Suddenly, a smiling guy with curly dark chestnut hair and piercing green eyes peeked in from behind the door. His curls framed his face, and there were some freckles on his skin. He resembled a brunette, except for his distinctive eyes. I had definitely never seen him in this school before. Was he the newest of the new?
"Brand new newcomer? Can that even be true?" I thought to myself. I felt sparks of irritation shooting from the brunette girl to the stranger.
"What are you doing here?!" she asked with an icy tone. Her disapproval was evident. The guy entered the classroom and grinned widely. He was wearing a black hoodie, matching black pants with multiple pockets, and crisp white sneakers. He was handsome, impossible to miss.
"Little sister, are you not pleased to see me at all?" he sarcastically inquired.
"Little sister?" I mentally echoed. It caught me off guard, and I stopped staring at a fixed point. The guy shifted his gaze to me and asked, "Demi, are you planning a murder in front of me?"
The mafiosa narrowed her eyes, huffed, and crossed her arms, casting a glance at me.
"Demi?" I echoed again. These words trapped me in a corner. Who were they? What was their relationship? Why was there no one else around? Why was I here? Among assassins! Oh no, I didn't want any trouble.
"What are you doing here?" the brunette asked.
"The same as you," the guy replied with a nonchalant tone. I was truly surprised by his demeanor. Didn't he know who she was? Or did he, in fact?
"I'm here to study, and you're not!" she grumbled.
"Unfortunately, you're mistaken. From today, I'm also a student here," he casually shrugged.
"Did you purposely choose the class where I study?" she started to get angry.
"No, I chose this class because I like it," the guy shrugged again.
"Like it, huh?" the brunette rolled her eyes. "Then tell me, what do you like about it?"
"Well..." the brunette guy looked around. "It's comfortable here."
"Whatever," the mafiosa scoffed. "Anything else?"
"Because my favorite little sister is studying here," he smiled. It seemed cute to me, but not to the mafiosa. She approached the guy, and in an instant, a small scratch appeared under his eye. He winced and stepped back from her. I stared at this spectacle in shock.
"If you try to get close to me, I promise you'll be a corpse," the girl glared at the guy angrily and quickly left the classroom. I walked up to him and asked, "Are you okay?" There was a wound on his cheek, and it was bleeding. Crimson-red liquid began to drip from it. "You're bleeding."
The curly-haired guy looked at me and smiled. For a second, it seemed like the sun had come out. He looked towards the exit and wiped the blood with his sleeve. The brunette bit her lip and looked like she was lost in thought.
"Why shouldn't everything be okay? Whenever she gets angry or doesn't like something, it's always like this. I'm used to it," the guy finally answered me. He got hit so suddenly, and he's already used to it? What absurdity! But why did she hit him? That's what interested me more.
"By the way, who are you?" he asked me, seemingly seeing me for the first time, even though that was true. I had never seen this guy before, and he hadn't seen me either.
"I'm Julian Carter," I mumbled and handed him a damp tissue. Blood had smeared on the guy's cheek. Of course, I wasn't a doctor to determine his blood type, but I was sure that this small scratch would lead to a ton of gossip.
"Thanks... wait... Carter?" the guy asked. Let it be Carter, let them perceive me as Carter.
"Yes, and you?" For some reason, this brunette didn't seem as cold-blooded or hypocritical, and most importantly, not like Luke.
"I don't have to tell you anything," he hissed, trying to feign indifference. But then he stopped. "Although...," the brunette chewed on her lip, looking at me, and blurted out, "I'm Grace, Grace Mort."
The brunette guy sat in the chair in front of me. I knew whose place that was and wanted to warn him, but Mort looked so happy. It was Josephine's spot, and she didn't like it when someone else, a stranger, occupied her seat.
"By the way, do you know the girl who hit you?" I tried to change the subject, imagining the redhead coming and preparing for a confrontation.
"Of course, how could I not know her?" he scoffed.
"Why did you call her your sister? Do you have such customs?" I added just in case.
"What do you think? We even share a surname," he snorted.
"You really..." A lot of thoughts swirled in my head, and I didn't know which one to voice first.
"Yes, I'm also from the mafia. Do I look that old?" the last sentence was clearly aimed at himself.
"Are you her father?" I stared at him, cringing. What did I just blurt out?! Father?!
"No, are you foolish? I'm her stepbrother, Demi's half-brother."
"So, her name is Demi?"
Oh, you didn't know that? Didn't she come in halfway through the class and say, 'I blah-blah-blah,' and so on?"
"No, she's from the mafia. Everyone knows her..." With these words, I paused. In reality, I didn't really know her. Can one word, "mafia," explain her whole character?
"I can see that everyone else knows, except you," Grace giggled and shifted in his chair. It gave the impression that he's a good guy: cheerful, funny, somewhat disdainful, and seemingly friendly. Not like his sister. Although we'll have to wait and see.
"Yeah, not interested in that," I rubbed my neck.
"Interesting, you're a human."
"Me?" I pointed at my chest with a finger. Grace nodded and chuckled.
"Do you see anyone else here besides us?" He scanned the classroom. "It's strange that you weren't afraid of my sister. That surprises me. Honestly, few dare to look her in the eyes, let alone talk to her."
"But why?"
"Listen, either you're a fool, or I'm really on edge today," the brunette frowned. "Mafia means mafia. Look it up on the internet if you don't know. My little sister isn't just the head of her own mafia, but she can temporarily take control of our father's mafia too."
"The head?" I asked. "Is that possible? I read that only men become bosses."
"Clearly, you're a bookworm. How much do you actually know?" This was starting to sound like annoyance.
"Enough," I replied shortly. "So, what?"
Please note that the names "Demi" and "Grace" are used interchangeably in the text, so I maintained this inconsistency in the translation. If you'd like a more consistent translation, please provide the correct names.