Deymi suddenly seized the boy's tie with an explosive burst of energy, tilting his face towards hers with audacious confidence. An invisible tension crackled through the air, reminiscent of an electric charge. In an instant, they appeared locked in an intimate embrace, caught up in an unspoken dance of intense emotions. It was as if their hearts synchronized, causing a moment of silence, during which Marchelo Vesper's countenance displayed a curious blend of apprehension and fascination.
"Listen," she spoke with an icy coolness that seemed to emanate from her very core, "you seem to have forgotten who you're dealing with." Her words carried a weight of authority. "The first rule of human interaction: don't challenge someone stronger than you." She gave him a decisive push. "Avoid appearing superior to your opponent, or you'll end up a pitiable pup. My pup. One I'll command for various purposes. Do you understand the concept of obedience?"
With a swift motion, she distanced Marchelo from herself, her demeanor unyielding. His face still bore a mixture of surprise and resentment. For a moment, they exchanged gazes, and then he spoke, his voice now tinged with an air of calm explanation.
"Perhaps my explanation wasn't thorough enough," he stated, as if offering an olive branch. Yet, before he could continue, Grace stepped in, her patience worn thin by her sister's prolonged interaction and the delayed moment when her sister's words would finally reach the ears of the school's unofficial ruler.
"Good Lord, hasn't it dawned on him yet?" Grace's voice dripped with a nonchalant drawl as she strolled up to her sister and leaned casually on her shoulder. "Sis, look at him. The fans weren't mistaken; everything's unfolding just as the stories say. Only, why aren't his eyes filled with sorrow?" Mort's voice chimed in, dripping with mockery. "And why don't I have the desire to hug and kiss you? No, things don't quite work that way." Laughter rippled from somewhere in the crowd, but it swiftly subsided under Marchelo's piercing gaze.
"Who are you people?" The brunette's voice held an edge, a challenge in the face of uncertainty. "Someone care to enlighten me on why these henchmen suddenly released their grip?"
"Be-caaause," one of the guys, who had been tasked with gathering gifts, stammered as he approached Vesper, "I apologize... I should have warned you... this is... this is Morti's daughter and son, you know, from the Mafia Morti."
"Mafia Morti?" Vesper echoed, his eyes locking onto the Mortis. An initial flicker of fear crossed his features, quickly replaced by a determined resolve.
"And, what of it? Do you all think that just because you've arrived, everything will conveniently fall into place?"
"Well, this is a turn of events," Vesper replied, a faint smirk playing on his lips.
"So, are you planning to depart or not?" I exclaimed, all eyes suddenly on me. I flushed, feeling the weight of their attention.
"Ah, there you are," Grace grinned and turned to the brunette. "Just remember to bare your teeth when the streetlights fail you." His laughter echoed, reaching my ears as he walked over to me.
Deymi released her grip and issued a pointed warning. "And as for the puppy, you may come to regret it." She turned away with a regal stride, trailing behind Grace.
And now, recall the moment when you pleaded with the Mortis to steer clear of trouble. Strangely, their failure to heed your request irked me, and I spent the entire walk to the cafeteria scolding them. But Mortis will be Mortis, and no apologies were forthcoming from them.
Settling into our customary spots, we began to eat. Mrs. Mort took her leave to fetch something, disregarding her son's offer to assist. At first, a silence hung over us as we replayed the events of a few minutes ago. But then, Mort exploded.
Hey, sorry about that, buddy! That jerk was acting so full of himself that I couldn't just walk by! The guy slammed his fork down onto the tray so hard that the tomatoes and chili went flying.
Why do you have to get involved? - I whispered sharply.
I... well... I... - the brunette stuttered, trying to say something. He stumbled upon the ring on my finger and mumbled, - I need to tell you something, but...
Grace! - I exclaimed, but then the boy's expression changed.
Damn it! What the hell... - he muttered, venom in his voice like a snake. I turned my head and noticed the king's group. A swarm of other students followed them. The king himself stood in the entrance, observing something... or rather, someone. I followed his gaze and caught sight of Grace's sister. She was calmly selecting yogurts, oblivious to everyone around her. Amidst the chaos, one thing was clear: he was interested in her. He was here for a reason.
What are you talking about? - Deymi casually asked as she joined us.
Don't you think this piece of trash is sitting a little too close for comfort? - Mort asked, looking angrily at Vesper, behind my back.
What? - the mafia girl asked, surprised, and then glanced in that direction. Her face turned to stone. - Mhm, psycho.
After a couple of minutes, Grace spoke up again.
"Listen, Deymi, why is he staring at you like that?" - I couldn't hold back and looked around. Green eyes met mine, but they weren't focused on me, rather past me. - "Maybe we should teach him a lesson?"
"Pay no attention to him," - his sister hissed and continued eating. The turmoil around her seemed to be of no concern. Her indifference sometimes fascinated me, but right now, it was her calmness and composure that surprised me.
"Well, it won't be that way!"
"Grace, calm down! "- I exclaimed, but it was too late.
"Hey, angel, why the sour face?" - he barked at the king. The king ignored him, still staring at his sister.
Suddenly, a vibration sounded. We all turned our heads to Deymi.
"It's for me, "- she said, taking her phone out of her pocket. A smile appeared on her face. - "Hello...? Yes, it's me, hi! ... That's odd... then it's settled... I could get used to that in a few minutes."
"Where are you going?" - Mort asked. I was the only one who noticed how Deymi's eyes lit up.
They've arrived, I'm meeting them now.
"The Young Mafia?" - I asked.
"Yes, you guessed it. They brought a contract from some company, I need to review it," - her tone turned business-like. She grabbed a snack and quickly turned, taking her phone from the table. But then, a male voice spoke up.
"Oh, and where do you think you're going, mafia princess?" - both Grace and I turned our heads towards Deymi. She stopped just in time, or she would've bumped into the school's king. There was a malicious gleam in his eyes, and his lips curled into a sly smile. I was surprised how he managed to approach without us noticing. And what's with that strange nickname? Mafia princess? He was really close, and it seemed like the mafia girl wanted to get away from him as quickly as possible.
"What do you want?" - she uttered with a stony expression.
"Normally, my people keep me updated on who's doing what - troublemakers. But it's quite a challenge to reach you. "- He leaned towards her neck. -" Since someone managed to hack the cameras in my office. Plus, I wanted to ask you how it feels to humble a king and then leave triumphantly, huh?"
"Who knows, maybe overthrowing the king or even killing him would be sweeter than just humiliating him?" - Mrs. Mort hit the mark with that retort. Marchelo's face twisted into a grimace of anger.