Ugly car but an even Uglier Day
The alarm exploded through the room.
Alessandra slapped it so hard the device bounced off the nightstand and hit the carpet with a pathetic thud.
“Die,” she muttered.
From the bed on the other side of the room, Elara groaned into her pillow.
“If that thing rings one more time, I swear I’ll cut its wires like it’s a snitch.”
The curtains were half open, letting in the early golden morning light that spilled across the polished marble floor.
The massive chandelier above them sparkled lazily, like it was mocking their misery.
This mansion was too big, too shiny, too loud with luxury for two girls who were about to go pretend to be “average students.”
“Here we go—the first day of school,” Alessandra muttered, clearly irritated
“Exactly what I needed. Waking up at dawn after knocking a grown man unconscious last night.”
“Why are we even doing this? We speak… what? Eleven languages? We’ve been using guns and knives since we were nine. You can snap spines, I can hack governments. What more ‘education’ do we need?” Elara scoffed, tying her hair in a messy ponytail.
“Ask my mother,” Alessandra said dryly, tightening the laces of her plain black sneakers.
“Apparently, a ‘balanced lifestyle’ includes sitting in classrooms full of hormonal idiots.”
Elara rolled her eyes.
“We run the underground. But sure—let’s learn algebra again.”
Alessandra slipped on an oversized grey sweatshirt which swallowed her shape, tied her dark hair into a loose, low ponytail that screamed I don’t want attention. Go away.
Exactly as her mother, Bianca Castellano demanded.
Elara appeared at the door, dressed the same way—baggy black jeans, washed-out hoodie, messy bun, minimal makeup.
Two deadly girls dressed like they worked part-time at a discount grocery store.
Elara tossed a granola bar at Alessandra “Breakfast, low-profile edition. It tastes like cardboard. You're welcome.”
“Fantastic,” Alessandra groaned as she packed the granola bar inside her backpack. “Another day pretending I’m not richer than 90% of this city and stronger than all of them combined.”
Elara chuckled.
She nodded toward Alessandra's thigh. “By the way, Still hurting?”
Alessandra lifted her sweatshirt slightly. The thin, sharp slash ran across her skin—red but healing.
A souvenir from last night’s underground fight.
From a man who actually thought he could win. Pathetic.
“Barely hurts,” Alessandra said.
“Liar,” Elara replied, but without judgment. Only a knowing grin.
At night, Alessandra Castellano was a ghost on the streets—winning races that should’ve broken her bones, finishing fights against men twice her size, bets rising as she dismantled anyone foolish enough to challenge her. By sunrise, she became someone else entirely: a quiet girl in a bland uniform, dragging herself through the halls of a school that had no idea who stood among them. Trained from childhood under the Castellano doctrine, she mastered weapons before multiplication, spoke multiple languages before she ever learned to flirt, and learned to walk like someone born to rule. Power wasn’t taught to her—it was carved into her.
They walked through the enormous mansion—white marble floors, high ceilings, priceless artifacts. None of it matched their ‘poor student’ vibe today.
Outside, the morning sun lit up the long line of cars—sleek blacks, silver machines, roaring engines.
And amongst those, what caught their attention was the ancient, faded hatchback that smelled like dead rats.
"Ewwww", Elara scrunched up her nose in disgust.
"Why the fuck is this piece of shit even existing in our garage?" Alessandra chimed in.
"Burn it, please"
"Will gladly do the honors, Als." Elara smirked.
“You’re not burning anything. You’re taking this car. Or the bus.” Bianca said sternly making it clear that it was an order rather than a suggestion. They looked back to see her standing on the driveway, folding her arms.
Alessandra pinched the bridge of her nose. “Mother. It wheezes louder than people in the hospital ICU.”
“Good,” her mother replied. “Makes you blend in.”
Alessandra muttered, “It blends in with trash bins, yes.”
The look Alessandra’s mother gave her made it clear that there was no place for further arguement.
The girls climbed in. The door groaned. The dashboard flickered. The engine coughed like a dying animal.
Elara buckled her seatbelt. “Als, if this car explodes and I die, delete my browser history please.”
"No promises, hun." Alessandra replied with a mischievous smirk, turning the key.
Heyyy author here! Make sure to let me know how yall liked the 1st chap! Who's your fav character so far? Though this is only the 1st chap and we have MOREEEEE characters to come..Specially our hot boyzz ;)
Kept the chapter pretty short but dw, I promise yall longer and better chaps r to come🙃
