Being Nixon Abandonato’s oldest daughter had its perks. I mean, I should at least get something for being the daughter of one of the Cosa Nostra’s most powerful mob bosses. At sixteen, he let me pick out whatever car I wanted, and when I say whatever car, I mean—in the world.
And because I knew that it would piss Junior off and I lived for his constant scowls in my direction… I asked for the new Maserati Gran Turismo MC, the exact same car he got the year before only better because mine was newer.
Swear every time I drove it, he wanted to purposefully get me into an accident.
This day was no different.
Day one of hell.
Day one of my senior year at Eagle Elite.
Just like it was Junior’s.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. In fact, we had been told repeatedly when we grew up that we could go to college wherever we wanted. Could have whatever life we wanted—as long as we swore our loyalty to the Five Families of the Cosa Nostra, we’d be good.
They refused to tell us what it actually was, but I’ll never forget the look on my dad’s face that day as he placed a small white toy horse in the middle of the kitchen table and whispered, “We have to talk.”
And this time, we had no idea who the snitch was or who wanted us dead, which meant I had to say goodbye to Stanford. I’d only been there a year, and for the first time in my life, I hated the mafia for taking that away from me.
We all transferred to Eagle Elite, the university the Five Families of Chicago owned—the one place we would be safe.
We had no choice.
The dads, the bosses, whatever you wanted to call them, decided they’d been too easy on us anyway, that we wouldn’t survive in this world if we didn’t know how to rule it.
Part of me wondered if they used that as an excuse, so they didn’t terrify us with what was coming.
Either way, it had been a hard lesson.
I shuddered, recalling that first day.
It was a lesson I never wanted to remember but was forced to relive every single time I saw Junior kiss another girl, every time he watched me flirt with other guys and invite them to drive my car.
I ignored the goosebumps that erupted all over my body when I thought about that day, the day it all went to hell.
The day I was forced to ignore my heart, ignore the blood that pumped through my veins, and recognize that it had never been mine in the first place.
His. My dad’s. The Boss of the Abandonato Family.
I gripped the steering wheel with my red leather gloves and hit the accelerator, wondering what it would feel like to just run right into that tree; my dad would be so pissed. We weren’t allowed to go out that way; it was blood in, no out for the rest of our lives.
The mafia refused to let you die until it said you could.
And I was no different.
I could feel Junior’s car on my ass; I hit my brakes as dirt puffed up around my back tires. He swerved and pulled out to the right so that both our cars were side by side.
I rolled down my window. “Junior, you know texting and driving is a crime punishable by ticket, right?”
He stared me down and then very slowly lifted his hand and showed me a middle finger. “Says the princess who tries to put on lipstick with one hand while stuffing her bra with the other.”
Heat rushed to my face. I would kill him one day.
Unfortunately, today was not that day.
“Cute, Junior, it’s almost like you don’t remember how much you fumbled with these.” I weighed my breasts in my hands. “Then again, if I were you, I would try to forget all those awkward moments too. What was it that one time? Five seconds? What a record!” I slow-clapped.
His smile was cruel but so beautiful I ached. Straight white teeth, a small dimple on the right corner, jet black hair, and teal eyes. “You’re forgettable. That’s not my fault, is it?”
Maybe I would murder him today. It wasn’t like anyone would blink an eye at me. Then again, he was the heir to the Nicolasi crime family. Ugh, why did he have to be important? And why the hell had I ever allowed him to see me naked on numerous occasions?
“See you in class, princess.” He sped past me.
I followed, slower this time, maybe because I thought this year would be different. This year things would be…normal.
I almost laughed out loud. Right, when has my life ever been normal? I was basically born with blood on my hands. I would die the same way.
At least I had a nice car and unlimited cash. There were worse things in life than being forced to work with your ex-boyfriend and cousins at Eagle Elite.
Oh, it looked like we were just average college students, but everyone, including the faculty, knew the truth, knew who our parents were.
Who ran the world?
The Five Families.
The Chicago mafia.
Crime syndicate.
Whatever you wanted to call it.
We were it.
It… owned us.
Talk about it… and you might just get killed.
Brag about it, you’re already dead.
A freshman last year was found hanging outside his dorm room with the word “rat” spray-painted across his chest.
The faculty said it was a suicide and told his parents he was depressed—but we all knew the truth.
It’s not like I pushed him anyway.
Ash always did the dirty work, not me.
Junior spray-painted it across the kid’s chest.
Breaker pushed.
And I took a picture for my social media.
Because that kid could have gotten our family killed, or worse, in trouble, and blood protects blood. And he was bragging about having intel on our families. It didn’t matter that he had nothing—what mattered was that we still had enemies, and I would do everything to protect my blood.
We had to warn people that this wasn’t some sort of social experiment. This wasn’t a reality show. And this wasn’t a TikTok you could just go viral with.
This was our lives. And the fact that we let anyone live by our sides meant that they had to follow the rules… and follow us.
The idea was this: make sure that the world around the University understood how dangerous you were—as individuals and as a group—and then make sure that they followed our rules, which created fear. And that fear seeped into the students’ friends, families, and the most influential people in the known world, because—newsflash—those were the only people allowed in the University. This fear then trickled quite joyfully down the line until everyone in power understood that the Five Families of Chicago were here to stay, and there wasn’t jack shit anyone could do about it.
I used to hate that it would eventually put me in the spotlight, eventually force me to put on a mask that said fuck the world—I ran it, but now... now it just felt like putting on a fresh coat of lipstick and fluffing my hair.
All in a day’s work.
Who ran the world?
Us.
I pulled into a parking spot next to Junior and waited while Ash’s Tesla pulled up behind me at least four minutes later.
He got out of the car and wrapped an arm around his girlfriend Claire and my cousin Izzy, his twin. Sometimes she rode with me, but she’d told me that her dad put her on spy duty, so she was the bad cold they couldn’t get rid of.
It’s not like Izzy would stop them from having all the sex; Claire and Ash went at it like they would die without touching each other. And honestly, I had to bite back the jealousy that at least one of us was happy.
I made a face at the happy couple while Izzy managed to walk toward me, cell in hand, texting one of her many boy toys. She never did anything but flirt, which almost made it worse, especially since all of us knew Maksim held a bit of a candle for her, which she promptly ignored since she didn’t want to die.
“Put that away,” Ash barked at her. “We’ve got shit to do.”
Izzy held up a finger.
Ash looked ready to break it.
Typical Monday.
“Cool nails.” I winked and grabbed a thumb. “I like the red—nice touch.”
She laughed, put her phone away, then glared at her brother, who was already kissing Claire like his life depended on it. I mean, would it kill them to come up for air and stop groping?
“Gross.” She made a face. “Could you guys not do that in public?”
He ignored her like always.
Claimed he was in love.
We were all taking bets on when he’d get bored because Ash was too good-looking and charismatic to just stick to one girl—we knew it, he denied it, it was a thing.
I sniffed the fresh Chicago air. This would be my year, the year I wouldn’t let Junior get under my skin, the year I’d have fun at least half the time while getting groomed by my father the other half.
Most students my age were looking at job prospects, while mine was already embedded in my skin—quite literally.
Blood in, no out.
I was the heir to my father’s throne, and I was going to reign supreme over all my silly little subjects—this school included.
Most days it felt like we lived on a different planet, maybe even in a different realm, where mere mortals walked among us and did mundane things like accounting and math—we learned how to cook the books, make murder look like an accident, and spied like we were part of the CIA—like they would even want to catch us since we had friends in high places, very, very high places.
“Ash, you’re late and drive like Grandpa Frank.” I finally brought my thoughts back down to earth and checked my gold Rolex. Already my black Gucci glasses were so tight that I felt a headache forming at my temples.
“He’s always late.” Junior hopped out of his car and gave Ash a high five and hug while Claire gave Izzy and me a sweet smile.
I didn’t do sweet.
I was more…salty. There, that sounded better.
And Claire, well, she had mafia blood, but she seemed too pure for this sort of life. Then again, she helped Ash do some serious shit, so she’d at least earned my respect that way and earned her way into our group.
I cracked my neck. “You guys ready?”
“Always.” Ash wrapped an arm around Claire again and let me walk ahead of him. Izzy hung back with them, and Junior flanked to my right. Never had there been such hatred between a king and queen.
I knew Maksim and Breaker were already around; they had earlier classes than us, and frankly, since we were the eldest, we stuck together more, while the younger cousins got more freedom. Someone had to rule the free world, and it wasn’t going to be smart-as-shit Maksim, who skipped ahead a year and entered into EE with Breaker only to break so many hearts I wondered if he was going to actually contract a sexual disease of some sort.
We let them play.
Because we had work to do.
Fear to build.
Enemies to make.
My stiletto heel hit the cement in perfect cadence to the increased heartbeats around us. The fear, you could almost smell it—I lived for it—it was all I had now that love was gone, now that my heart was obliterated.
I gave my head a shake and kept walking. Along our path, students parted, they stopped talking, they gave us a wide berth, and when we finally made it to the simple white building in the middle of the campus, I felt my hand shake a bit.
Behind us, Ash cursed. He hated this part; we all did.
But it was necessary.
We all turned and glanced at the student body, watching them watch us.
A person would come forward. Someone always did.
Finally, one of the football players stepped forward. I could have predicted that. It was usually an athlete, mainly because they were the only ones who could typically take it.
“Z!” Ash gave the guy a once-over. “Damn man, you put on at least twenty pounds over the summer.”
He gave Ash a tentative smile, then rocked back on his heels. “I knew it was probably time.” His eyes flickered from Ash to the rest of us. “Maybe with the added muscle, it’ll hurt less.”
“Yeah.” Was it me, or did Ash sound sad? “Maybe.”
Zac took a deep breath, clutching his fists at his sides. “I’m ready.”
“Swell.” I sashayed toward him, then did a small circle around him. He was at least two hundred pounds of pure American beef. He had a nice smile, sandy brown hair, and I was one hundred percent convinced he’d grow up to be an accountant.
And not the cool ones that burn the books for you and help you hide money, but the really shitty ones who looked forward to pot roast on a Tuesday the way I looked forward to a manicure.
“All right, Zac, you know the rules,” I said in a low voice. “Not a sound.”
I held out my hand, and Junior handed me the wooden bat. More and more students filed around us, along with a few faculty members drinking their coffee; one yawned.
Eagle Elite, ladies and gentlemen, it would be comical if it didn’t steal our souls, wouldn’t it?
But that’s what the parents wanted. Make us hurt, make us suffer, make us understand, so that if the time ever came where we had to choose between ourselves and our family—we chose family every time.
Bred into our bones, the idea that blood trumps self.
I raised the bat and slammed it across his right arm. He winced but didn’t say anything. I threw it in the air, caught it with my other hand, and hit him right in the left kneecap.
Zac squeezed his eyes closed; his lips were trembling.
“Who are we?” I asked in a sweet voice that sounded fake even to my own ears. I was a lot of things—sweet was not one of them.
“The Elect.” His pain-filled voice was like nails on a chalkboard.
I tossed the bat to Ash, who wasted no time in slamming it into Zac’s back, causing him to stumble forward. “Do not touch The Elect.” He gave Zac a shove, then held out the bat to Izzy.
She took it and hit Zac in the right shin. “Do not look at The Elect.”
Junior was last. I ignored the way his swagger made my stomach flop. Damn, Zac wasn’t the only one who’d lived in a gym this summer… he’d put on at least fifteen pounds of muscle. His tatted fingers gripped the bat. With an evil grin—one I felt all the way to my toes—the bat went soaring right into Zac’s stomach. He doubled over and spat out blood, and Junior leaned over him and said in a lethal voice, “Do not speak to The Elect.”
Claire watched, her expression stoic.
Junior dropped the bat and crossed his arms. “Any questions?”
No student said anything.
“Good.” Junior smiled. “Let’s get out there and have a really safe and fun year!”
The sarcasm alone made me want to burst out laughing, even though I wanted to drown him half the time.
Ash looked away.
“You heard the man,” Ash barked. “Go!”
And off they went, with their rich parents and perfect lives. They’d graduate to the most powerful positions in the world—and they’d remember this moment in their nightmares.
Zac wobbled and then stood. “Thank you.”
Yes, he was thanking us, because if someone volunteered at the beginning of the year, that person and any friends weren’t just given a free pass to talk with us—they were allowed to hang with The Elect, party with us. That person just had to go through the pain in order to get there. I was glad it was Zac since we actually tolerated him and his friends.
“Welcome.” I blew him a kiss and then tilted my head. “No girlfriend this year?”
His eyes heated. “Not yet.” He licked his lips. “New skirt?”
“Go.” Junior shoved him. “You have class.”
“I do?” Zac looked confused.
“Yeah, you do.” Junior rolled his eyes, then pulled out his knife.
“All right, all right!” Zac held up his hands. “Hell, you guys are crazy.”
I lunged for him.
“Shit, man, don’t call her crazy,” Junior mumbled under his breath while Ash held me back.
“Didn’t you almost lose a testicle last time?” Izzy asked Junior.
Zac must have gotten the picture because he turned and ran.
“You’re welcome!” Ash called and then released me.
I stumbled forward, nearly colliding with Junior. He steadied me.
Our eyes locked.
Damn that man’s eyes.
Teal… who had teal eyes?
I hated that the only times he touched me now were to push me away when it used to be to pull me close.
I hated what we’d been forced to become.
Hated it.
“You’ve got mascara—right here,” he flicked my chin.
I licked my middle finger and wiped off the makeup, earning a grin from him before he sobered and looked away.
Ash and Claire were a few feet from us, talking with Izzy.
It was rare for me and Junior to be standing next to one another without shouting, pulling weapons… Was this new school year going to be a cease-fire?
“One day… I’m going to kill you.” He said it like a promise.
And I answered in truth. “You can’t kill what’s already dead.”
For a brief moment, I felt his fingertips graze mine.
And then he pulled back.
I exhaled and reminded myself that the sting of tears meant I was still alive, still breathing, still making my family proud—mainly my dad.
I looked around the fancy brick buildings and sighed. “Welcome to Hell.”
