May or may not be a warning: this chapter has over 10,000 words.

Andrea's pov

It's been a few days since mine and Armani's first day of school. It's currently Friday, the day before we're supposed to go to the gym with Marcel and Roman.

"They already know we do boxing. So might as well just show them what we already know." Armani tells me at our lockers while we wait for our brothers to finish talking to their friends.

"Maybe we should minimize our abilities though. Make them think we only know the basics or something." I suggest. He smirked.

"Yeah we could use that to our advantage. They'll think we're weaker than we really are." He mused.

Our family may be the Italian mafia, but we don't want them knowing about us doing illegal fighting. One, if they think we're weaker than we are, we could use that to our advantage in case they try something. That's also the reason we're only making them think we know Spanish and English.

We can listen in on their conversations since they speak freely in front of us, thinking we don't understand it. And the Russian is usually just for emergencies.

Also, from what I know at least, the Russian mafia is our family's enemy. So if something ever happens... Like us getting kidnapped by the enemy mafia and used against our family, we can use the Russian to our advantage.

Like that would ever happen.

Every mafia book on Wattpad says otherwise.

Oh and mafia movies too.

Like what? 365 days?

Ew ew ew ew ew ew. Don't ever say that movie name again. That movie traumatized me more than I already am. I don't know what's worse. Fifty Shades of Grey or 365 Days. I am disgusted.

Well sorry, it was just an example. Jeez, get over it.

How can I get over it when it ruined the words 'baby girl' for me. It's a total rip-off anyway. The movie's name is '365 days' and yet she falls in love with him in like two months.

*Cough* Stockholm syndrome *cough*

Anyway besides the whole using things to our advantage, we also don't want to tell them because then we would have to explain why we joined in the first place, and how we got involved.

And then we would have to tell them about Dominique, because she was pretty much the sole reason we even started doing illegal fighting and racing. We could always lie. But that's just too much work and unnecessary, for now at least.

Armani shuts his locker with a slam.

I grabbed whatever I needed for the weekend and closed mine too, not as hard as Armani's though.

Is he trying to break his locker?

"Boo." Someone grabs my shoulders from behind, making me jump and fling my head back. "Oweeee. You just hit my nose." I turned around to see Marcel holding his now red nose.

"Sorry. But next time don't sneak up on me." Marcel pouts.

"Noted." He mumbled.

"Are you both ready to go?" Roman asked. Armani and I nodded. We walked out of the school and to our car, all the other students parting for us like we're royalty. I suppose Roman and Marcel are popular enough to be considered royalty. Marcel unlocks his car. Me and Armani got into the back while Marcel and Roman sat in the front.

Marcel and Roman are talking about some family trip. Armani scrolls through Snapchat, grumbling about stupid things people post, like flexing their money. While I annoyingly convert all my Samsung Notes to the new format. It's not letting me access any of my fucking notes unless I convert them, so I'm going one by one and converting this shit. 

Is there an easier way to do this?

"Hey Armani...?"

"Hm?" He turns to me. I showed him my phone. "Do you know an easier way to convert all of the notes at once? Cause I have almost 300 notes that I don't want to click on one by one." I asked. He nodded, grabbing the phone from my hand.

"Go to Old format notes, then click 'convert all notes.' And then it loads or whatever." I smiled gratefully at him and took my phone back from his outstretched hand. "Oh, damn that's it?" He hummed and went back to being annoyed by people's Snapchat stories. Marcel and Roman seem to be arguing about something, and like the nosy little sister I am, I don't bother pretending not to hear them. They're arguing right in front of me anyway.

"I would love to go somewhere hot for winter break. I hate the damn cold, why would I want to stay here and freeze, when I can be surfing and enjoying the sun in Hawaii?" Roman expresses, using hand gestures.

 Oooo Hawaii is on my top 10 places to visit list.

"But the last time we went to the mountains was almost four years ago. Imagine how fun it would be staying in an old classic cabin, that is warm as hell, and sipping coffee and cocoa. And I want to ski and snowboard this winter." Marcel inputs. I've never done snowboarding or skiing before. And I've always wanted to stay in one of those cute old timey cabins.

 But I haven't surfed either, and that's also on my 'things to do before I die' list.

"But staying in a beach house is nice too." Roman says, trying to persuade his younger brother.

"Not when you have a fear of tsunamis!" Marcel cries out. "And volcanoes." Roman shakes his head.

Honesty, same though. I'm not that scared of the ocean, probably because in Chicago we have a lake instead. I'm just scared of the unknown I guess. More than eighty percent of the ocean is unmapped, unobserved, and unexplored. Who knows what the fuck can come up and try to kill me.

Oh and don't get me started on sharks. I don't want to lose a leg, or a damn arm. I need all parts of my body, please and thank you. Discussion closed.

"They haven't erupted in years. They're old, they sleep a lot."

"Actually, the last eruption was in December of 2020." Armani corrects. Marcel throws his hands up in exasperation. We're stopped at a light, I promise he didn't just almost crash.

"See! And it was during winter too. Who says it won't erupt again when we're there?"

"Well, I have a fear of the cold." Roman argues, turning to look out the window. He's just like Armani; he hates winter.

You're related to weirdos.

You talk a lot of shit for someone who's just a subconscious. I thought you're supposed to be in my head, not up my fucking ass.

Rude ass bitch.

Oh wow, we have something in common. Who would have thought? Now please, kindly shut up cause you're giving me a headache.

We stop at a red light. "You know, we fight about this every year." Roman sighs, leaning his head on the glass pane. Marcel drums his fingers on the steering wheel, staying in sync with the song playing from his phone that's connected to the aux cord.

"Ya I know. And we fight so much, that it's usually Leonardo who ends up deciding because we can't. And he never chooses either of our suggestions."

Roman turns to me and Armani, who are listening to their banter. "What do you guys think?" Armani's eyebrows furrow.

"What do you mean?" He asks, confused. I'm confused too, why are they asking us?

"I mean, where do you want to go for winter break? Somewhere hot with beaches or somewhere cold with snow? Tropical? Or a ski lodge?" He explains, practically having to spell out what he meant to us.

"Or do you guys have any suggestions for places? Like Spain? Or somewhere in the states, like California? The possibilities are honestly endless. We have the whole world to choose from." Marcel adds.

"Except North Korea!" Roman says loudly. "I'm not trying to die."

I turned to my twin who's as puzzled as I am. "Okay, but why are you asking us this?" Roman looks around the car before knocking on our heads. "Ow what the fuck?" Armani groans.

"Are your brains still in there? Where'd they go? We're obviously asking because you're going on vacation with us too and your opinion matters." He rolls his eyes like it's obvious.

We're going on vacation too?

"Every year, we usually go on two vacations. One during winter break and another one during summer break. We're big on those family vacations. It's a tradition. And you guys are family, so obviously you're coming with. What? You think we're just going to leave you here alone?" Marcel laughs, stopping at a stop sign before continuing driving once he realizes there are no cars.

Yeah, I guess we did think that.

We've never gone on a family vacation before. We never even left Chicago until Dominique died and we came to live here. I didn't even know if they really considered us family like that, that they would take us on a damn vacation. I figured that they would just leave us with the guards or something.

"Oh." Armani mumbles. Marcel seems to notice the change in our mood. He glances at us, clearly worried.

"Have you ever travelled before? Like for a vacation trip, I mean." We shook our heads.

"Well then, we'll make sure to take you guys on lots of trips from now on." Marcel smiles.

Armani looks at me unsure. "Where do you wanna go?"

I shrugged. "All the places I wanna go are expensive as fuck." Roman and Marcel quickly protest.

"Money is not a problem, obviously." Roman uses hand gestures to show the inside of the car. "We're sitting in a Ferrari GTC4Lusso T."

I glanced at Armani to see him searching up places around the world. He nudges me and shows me a picture of the beach and ocean in Hawaii. I bite my lip. Two weeks living on the beach? I wouldn't be able to sleep.

 I wanna learn how to surf but I'll probably break something trying.

And I've never skied or snowboarded before, or stayed in a cabin. It's winter, so we should go somewhere that actually fits the month. We can go somewhere warm like Hawaii during the summer.

"Warm location, Hawaii." Armani answers.

"Cold location. Aspen, Colorado? Or somewhere where there are mountains." I said. 

That's like the only geographical mountain place I know of...

"Well now it's a tie."

"Let's just sleep on it." Marcel concludes. The conversation ends there and the car becomes a comfortable silence again, the only sound coming from the music Marcel put on.

~~~

I sighed and refrained from throwing my homework at the wall. I'm bored and I can't figure out these stupid geometry problems. I will never understand why shapes are even in math.

Why is this triangle a triangle?

Um... cause it looks like a triangle? I don't understand why I would ever need to know all the statistics unless I'm a math major or whatever, which I'm obviously not.

I can't even concentrate considering there's a ringing in my right ear. Whenever it's quiet, not even a light sound could be heard from a fan or something, I hear a ringing in one of my ears, sometimes it's both.

I opened up my laptop and signed into my Spotify account. I play Beyoncé and put it on blast since I don't give a fuck if anyone hears. She's one of my queens, along with Avril Lavigne, Rihanna, Britney Spears, Ke$ha and Selena Gomez.

I locked the door and went inside my walk-in closet, grabbing my hard cover notebook that is placed on one of the top shelves. It has a lock on it, so I put the combination in. I flipped through the pages until I got to the end where a secret compartment I made is. I pulled the drawstring and it popped open.

Inside it, I keep a few of my throwing stars and knives. The rest I keep in my purse or backpack, at least until I find a better hiding spot or make more secret compartments in my notebooks.

I wanted to do it in one of my old books but Armani pretty much cursed me out, for trying to harm the poor book. And then he took them from me to "protect them."

After grabbing some throwing knives, I put the lock back on and placed the notebook back on the shelf. I have to stand on my tippy toes to reach it.

I go back to my room where "Partition" by Beyoncé is playing.

"I sneezed on the beat and the beat got sicker." I sing along.

Gosh her songs make me feel like a bad bitch.

You are a bad bitch.

Aww that's the nicest thing you ever said to me.

I moved the painting off the empty wall and placed it on the floor. I made an imaginary target in my mind because I'm too lazy to actually make one.

I stood in the middle of the room, standing up straight. I gripped one of my throwing knives in my right hand, placing my thumb on the spine, aka the smaller side of the knife. I keep a good grip on the handle, bending my elbow at a 90 degree-angle, holding my arm in front of me. My right foot is forward and my left foot is slightly behind it.

My body is instantly relaxed due to the security the knife in my hand gives me. It makes me feel like I have control.

I move my right hand slightly back, keeping my eyes on the wall target. I swung my arm forward, making sure not to add too much forward or backward momentum so it doesn't spin backward or forward, but still enough that it'll land on my target without any problems.

The knife swished through the air and stabbed through the wall, making a thud sound. It successfully landed on my imaginary bullseye, which I was pretending was Dominique's chest.

I imagined her choking on her own blood and then falling to the ground. Begging me to help her. the pathetic excuse of a mother who didn't deserve my help. I would have left her in a pool of her own blood. And I would only get rid of the body once I got sick of the rotting corpse smell.

It's not like anyone would find her beforehand. She had no friends, no family, no permanent boyfriend that would come looking for her. No one would show up to our small apartment that was in Humboldt Park.

Then I would burn her body and pretend she has gone missing. Throw her in the trash where she belongs.

I talk so much about killing someone when I've never even killed before. But I think I would be able to. At least, that's what I tell myself.

Armani and I weren't trained to kill. Rio and Chris precisely told us that killing wasn't the answer. If push comes to shove, we were supposed to knock someone out or harm them in a way that won't end their life.

Kinda hypocritical considering they've killed before. They think we don't know, but we aren't stupid. We've seen them come in with blood soaked on their clothes, but no wounds present. We've heard gunshots and screams coming from their office, followed by a thud.

I didn't care that they killed people, and neither did Armani. They are still family regardless. Rio and Chris helped us before even knowing our names. They saw two malnourished kids who needed serious medical attention. They didn't look the other way like everyone else did, they actually helped.

Armani groans beside me in the corner of our room. We had pushed our dresser up against the door, just in case Evan and Dominique woke up and wanted to do a second round.

Evan is Dominique's current boyfriend. Or one night stand, I'm not exactly sure. She came back to the house with him after being gone for almost two weeks. I guess she wanted to make up for lost time because she gave us an extra painful beating. This time she slashed us a few times with a knife. She was mad there was no food in the fridge.

What did she want us to do? We are only 11 and can't work yet for another few years. How are we, her children she should be providing for, supposed to make money to buy groceries?

We've stolen wallets, food, and other supplies a few times. Sometimes we had gotten caught and arrested. But they dropped the charges due to the fact we were just some kids. Dominique was never so happy about that and it always resulted in us receiving more pain, so we stopped doing it.

And now she's mad about it? Bipolar bitch.

I can't stand up without falling back down. I'm fighting to stay awake, but at this point I don't think I'll be able to. "Don't pass out Andrea. You need to stay conscious." Armani practically begs on the verge of tears. I softly smile, my own tearful expression matching his.

It's times like these that I miss Olympia.

She also knew what to say to us to make our situation feel better than it is. By cracking a joke or just reassuring that she'll stick by us. And then she would give us one of her amazing hugs. Her hugs felt warm and it made you never want to let go.

She's gone now though. And we're alone. Just how the world seems to want us to be. Forever alone.

"I know twinny. You stay awake too." He nods, trying to stand up. Armani holds onto the wall, shutting his eyes painfully.

"I got this." He whispers. He lends me a hand, to which I take. I'm scared I'll accidently take him back down with me, but his hold on me tightens and he stands me up. My twin limps towards our bed, which is just an old mattress we found, and grabs his black hoodie.

"I'll stain it." I tell him, gesturing to the open wounds on my body that are pouring out blood really fast. I feel dizzy.

"I don't care." He firmly states. "You're only wearing a tank top and it's cold out. We have to leave and get some medical supplies from Walgreens."

"How? We have no money?" I remind him. He frowns and his mouth forms into a thin line.

"We steal it. I have two dollars. It won't be enough for the supplies but it'll be enough to buy something like a pack of gum or a small bag of chips. We stuff some bandages or whatever into our clothes and then buy something cheap, so they won't be suspicious. Then we run out of there before they ask any questions about how fucked up we look." I nodded, winching because of the new bruises on my face.

"Arms up." He tells me. I smile softly, doing as he says. He puts the hoodie on me, putting a black beanie we stole from the donation drop box, on his messy brown hair.

Armani looks at me and frowns again. He moves the hair out of my face, and puts it behind my ear. "You need to brush your hair." I stick my tongue out at him.

"A little preoccupied to do that." He smirks and puts on his shoes. I do the same and then wait for him as he ties his laces.

"Ready sorellina?" He asks, grabbing the little money we have. "Yeah." Armani grabs my cold, bloody hand. We somehow push the dresser back towards the wall and tiptoe out of the apartment after quietly walking past a passed out Dominique and Evan.

"It's night now, it's not safe to walk around here during this time. So stay close to me, please little sis. I don't want anything happening." I expressed my agreements as gunshots boomed through the air, deafening our ears.

"I don't understand why gangs have to have territorial wars all the time around here." Armani says to himself.

"What do you expect? Them to be peaceful. Maybe sit down and have a tea party and talk about their problems? They are arrogant, cocky assholes who refuse to give up their pride to spare the lives of their own people." More gunshots sounded. Me and Armani speed up. We unfortunately can't run because of our injuries. So speed walking is going to have to do.

Yelling is heard behind us. I turn back warily. "Armani."

"I know." He steers me towards an alleyway. We kneel behind the black and blue garbage cans. Armani tries to catch his breath, the bruises on his stomach and ribs clearing taking an impact on him. Can't say I feel any different. My ribs are aching and I'm starting to struggle to breath.

Armani wraps his arms around me, holding me. I do the same with him, trying to give some comfort to ease his worries. My vision becomes blurry and I start seeing doubles.

Snap out of it Andrea. Stay awake. It won't be good if you pass out.

Armani looks at me worried. He stuffs my head into his chest, shutting his eyes at the same time.

Pounding footsteps and yelling is heard as some sketchy people run by us on the sidewalk, where we were walking before we hid. "Stupid ass bastards. Call Roni. Tell him we need backup." The voices become more distant as they run off somewhere.

We stay like that, kneeled down beside smelly trash cans that probably hold big ass rats in them. Both of us don't seem to want to let go of each other's comfort.

Eventually though, Armani pulls away. He glances around for any sign of danger and then looks back at me. "We should walk in the alleyways instead, at least until we get somewhere safer." I nodded and stood up painfully.

I'm more dizzy than I was before, my body feels like it's on fire. I see doubles of everything as I struggle to keep up with Armani.

You got this. Just a bit longer.

I try to recognize where we are, but I honestly have no idea. Every alleyway looks the same. And we aren't around any houses that I recognize. "Where are we?" I asked quietly. Armani swallows anxiously and timidly looks around.

The alleyway is near the bigger street, but it's still a long walk to the nearby Walgreens. There's a back door that has a snake on it. It says "VIP VIPERS" I stare at the door for longer than I should have, seeming intrigued with it for some reason, like it's calling out for me.

"I don't know." He finally admits, looking down at his worn out shoes. "Fuck. I'm so sorry Rea." He sank to the floor, his knees pulled up to his chest and his head rested on his knees. I look down at my twin brother sadly. I sat next to him, putting my arm around him and shutting my eyes.

"It's not your fault. Stop being so sad. We'll be fine." I tell him softly. "We always are." I say under my breath.

And there we were, two broken kids who couldn't continue walking after being beaten by their abusive mother. One of them is feeling guilty and hating himself because he couldn't protect him and his little sister, who isn't even that little. And the other is fighting to stay conscious, trying to comfort her twin who always puts too much stress and pressure on himself that it's considered extremely unhealthy.

My head nods and I have to shake it awake, only for it to nod again. Eventually, I give up picking it back up and my eyes shut, this time I have no energy to open them. My arm falls off Armani's shoulders, lying limp on the dirty concrete.

Armani's head shoots up and frantically turns to me. "Hey hey! Stay with me Rea!" He starts shaking me, getting desperate now. I look at him with my half open eyes, smiling sadly.

"Merda, merda. What did Google say to do?" He mutters to himself. A light bulb seems to go off in his head. "Distraction, keep their minds running." He whispers. He shakes me awake again. (T: Shit, shit)

"Andrea, do you know what your name means? It's of Greek origin and it's also obviously Italian. It means strong and brave." Armani tearfully chokes out.

"I need you to be strong for just a little bit longer. Please. For me?" Tears brimmed my eyes as well. He somehow manages to pull me up, even with his own bleeding wounds that need to be looked over. I shakily stand upright, holding onto the wall for support. And just as we're about to try to walk, the door in the alleyway slams open.

Armani and I jumped. Our heads snapped to the door so fast, I'm surprised our necks didn't break. Two guys who look to be in their early twenties, appear in the doorway.

The first one I noticed has pitch black hair. His eyes matched his hair, a storm of black with pinches of grey dust. His face is stiff, but do I dare say there's worry displayed in those eyes of his?

He has a scar that runs vertically from his right eyebrow, to the middle of his right cheek. His left cheek has a small fresh cut going horizontal.

His scar is a shade lighter than his neutral beige skin. He's wearing a white top that shows some of his chest tattoos and his fully inked arms. He also has more tattoos on his hands that he has on display. None of the tattoos are colored, they're only black and grey.

His black washed jeans and golden chain hanging around his neck, finishes his whole ensemble. He's got a lit cigarette hanging from the side of his mouth, making Armani crinkle his nose in distaste.

Armani hates cigarettes.

His eyes narrow as he observes the alleyway, clearly looking for something. That's when I spot the beeping light coming from the corner of the building.

A camera.

His eyes meet my panicked ones. He gestures to his friend who steps out of the shadows, giving me a better opportunity to take a lot at him.

His friend looks a bit younger than him, maybe by a year or two. His blond locks are mixed with some black ones, giving me the assumption that he dyed his hair. The blond hair matches with the vibrant blue eyes displayed on his light beige face. He's got a few piercings, two on his left eyebrow, and one on his mouth.

Like his friend, he also has a neck tattoo and a few tattoos on his arms, but that's about it. They're also black and white. He's wearing a fashionable black shirt and black cargo pants

Even though they look terrifying, blondie has a soft expression that a mother would probably give you. The first guy doesn't look that nice with the way his face is stuck in one emotionless, dark looking expression. But never judge a book by its cover, right?

"Hi. Are you okay? We saw you through the security cameras and you looked like you needed help." Blondie says. Black haired rolls his eyes.

"Look at them Chris. Do they look okay? The girl looks like she's about to pass out. And the boy looks like he's about to cry. They're practically shaking just by looking at us." The guy, who I think is Chris, smiles softly at us, ignoring his friend.

"You guys need medical attention." He tells us. Gee thanks, like we didn't know that.

"We have a medical room filled with supplies, we can patch you both up." Armani's hold on me tightens. We limp backwards, away from the tall and muscular men.

They could beat us easily. It would be way more painful than Dominique's beatings too.

What if they kill us?

We're already in pain, we don't need any more.

Chris's friend sighs. "Look. Obviously we don't look like your average nice guys. But we ain't gonna leave you out here to die, bleed out, whatever. We won't call the cops, our experiences with them aren't that great, so they won't be involved. They won't ask questions or anything. Come on, what do you have to lose?" I lick my lips that have blood coming out of them due to the opened cut Dominique gave me when she punched me.

Armani stiffens, looking behind us warily and then back at me. "What do you want?" He whispers. "We don't know them." He added.

"I know." I mumble. Chris steps forward and we take a step back, not expecting him to move. Me and Armani trip over each other and fall. Armani sucks in a large breath, digging his nails into his skin. I cry out in pain.

Something cut my leg.

Looking down, I see a large piece of a glass in my leg, piercing the skin and making me bleed more than I already am. "Fuck sorella, I'm so sorry." Armani apologizes, his hands shaking anxiously.

Chris stops walking and puts his hands up in a surrendering motion. "Hey hey, look I'm not going to hurt you." He painfully says, looking at us with pity.

"Fuck that's a big piece of glass." Chris's friend hisses. "It wouldn't be good to take it out here. There's a lot of bacteria, you can infect the area. And you don't have any soap, water, or rubbing alcohol to disinfect it. That and nothing to cover the wound." He points out. I cracked my knuckles, feeling more stressed out. Armani bites his lip.

The black haired guy moves towards us, walking by his friend that is trying not to scare us. His strides are long and he doesn't stop until he's standing over us intimidatingly. I shrink back and Armani stiffens, pulling me closer to him.

The black haired guy sighs and bends down closer to our level. "Look, you're both losing a lot of blood. And at this point, one of you is going to pass out." He's not wrong. I feel sleepy.

"You both need to be looked over. Your cuts most likely need to be sticked with how deep they look, or at least disinfected. You can go wherever you're going, but you probably won't make it there in time before one of you falls to your knees. And I think it's going to be her, because her cuts look deeper and she looks a lot more bloody. You'll never be able to carry her and keep yourself upright as well." Armani looks at me and then back at the older guys who are offering us help.

"I could try." He stubbornly says. The guy shrugs.

"Try if you must, then watch as you fail. Let me tell you something though, trying stupid plans because you're stubborn, is the first step towards failure." He stands up to his full height and then begins walking back towards the door. Chris uneasily looks at us and then him.

I looked at my twin who looks like he's about to make the hardest decision of his life. It's like he's deciding whether to save the world, or let it crumble and burn.

I would let it crumble and burn. For all I care, everyone except my twin, is dead to me already.

Finally Armani looks straight at the tattooed man who's about to walk back into the building.

"Wait!" He stops. He doesn't turn his whole body back to look at us, but instead tilts his head and raises an eyebrow.

"Yes?" Armani lets out a shaky breath, looking down at the asphalt ground.

"Help us." He whispers.

"Huh?" Armani clenches his fists, holding onto me even tighter than he already is.

"Don't leave us." The black haired guy frowns. He closes his eyes for a brief moment and then glances back at us sadly.

"Chris, go inside and clear an extra medical room for them. Tell Oscar to grab some rubbing alcohol, bandage wraps, painkillers, and possibly a needle and thread. They both have bleeding cuts from what looks to be a knife. They might need stitches." Chirs nodded and ran back inside.

His friend rushes over to us, kneeling down and easily picking me up bridal style. Armani's hold on me was too weak for the man apparently because he had no problems grabbing me.

Armani stands up instantly, and tries to grab me again.

"Hey, chill bud. I'm just picking her up cause she might not be able to walk herself, plus it'll be faster. See?" Armani looked at him skeptically but nonetheless nodded and slowly followed after us as we walked towards the door.

As soon as we pass the door though, it's a dark hallway with a few doors to the right of us.

"Boss." Some unfamiliar man calls. A buff looking security card pops up out of nowhere, looking warily at me and my twin.

"They're with me." The man holding me says. The guard nodded and let us through. Armani limped forward to stand next to the black haired guy holding me. He glances down at my brother who's trying to keep up.

"Want me to slow down a bit?" He asks softly. Armani shakes his head, checking on me again real quick before answering.

"I'm fine. Where's the stupid medical room or whatever?" The man gestures towards the second to last door to the right of us.

"Open that one." Armani does as he says and immediately bright lights blind my vision. The roaring of people's chants and yelling is heard. I try to look up a bit but my neck hurts to move upward, from the way I'm comfortably being held.

"It's probably best if you hold onto my hand or arm. I don't want you getting lost in the crowd." The man tells Armani. He glanced at me then kept his eyes on the guy holding me.

"Fine." He grabbed onto his outstretched hand. "Least it doesn't look dirty like most." Armani mumbles. I barely heard it over the loud shouts of the crowd. The guy holding me seems to have heard it though with the way his lips tilt upwards into a slight smile.

"Thanks I guess." He steers me and Armani through the bloodthirsty crowd. It isn't until I see the combat battle going on in the cage that is in the middle of the large warehouse looking room, do I realize this isn't just some secret club or party.

From all the books, movies, and shows I've seen. I just know this is illegal fighting.

Holy Willy Wonka Chocolate Factory. What did we get ourselves into?

We rush past sweaty bodies and the bar area, to get to a separate pair of black swingy doors.

Once we walk through the doors, it's like the loud chaotic yelling from the other room vanished. And instead of sweat and alcohol being stuck in my nose, the scent of clean linen and disinfecting wipes is what enters.

Stretchers with knocked out, bloody looking people rush past us to the spare medical rooms. Others are just sitting on the chairs outside of the rooms, putting ice on their bruises.

"What the fuck." Armani curses, very loudly might I add. He lets go of the man holding me, slightly trying to shove him and make him fall to the floor. I think he's trying to get him to let go of me.

It's useless at this point though. The man could knock both my and Armani out with one punch.

Sadly, we are that pathetic.

After a while, Armani gives up. He just wore himself out.

"You done?" The man asks him. Armani nodded embarrassingly, looking at the floor to try and hide his face that now has a pinkish blush coating it. "Alright then. Look, I'll explain all this later. For now, just trust that we're trying to help."

"Why?" Armani whispers. The man looks at him confused. "Why are you helping us? What do you want? We don't have money. And we aren't selling ourselves to you people. We aren't hookers." I stifled a laugh.

"Uh ya... we aren't into that pedophile shit." He awkwardly says. "And we are helping you because you're two kids who were hurt in our alleyway. Me and Chris weren't just going to leave you there. Now come on, your room should be this way." He walks into one of the rooms on the left side of the hallway.

The room's color scheme is white and a dark shade of grey. Overall, it looks like a stereotypical hospital room, but with a more comfortable bed.

Chris and another guy are talking near the bed but stop when we walk in.

"They look fucked up." Unknown guy clicks his tongue. He tilts his head, observing us.

"Wow, way to make them feel better Oscar." He shrugged.

"Better than lying to them. Sit them down on the bed." Oscar waves his hand towards the king sized bed. The man, who I still don't know the name of, places me gently on the covers. Armani hops up right next to me, holding my hand in his own.

I don't know if it's to give him or me comfort. Either way, I'm not complaining.

"So what exactly happened?" Oscar asked.

"We don't know. We saw them through the security cameras struggling to stand, so Chris and I went out to help them." Oscar hummed, grabbing a bunch of medical supplies.

"Alright, who do I treat first?"

"Her." Armani points to me at the same time I point to him. "She's more injured." Armani said.

"I think he broke his ribs." I tell them, quieter than I would have liked. He shakes his head.

"You just got cut by a knife several times." He looks at me in disbelief, talking in a hushed voice.

"So did you." I hissed.

"Yeahhh but your cuts are deeper than mine. So they need to be looked at. Please Andrea, it'll make me feel better if I know you're being treated first." He explains, fixing the drawstring on his hoodie that I'm wearing. I sighed and looked at the strangers in the same room as us.

"Alright." I whispered to him. He smiles softly.

"Are you guys twins? Oh my god, you're sooo twins. I always wanted to meet twins! Especially boy-girl twins." Chris squeals.

Armani flinches at the unexpected, loud voice. While I softly smile at the guy in his early twenties. He seems nice. But it's usually the nice ones that always stab you in the back.

"Yes. W-We are twins." I curse at myself in my head for stuttering and being scared. But let's be realistic, an 11 year old girl in a room with three older guys in their late twenties, what are the chances something might happen. Especially when she can barely throw a punch correctly without breaking her own fingers.

Not only that, but they're muscular, tall, strong, and look dangerous. They're helping us though, so they must be somewhat good, right?

Stupid trust issues.

"Alright. I guess I'll do you first." Oscar tells me. He stood in front of me, putting down all his supplies on the side table. Chris is sitting on the couch, doing something on his phone. While the guy who carried me here, leans on the wall near the door.

Oscar's hand lingers on the bottom of my shirt, silently asking for permission to pick it up.

Armani glances at me worried. I let out a shaky breath and smiled softly. "Go ahead." I whispered. Oscar pulled up my shirt, exposing my bruised and scarred body. All of them look at it in shock, their expressions turning to ones of pity.

I look down, self conscious.

"Well? Get on with it and stop staring at my sister, you creeps."

Oscar disinfected my cuts and bruises, used an antibiotic ointment, then bandaged them. He did it as carefully as possible, seeming afraid to hurt me even more.

He took out the large piece of glass from my leg and disinfected that area as well. "She needs stitches for most of these cuts, including the one that was caused by the glass piercing through her skin." Armani's hold on my hand tightens.

"You ready? It's gonna hurt." Oscar said.

"Get on with it." I told him. "I've been through worse." He looks at me with a sad smile but nonetheless does what I ask, not wasting time to stab a needle and string into my skin.

Augh I'm probably going to have more scars now. Just peachy.

I winch throughout the whole procedure. My wounds have at least stopped bleeding now. Oscar bandaged them up as much as he could. He goes to the mini fridge in the corner of the room and passes me an ice pack. "Ice your bruises." I jumped when the cold ice touched my skin.

"Alright your turn." Armani uneasily looks from me to him. I winched and complained a lot throughout the whole stitching process. I think Armi is having second thoughts.

"Can I just bleed out?" He cringes.

~~~

Armani ices his face that is all bruised up, along with his stomach and ribs. He just finished getting his stitches and treating all the wounds on his body as well. Oscar gave us both some painkillers, which me and Armani were hesitant to take.

After being assured they weren't trying to roofie us, we swallowed the painkillers.

Oscar left a while ago because someone came in after a fight. He broke his arm. It looked really bad.

So now it's just us, Chris, and the guy we don't know the name of.

"So, what happened?"

"I thought you said no questions." Armani fidgets with the grey comforter.

"No questions from the cops. We aren't cops." Black haired points at him and Chris. Armani and I stay quiet. If we tell them, they might end up dead like Olympia.

They seem nice. They helped us.

I don't want them to die because of that.

Tears brimmed my eyes again. I don't want people dying because of us. I don't want to get close to anyone, only for them to leave us one way or another.

"Okay. You don't trust us. That's cool. It's not our business anyway." Chris said. He grabs his phone off the coffee table. "How about you guys just have our number handy though, just in case something like... like this happens again." He gestures to our banged up selves.

His expression darkens and he painfully looks away and stares off into space. "You aren't alone." He told us firmly before walking out of the room quickly.

Armani and I look at each other wearily.

"We don't have a phone." I told black haired guy.

"I figured." He said. "I know we just met, but if you ever need a doctor, in case this happens again, you can come here. I doubt you'll want to go to the actual hospital, and it's better than treating any major injuries yourselves." We nodded.

"Thanks." I whispered, closing my eyes and leaning my head on Armani's shoulder.

"What are your names?" The man asked.

"Armani." Armi answered hesitantly. "And this is my sister, Andrea."

"What's your name? And what is this place?" Armani asked, looking around with both curiosity and fear due to the unknown.

"Rio. Chris is the guy that just left, as you probably already know."

"And this is the underground." That's the last thing I heard before I blacked out.

Diva blasts in the background as I continue throwing knives at the wall, trying to block out all the painful, yet kinda happy, memories.

That was the day we met Chris and Rio. They taught us how to fight, how to race, and how to use weapons like guns and throwing knives. And eventually we started participating in the illegal fights and races that they always took us to.

I don't even notice someone's knocking at my door until I hear them calling my name.

"Andrea! Are you decent?" Armani calls from outside the door. I nod then realize he can't see me. I slapped myself on the forehead and answered him.

"Yeah yeah I'm good. Give me a sec." I paused my music and unlocked the door to see Armani with the phone pressed to his ear, talking in hushed voices.

He hastily walks in and sits on my couch. "Lock it." He tells me. I look at him confused and lock the door.

"Who are you talking to?"

He sets the phone down on the coffee table, putting it on speaker.

"Heyyy girl, how you been?" Chris's voice sounds through the phone. I smiled, quickly sitting down by Armani.

"Hey Chris. I've been good. What's up with you?"

"Ohhh you know... nothing much. Except for my new girlfriend." He yelled happily.

"Holy shit. Kaia said yes?" I asked.

"Hell yeah!" He cheered. Kaia works the bar during the underground fights. Chris has been wanting to ask her out since forever, but she always said no. She said she didn't want a boyfriend right now, her last one was an absolute asshole.

Chris respected that and was okay with being friends.

He never got over her though and instead waited till she was ready. Then somehow, he landed a date with her. But she made it clear that she just wanted to start with dating and not all the official titles yet.

"Congrats Chrissy." Armani said, knowing it would annoy Chris.

Chris's real name is Chrissy. His parents thought they were having a girl and decided on the name Chrissy. When he was born, they were completely thrown off. They fought over a name for so long that everyone just decided on that name. It scarred Chris for life.

"You're lucky you're in another country right now. Because if you weren't, you would regret calling me that horrifying name."

"Alright alright, enough playing. Twins, who did you piss off?" Me and Armani look at each other confused at Rio's question. "Uh a lot of people. You're gonna need to be more specific." I replied.

"Andrea, did you meet a hot Italian mob boss?" Chris asked. I stare dumbfounded at the phone. What's with all the stupid questions? And I mean, I did meet a mob boss. But I don't think I would call my own sperm donor hot.

Sweet home Alabama

"No I didn't." I answered, scratching the back of my neck and looking at Armani who's trying to comprehend what Rio and Chris are asking.

"What do you mean, did we piss someone off? Of course we did. Andrea's right. You're gonna need to be more specific." Armani stated, rolling his eyes.

"Like the mafia. Did you piss off the Italian mafia." Rio clarified.

"Uh no...?" Armani answered. I don't think he knows how to answer that. "Why are you asking this?" I heard Rio and Chris sigh.

"Because I got an email from Giovanni Bianchi and another one from Alessandro Bianchi. Alessandro is the Italian mafia leader, and Giovanni is his second oldest son. They were asking about you."

Shit.

"What do you mean about us? What were they asking?" I asked worriedly. If they got into contact with Rio and if they asked about us...

...

Fuck they figured it out.

"They wanted to know if we had any fighters or racers named Armani Moore or Andrea Moore." They were smart to use our last names, since we didn't go by Bianchi in Chicago. "So, do you want to explain why they're asking about you? Please don't say you fucked with the mafia."

"No Rio, we didn't mess with any mafia shit." Armani rolls his eyes.

"And I didn't meet a hot Italian mob boss that's obsessed with me and wants to know everything about me. Geez what is this? Wattpad? I'm not living some fictional life in those mafia romance books." I rolled my eyes.

"But we did, kinda... meet the Italian mafia family." Armani awkwardly said, sheepishly smiling. The line goes so silent that I have to check the phone to see if they hung up.

"Scuse me? What are you children doing over there?" Chris hollers.

"How in the fuck did you meet the fucking Italian mafia family?" Rio yells. I laughed awkwardly.

"Language." I scolded him. I hear Rio grumbling curses in the background as Chris laughs at him. I nudged Armani and silently told him to tell them for us instead.

He shrugged. "Oh yeah, forgot to mention it. But we're related to the Italian mafia. Our uh... dad? Yeah, he's Alessandro Bianchi." And the line goes silent again.

"Well shit." Chris whistles. "Now it's starting to make sense. You guys have Bianchi genes, should have known."

"We haven't told them about anything. About Dominique, the abuse, or anything revolving the underground. How in the hell did they find out?" Armani seethed, running a hand through his hair.

"What did you end up telling them?" I asked. "I told them that we didn't know anyone by that name. And that many fighters and racers don't use their real names anyway. They explained how you both looked and I told them that we don't have the people they're looking for." Rio explained.

"We would never snitch you guys out." Chris states seriously. "Yeah we know." Armani replied.

"Do they treat you well?" Rio asked us. "I guess. They give us food and a bed to sleep in." Armani said, playing with a fidget spinner from my side table.

"Did they hit you?"

"No no, they haven't done that." We reassured them.

"Is there any other reason you called?" Armani asked. "Well besides the fact that we missed you both, and the whole mafia thing, yeah there is something else." Rio said, papers rustling in the background.

"I called the guy I know who runs all the illegal fights and races in Italy, including one of the main underground places in Sicily." Rio tells us. "He said you guys are welcome to come fight or race, he'll be managing you both from now on, obviously."

"How soon can we start?" I asked. Armani looks at me with a pointed look. 'Your ribs?' He mouths. I shrugged.

'I haven't been in the ring for over a week now.' I mouthed back. My hands are itching to punch some people and let out all my anger and frustration from all the bad memories that have been resurfacing again.

I need this.

Armani sighs. "Fine, I get it. I miss being behind the wheel too." He points out quietly.

"Either tonight or next Saturday." Chris pipes up.

"Hey! Give me back my phone you idiot!" Rio shouts, his voice distant. We hear wind whooshing in the background so I'm guessing Chris is running away from Rio after he stole his phone.

A door slams loudly. "Stop slamming doors Chrissy! Our neighbors already hate us enough." Rio shouts. Chris ignores him and instead speaks to us.

"Okay so you both are signed up for a fight, you guys can choose to come tonight or next Saturday, doesn't matter. Armani, you have a race tomorrow night. I know it's last minute, so are you guys okay with that?"

"Yeah yeah it's fine." Armani and I expressed our agreements. "Time and place?" I asked.

My fight is at 1:00 am CET and Armani's is at 12:00 am CET. He gave us the address as well.

The guy who runs the underground fights and races is named Massimo.

"Okay so since we haven't talked in almost a week, tell me everything. How was your first day? Meet any friends? If not, that's okay, you know. They're missing out on your amazing personalities. Which teacher do you hate the most? Do I need to tell some of my Sicilian friends to jump them? Because I can totally do that. They can be in the hospital in less than an hour." I laughed and Armani shook his head in amusement.

"You can't have everyone we don't like be jumped on the street, Chris." Armani tells him in disbelief. He says that, and yet he did the exact same thing. When we were in middle school, there was this bratty kid named Nate or something close to that. And Armani didn't like the way he talked to us, so he followed him home and beat him up.

Although later on in the year I did the same thing, because he was talking badly about Olympia's death. Saying, "She probably died to get away from you." And, "She probably deserved death anyway. I don't understand why everyone is so sad about her dying, she was just a stupid dyke."

And that was the first time I hurt someone so bad they landed in the hospital. Luckily, Rio and Chris made sure all charges were dropped.

But honestly I wouldn't care if I landed in juvie or if I had a damn record. I don't regret breaking his ribs or reconstructing his face. Or about breaking his fingers. Actually never mind, I didn't break any of his fingers. He did that when he tried punching me. He didn't fist his hand correctly.

Idiot.

I hoped he changed into a better person though. But realistically speaking, he's still probably a homophobic, misogynistic asshole.

We talked to Chris about all that has been happening in our lives and about the latest episodes of the shows we watch, which are still premiering episodes.

Eventually Rio came back and we talked to him for a bit too.

"Alright my luvs, we have to go. There's some meeting we unfortunately have to get to."

"It's important Chris." Rio reminds him sternly. Chris lets out an exasperated sigh. "I know, I know. It's a very important meeting about illegal shit, with higher up people in the business. But come on! Those people scare me dude." Chris whines.

"What higher up people?" I asked, intrigued. "I can't say who exactly. But it's with local gangs and the um..." Rio stops.

"It's not a damn curse word. The Chicago mafia, twins. The m-a-f-i-a." Chris spells out. Armani tsks.

"So much talk about mafias." He mutters.

"I love you both. Stay out of trouble, please." Chris says, like a worried mother.

"We'll try. Bye you two, love you." I tell them.

"Bye. Take care of yourselves." Rio says.

"You too, talk to you soonish." Armani bids goodbye and then hangs up.

He sighs. "Are you absolutely sure you're okay to fight? I've been noticing you winching and getting up in the middle of the night to ice your ribs." I smiled softly. "I'm fine, Armi. And you didn't have to agree to fighting either. The bruises on your back haven't been healing and look worse than before." I pointed out.

"True... I guess if you're up for it, then I can't stop you." He gets up and grabs his phone, smirking at the wall that now has many dent marks from my knives.

"You should put the painting back on the wall before one of our brothers comes in and notices." I nodded and he left after stealing one of my throwing knives that were on my desk.

I'll just steal it back later.

I put away all my throwing knives and moved everything back to the way it was.

Just as I finished adjusting the painting to the exact way it looked before I took it down, someone knocked on my door.

"Andrea, dinner's ready." Marcel says through the door. "Coming." I called. I opened the door and found Marcel and Armani standing in the hallway.

"Great! Dad's making my favorite, so let's go." He excitedly speed walks downstairs. I followed after him. "I'm literally starving, sis. I literally feel like falling to the ground in starvation." I laughed.

"Oh my god, same. I felt sick during lunch and barely ate anything. Worst mistake of my life."

Marcel talked to us about a music festival he wants to take us to in a few months. "I'm down." Armani shrugs, jumping the last three steps on the stairs.

"Yeah me too." I smiled. Going to a music festival is on my 'things I've never done but want to do'

"Really?" Marcel's face brightens up.

"Hell ya."

His grin grows so big that I don't know how his face doesn't hurt. How do people smile so much?

"Okay great, I have so many plans. First we are going to do-" And he spends the next few minutes talking to us about all his ideas and what artists we should see. Armani opened the door to the dining room where Alessandro and our two oldest brothers sit.

Where's Roman?

After sitting down, everyone started grabbing food and digging in. I thought we always waited for everyone before eating, unless they're working?

"Hey, where's Roman?" I asked. "He said he wasn't hungry and that he had a big lunch and a bunch of snacks that filled him up." Alessandro told us.

Marcel stops talking to Armani when he hears this and furrows his eyebrows at his father's words, but doesn't say anything. He looked anxious but nonetheless continued eating his food, slower than usual.

I thought he was really hungry? Why is he eating so slow, then?

"He should still eat something, he'll get hungry later if he doesn't." Giovanni insists.

"We can't force him, Gio. I'm sure if he gets hungry, he'll eat something before bed. Like some dinner leftovers or a sandwich." Alessandro tells him, taking another sip of his wine.

Dinner continues as normal. I talked with Armani and Marcel while Alessandro and the rest of our brothers talked amongst themselves in Italian. Talking in quick, hushed voices. I was listening to it for the first few minutes but then realized it was just mafia talk.

"The rest of the family is coming over next weekend." Alessandro addresses. "They'll be staying for at least a week." Marcel groans.

"By everyone, do you mean Karen and Samuel too?" Marcel complains. Leonardo sighs.

"Yes Marcellus, Aunt Aurora and her son Samuel as well." Alessandro sighs. "And her name isn't Karen."

"Could have fooled me." Marcel mutters, picking at his food.

"Why do they have to come? They're so negative and are always ruining the fucking mood." He seethes. "Language baby brother." Giovanni lightly scolds him.

"Oh come on! You know I'm right. I know you guys don't like them either." Alessandro slightly smiles. "You're right figlio. I wish my brother, your uncle, had better taste in women. He's always been bad at choosing them. But Alessio promised me that Aurora and Samuel would act better than they did last time." (T: Son)

"Trust me Marcel, we don't want them here either. Not much we can do though since she's married to Zio Alessio. Just ignore them and keep as much of a distance from them as you can." Leonardo tells him.

Leonardo looks at me and Armani who are wondering who these people are.

"Alessio is dad's youngest brother. He's 33 and is barely settling down. He just got married to Aurora last year. Samuel is his new step son. And neither of them are well... fun to host." Leonardo explains.

"How fun." Armani sarcastically bites. "Any other family members we should look out for?" Alessandro hums. "Not that I know of."

"Nonna's tight hugs." Giovanni pipes in.

"I like her hugs." Marcel protests. "They're warm and she always smells like some kind of fresh food. She just has that motherly vibe to it."

"I don't like hugs." Armani shivers. "I don't mind them." I shrugged. I feel okay with hugs depending on who is giving them. I haven't met my grandma yet, but I'm sure I'll like her. So if she wants to hug me, I'm not going to stop her.

We finished the rest of dinner with small talk about school and work.

"I'm kinda tired, I think I'm going to head to bed early." I mentioned as I washed my plate. Armani fake yawns, it sounds real though. So I'm over here wondering if he's actually tired.

"Yeah me too."

Our family nods. "Alright. We won't disturb you." We bid them a goodnight and then rushed upstairs.

"Just to clarify, you aren't actually tired right?" I whispered to Armani. He shook his head, laughing slightly. "Obviously not Rea. Just needed an excuse for them not to come into our rooms." He walked into his room.

"Be ready in an hour?" He asked. I nodded.

"Meet in your room or mine?" I said quietly, looking around the hallway for any eavesdroppers.

"Mine." He answers.

We went into our separate rooms to get ready. I showered and changed into a black Calvin Klein crop top with a black hoodie that I left unzipped on top. And black joggers paired with one of my Jordan's.

I decided to put on the necklace Olympia gave me for good luck. I'll take it off before the fight so nothing happens to it.

(A/N: Imagine a different necklace)

I put on my white twin ring, as usual, and then grabbed my knives and guns. Underneath my pants, I put on a thigh knife holster where I stuff a few of my throwing knives. I put my gun in my waistband and checked the time.

10:58

I grabbed my money, phone, and keys then quietly sneaked into Armani's room.

He's ready as well, scrolling through something on his phone while he waits for me.

He looked up when I walked in.

"Ready?" He raises a brow. I nodded.

"Alright, it's probably best to go through the window, then sneak to the backyard side. and then leave through the woods."

"Walking in the woods at almost midnight." I tsk. "Let's pray we don't get chopped up by serial killers." He shook his head.

"Chill sis."

"You go first, I'll lock my door while you climb down." He moved towards his door while I walked onto the balcony. I look uneasily down below then back at the tree in front of me. I swallowed the saliva in my mouth.

Here goes nothing.

I'm not coming to your funeral.

Thanks for the words of encouragement.

I grabbed onto the tree and jumped onto it, hearing Armani walk up behind me. I climbed down the tree, keeping my eyes up at the sky.

Armani laughed at my discomfort.

I flipped him off.

"I thought you weren't scared of heights?" He asked, confused.

"I am when I'm climbing down a tree that's many feet off the ground." I yelled in a hushed voice, trying not to get caught. "I'm fine with being high up when I'm in something like a box, like in a Ferris wheel. Or when I'm secured because of a fence or something."

Armani climbed onto the tree as well and easily maneuvered his way down.

My feet successfully landed on the ground and I sighed in relief that I didn't die.

Armani jumps from a high branch to one below him and I audibly gasp. He could have fricken broken something.

He jumps onto the ground from a branch that looked about 5-6 feet above us.

The damn gorilla.

"Let's go." We sneaked into the backyard and ran into the woods. I let out a breath of relief when we're far enough away from the house.

"Ready to kick some ass sister?" I smirked at my older twin.

"Let's do this brother."

******

🌹🌹🌹

Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed this chapter :)

Let me know what you thought. Sorry it took longer than expected, I've kind of been stressed out and haven't had time to write, sadly. 

Basically, I took an exit exam at the end of the school year for my math class. I got my results and I failed, so now I have to retake the class. Augh this is sad.

But I guess it's whatever since I don't have to retake all my classes from this year, just the math class. Which is my least favorite, yay.

Hope this longer chapter makes up for it. 

I appreciate all of you ❤

Let me know about any spelling, grammar, or plot mistakes.

Have an amazing day/night! Stay positive, drink some water, and go eat something ✨

Luv you all <3 

Words: 10,825