Chapter two♤

Luka's POV

An unlit cigar dangles between my lips as my brother, Antonio goes through the plan.

There're two hitmen, our family consigliere, my two older brothers and of course my father, the Don. It's a typical Italian mafia set up when there's a problem. A very big problem that needs to be solved.

'Luka! Pay attention kid.' Sandrino snaps. 'If you don't kill the broad we're fucking screwed.'

My father glares at me silently but serious. I sit up, stop messing with the cigar and listen.

'Washington is no fool. He's got her heavily protected. She pulls up to school in a black SUV driven by ex-army everyday. You can't get within a foot near her. Unless of course...she lets you.So you're-'

'Why do we have to kill her?' I interrupt. Everyone stops and everything becomes quiet. They all look at me. Shit. 'Why don't we just kill Washington? She doesn't even know what the fuck her father does.'

'So you want out?' My other brother, Rafaello asks. I get along well with Raf, unlike Antonio. He understand that I'm not a really big fan of our "family business".

'I'll kill her. I just wanna know why it's not Washington receiving the bullet.'

My father hands me a cigar. Then he lights it for me. He's one of the most feared and powerful men in all of NYC. He's got political connections and other deeper darker ones. He's merciful but unforgiving. Perhaps the only people who aren't afraid of him are my mother and I.

'When Washington killed your brother, Carlo, he thought he maimed the Family. That we were weak. We are Italians Luka, we turn the other cheek. But the same book that tells us that also says an eye for an eye. And a tooth for a tooth. Right now we want Washington alive. For the piece of my heart that he took...I will rip his.'

***

The next day I wake up early and tired. My mind has been active with so many things. More questions than answers actually. I'm confused and nervous. Some part of this just doesn't fit right.

I take a long hot shower and get dressed for school.

Damn. I hate this St. John's uniform. I wear grey pants and a white smart shirt. I unbutton the first two buttons and neatly fold my sleeves. I don't do neckties. Or the good boy type. I open my drawer and pull out my gun.

It feels light and cold in my hands. This was Carlo's gun. It's a Glock G17 semi auto pistol. It's black and easy to handle.

I dump it in my bag.

Khalifa Washington. My target.

Do it fast. Make sure she's not discovered soon. We want Washington to think we've still got her so he doesn't make a move.

There's not much in my school bag but a pack of camel cigarettes, my gun, Pride and Prejudice and a jotter.

Downstairs mama makes breakfast for me with my sister, Sara. The rest are at work out of New York. They think its best to leave no suspicions or loose ends.

In the dinning room our family photo hangs on the wall. Mama, Papa, Carlo, Rafaello, Antonio, Me and finally Sara.

We all look so much alike with the same features. We're all of medium stature. Except Rafaello who's so tall. Clear olive skin, narrow and aquiline nose as well as dark black curly hair and dark blue eyes.

'How you feeling?' Sara asks me. I know how much she's wanted to be part of what we do. To help us out somehow. That's Sara. She's slender and pretty with long black hair. She doesn't wear dresses and skirts. She doesn't  do the damsel in distress. And she'd rather be the one holding Carlo's gun.

I shrug and gulp an entire glass of orange juice. I eat as much as I can and unlike Sara who looks at me with disgust, mama seems pleased.

After breakfast and telling myself the plan for the second time, I kiss mama goodbye and walk to the bus station with Sara. She gets on her bus and I wait for mine.

The St. John's school bus arrives two minutes after Sara's. I flash my student ID and get on. There aren't many kids on the bus.

As I get on I notice everyone watch me. Probably thinking...Who's the new guy?

There're a few whispers here and there. Some girls even smile at me. I smile back. But that's only because I'm thinking, I don't think you'd be doing that if you knew I was going to kill a girl.

As I was told, Khalifa Washington would not be on this ride.

I sit up front and listen to music from my beats headphones.

St. John's is a nice big school with freshly mowed lawns, strong principals and a lot of cool kids. Not my kind. I grew up with gangsters and the ghetto. I was brought up by the hood.

I pull out my timetable in the hallway and try to figure out where my first class could be.

'Hi!' Someone says. I look up. Some people.

Two girls stand in front of me with wide smiles. Both brunettes. One blue eyes, the other green eyes and both big jugs. Cheerleaders too.

'I'm Courtney.' Brunette 1 says.

'I'm Kim.' Brunette 2 says in the exact same voice. I'm waiting for them to say 'We're the Kardashians!'

I give them a lazy side smirk and they almost melt with glee. 'Nice to meet you ladies.'

'Need help with that?' Kim asks as she looks at my timetable.

'You really wanna help?' I pretend to be flattered. I had already figured out where I was supposed to be. Down the hall, first turn to my right, second door.

'Yeesss!!' They say in one voice and each take my side.

'Hmmm...let's see...English huh?' Courtney says.

'Down the hall.' Says Kim as we go down the hall.

'Then we turn here.' Courtney says as we take the first turn to the right.

'Not this door.' Kim says as we skip the first door.

'This one!' They both squeal as we stop at door number two.

'Wow. Thanks girls. I was gonna take the other turn.'

They glow with pride. 'Anyway see you later.'

'What? You're not gonna stay with me?' I tease.

'We have French. Don't get lost!' They say as they walk away.

'Au'revoir.' I wink at them.

I walk in my English class. Again the attention is pulled to me. The girls' interested glares and the boys' curious stares. I glare back too. But I'm looking for one face in my mind. Rafaello said my classes were arranged so they were the exact same as Khalifa's. So naturally, she was supposed to be here right? But I don't see our little black diamond anywhere.

There's only one empty seat at the back of the class. I'm glad it's there, a little bit isolated from everyone. I take my seat there and doodle in my jotter until the teacher comes in.

Mrs Watts is a tall, thin, old woman. She's got black hair with strands of silver that's in a simple French plait. She's wearing a long beige dress with a brown cardigan, a pearl necklace, black leggings and black flats.

She scribbles Romeo and Juliet on the board. 'I know my assignment is completed otherwise you would not be a fool as to sit in my class and waste my time pretending you have.'

The class is completely silent. She does not look any cheerful or bright. Actually if she were a man I would've thought she's none other than professor Snape.

'Five page report. You will each summarise it in front of the class.' Her eyes dart to me. 'Apart from this fine young man who has been so kind as to join us. 'She stretches one bony arm to me. I sit up and look at her.

'Rise young man.' She says. I stand up as straight as I can. 'Please be sure to attend all English lessons with a necktie and buttoned collar next time.'

'Yes...ma'am. Yes ma'am.'

'Who are you?'

'Lukas King madam.'

'I did not ask for your name child. I asked who you are.'

I frown in confusion and try to answer. 'I-'

'Never mind! No one really knows who they truly are anyway. Sit Mr Sandrino.'

Shit.

Everyone in the class looks at me. I hear people asking, ' Sandrino? As in, Sandrino Sandrino?' People look at me different now. Everyone listens to the news. And it begins to make sense now. Black hair, olive skin, slight accent...He's a Sandrino.

Thanks a lot Mrs Watts. Now everyone knows I'm connected to the mafia. Where the fuck is that girl anyways?

'Now. Who would love to break this terrible ice and set the ball rolling huh? Wesley?' Mrs Watts says. Her prey is a fat chubby boy who seems so absent minded he almost looks dead. He snaps back to class nervously. I feel sorry for the poor chap. He hardly looks ready. And just as he's about to stand up, the door violently bursts open.

It's her.

____________________________________

I was today's years old when I just found out that I have Arachibutyrophobia. Don't be lazy just look it up. Hint: it has something to do with peanut butter.

Anyway hope y'all happy and safe♡ from @Ali_bee