
Everyone gasps, and I know it’s not because of the fight. A heavy crack sounds, which signals Luigi just entered the fucking room and has a hold of his whip. My spine stiffens as I stand straight, realizing I look like the instigator since I was the one on top of Rizzo and punching the shit out of him.
“Back away from him, Morales,” Luigi says.
I swallow hard and follow his orders, as even I’m not insane enough to stand up to that sadist.
“Get up, Mr. Bianchi,” he orders.
Rizzo has a busted lip and his eye is already turning black as he stands, glaring at me.
“Explain what happened.”
I open my mouth to speak, but Luigi cuts me off.
“Not you. I want to hear it from Rizzo.”
Rizzo shrugs. “A disagreement, sir.”
“Mutual?” Professor Luigi asks.
He nods in response. Clearly he’s no snitch. “Yeah, just a mutual disagreement.”
“Fine, both of you sit down. I’ll deal with you later.” Luigi doesn’t look like he believes Rizzo as he narrows his eyes at me.
Rizzo sits in my seat again, looking cocky as he gives me a knowing look.
I grind my teeth and take my seat elsewhere, hating that the new kid forced me to back down in front of everyone. If it weren’t for the professor arriving when he did, I’m sure I would have forced him to back down. Although, the way he laughed when I hit him repeatedly makes me wonder how much pain he can take.
“What the fuck is with that guy?” Damien whispers as he takes the empty desk next to me.
I shrug. “No idea, but at least he didn’t grass me up to Luigi.” I can’t deny that anyone gutsy enough to stand up to me on his first day deserves my respect.
“True,” Damien replies, opening his text book.
“Today, we’re going to learn about the parts of the body that inflict the most pain.” The look in professor Luigi’s eyes is one of pure sadistic joy at announcing that. He’s a fucking crazy son of a bitch, who everyone fears being punished by, even me. Although I wouldn’t admit it out loud. “Please turn to page seventy-six in your textbook.”
I thumb my way through the pages detailing archaic ritual torture and killings. It’s hard to believe that these kinds of books exist, but the mainstream have buried them. Only the Syndicate Academy would be fucked up enough to unearth them.
I sit back and tune out the humdrum of the lesson, since I hardly need to learn anymore than my family taught me about torture. The cartel is renowned for creativity with our victims.
My mind wanders to thoughts of my pretty little pet, and I hate myself for it. It makes my stomach churn as the girl I’ve hated more than anyone else has morphed into an obsession I can’t scrub from my mind. An obsession can be a dangerous thing, even if it is born out of deep rooted hatred.