Mafia's Obsession

[POV: HOPE 26f39e66-f2b8-4941-9a13d-f46c97c3464f]

Today marked the beginning of my final year of school, and I was eager to put this chapter behind me. I swiftly crossed off September fourth on my calendar before heading to the bathroom.

After a quick shower and a touch of makeup, I stood before the mirror, taking in my reflection.

I wasn’t unattractive. In fact, quite the opposite. I stood nearly five-foot-eight, towering over most of the girls at my school. My body was curvy, with D-cup breasts.

My eyes were a striking emerald-green, a feature that stood out against my tan skin and chocolate-brown hair. I knew I was pretty, but I never allowed anyone to take advantage of my looks.

I despised the attention my body drew, so I typically dressed in clothes that concealed rather than revealed. My outfits didn’t enhance my appearance, but they didn’t detract from it either.

Once I was ready, I grabbed one of my favorite school bags and descended the stairs. Living on the top floor of our house meant dealing with stairs, which I loathed.

But there were perks. The view from my balcony was worth it, overlooking acres of grassland where horses grazed peacefully.

At night, the scene was even more breathtaking, bathed in moonlight and studded with stars. I loved spending my evenings watching the horses move gracefully across the field and the stars twinkle in the sky.

“Hey, baby,” my dad greeted me, planting a kiss on the top of my head.

I leaned into his shoulder, savoring the rare moments when he was home.

“Hey, Dad,” I replied, pulling away to take in his appearance. He was dressed in one of his £3,000 suits from a high-end boutique. Yes, he was one of the wealthiest people in England.

For some reason, I never turned into the stereotypical spoiled brat like my twin sister, Katherine. Even her name sounded snobbish.

Luckily, we were fraternal twins, so I didn’t have to worry about resembling her. She was shorter, with plain brown eyes and brown hair.

She was slender, but lacked my curves, which always seemed to irk her. She craved attention and did everything to get it. I was more than happy to let her have it all.

“Hope, what are you daydreaming about?” My dad’s voice pulled me back to reality as he handed me a plate of homemade pastries, courtesy of our talented cook.

“Thanks, Dad,” I replied, taking a bite of a pastry. A low moan escaped my lips. It tasted heavenly. God, I love food.

“When will you be home again?” I asked my dad once I finished eating and was ready to head to school.

“Not sure, kiddo. Probably in a few days. Katherine should be back from your mother’s today. You won’t be alone.” He held the door open for us.

He walked me out and opened the door to my car, a gold Porsche Cayenne.

He kissed my forehead and whispered a quick goodbye before closing the door. I started the engine and drove off.

***

I sat in my first class, waiting for my friends to arrive. As usual, they were late. Just as I was thinking about them, they walked in, singing and laughing.

“Hey, birthday girl!” I shouted, jumping out of my seat to give her a bear hug.

Sofia was turning eighteen today. She was one of the youngest in our class, but you’d never guess by looking at her.

She had wavy ginger hair and blue eyes. She was a bit shorter than me, and like me, she had an hourglass figure. Her looks were definitely head-turning.

She was the kind of girl who could make a guy chase her for miles, only to be rejected.

Lana was my other best friend. She was a petite blonde with blue eyes. Despite the stereotypes, I loved her dearly.

I never understood why some people had a thing against blondes. Lana was one of the best people I knew.

“How does it feel to be legal?” Lana asked, and we all burst into laughter. Our math teacher walked in shortly after, and the torture began.

After enduring four tedious lessons, my friends and I sat in the cafeteria, discussing plans for Friday. We had only two days to plan and get our parents’ approval since our school year always started midweek.

“So, which club are we going to?” Sofia asked.

“It’s your birthday, you decide,” I replied, although I already had a few cool clubs in mind.

“Guys, let’s go to Electric Brixton!” Lana suggested, a bit too loudly. A few people turned to look at us.

“Nah, that’s not good enough for my eighteenth,” Sofia responded. I agreed. We could do better.

“What about Heaven?” Lana proposed, another decent but not quite right club. I’d go there any other night, but Sofia’s birthday deserved more.

“I give up,” Sofia sighed after we shot down dozens of clubs. I had one place in mind. I quickly pulled out my phone and texted Nick, my brother.

While waiting for a response, I dug into my lunch. After polishing off a large plate of chicken and pasta, my stomach rumbled in satisfaction.

Nick finally replied. He was studying for his master’s at LSE. He was the oldest of us three, soon to turn twenty-five.

I emphasized how important it was for us to go to the best club so Sofia could have the best party. He responded a minute or so later.

“Who the fuck names their club Greed?” I blurted out my thoughts, causing my friends to turn to me with puzzled expressions.

“Sorry,” I quickly apologized, and they returned to their meals. I quickly typed back.

I decided to trust him. He was notorious for his overindulgences.

He was a big deal in England, thanks to his good looks and the fact that he was next in line to take over our dad’s business. He knew what the best was.

“Guys, I’ve got to head out. I can’t be late for my lesson with Willow,” I told the girls, giving them each a hug. Willow was my thoroughbred horse that I’d rescued two years ago when I was seventeen.

She was a lot like me—sweet on the outside, but capable of a mean bite.

Most people had classes today, but my schedule gave me a double free period. I loved how my day was laid out.

As I headed to my car, I ran into the last people I wanted to see—the bitch squad. And leading the pack was none other than my dear sister.

Our relationship, as you can probably tell, wasn’t exactly warm and fuzzy.

“Hope, my dear sis,” she greeted me with a fake smile.

She tried to play nice in front of others, but everyone knew she was a bitch. She was a terrible actress.

“Katherine,” I replied, trying to move past her.

“Don’t be so rude, little sis. I just wanted to say that I want to take you shopping. Your clothes look like they’re from the trash.” She toyed with the hem of my sweater.

Honestly, I couldn’t disagree, but I liked my clothes just the way they were.

“No, thank you. I don’t want to look like you, Katherine,” I shot back before turning on my heel and heading up the stairs to avoid her. I heard her minions laughing, but they chose to be idiots.

***

When I got home, I quickly changed into my riding gear—dark blue breeches and a T-shirt.

Since it was September, I decided to play it safe and added a matching skintight sweater.

I headed to the stables where my instructor, Olivia, was waiting for me. She was a kind woman in her thirties who had trained many Olympic show jumpers and their horses.

I walked over to Willow’s stable where my dad had scrawled in big red letters, “DO NOT TOUCH. HER BITES HURT LIKE HELL!!!” It was silly but funny and kind of true.

She’d never actually bitten me, so I wouldn’t know. But my dad had been on the receiving end of her bites a few times.

“Hi, girlie. Let’s go for a ride,” I said to her as I clipped on her halter and led her out to the grooming area.

After tacking her up, I put on my boots and helmet and led her out to the arena.

***

After hours of work at the stables, I was now lounging in our swimming pool with a glass of whiskey. Don’t get me wrong—I love working with the horses, but I also enjoy unwinding afterward.

It was already past dinner, but I wasn’t hungry, so I decided to have a drink instead.

After getting out of the pool and taking a shower, I went out to the garden area that was specifically designed for my dogs.

“Milo! Murphy! Angel!” I called out to my pups.

Murphy, a two-year-old Siberian husky, came bounding over first. He was probably the biggest of his litter. He was definitely a big softy.

Milo and Angel were hot on his heels. Milo was a year-old German shepherd. He was still growing, but already quite large.

Angel was the only girl. She was a two-year-old Czechoslovakian wolfdog and was very pretty. I had rescued her along with Willow. They’d both had a rough start in life, but now they were full of love.

They were all jumping around, eager for me to let them into the house. My dad didn’t allow them inside, but when I was home alone, I always let them sleep with me.

Katherine sent me a quick text saying she wouldn’t be home because she was sleeping over at a friend’s house.

I knew she was lying. I’d seen her sneaking off with a guy a few times. I knew they were dating, but I didn’t know who he was yet.

I made my way upstairs to my room. My pups followed me, and as soon as my head hit the pillow on my king-size bed, they all jumped up and curled up around me. I was asleep before I knew it.