“Move!” I shouted as the skinny little blonde boy stood in front of me. His eyes widened and he shot over to the other side of the hall his chest pumping up and down in search of air he had somehow lost in the time it took to realize he was blocking my path. Smart kid that he was, he knew not to stay in Vincent Mussolini’s way for longer than a few seconds. No one- I repeat- fucking no one, gets in the way of my family. We are the Mussolini family. The next generation of the most powerful gang in the city of Chicago ever since Al Capone; known for the destruction, the distribution, and the driving of the city.
“Maybe you should be nicer to people, Vin,” Sammy said from beside me. My head snapped over to the side setting my eyes in a glare. He knew his place and he knew just how tolerant of talking back I am.
We walked in a block watching boys squirm and girls fawn. No one interested me at this school because I had no fucking time for that bullshit. My dad is always making me worry about the family business instead of what a normal eighteen year old boy should be worrying about. While other boys worry about where they were going to stick their dicks next, the Mussolini boys were learning how to cock guns, load machine guns, and learn how to break into a safe.
‘Great parenting skills’ are our father’s middle names, I swear.
We walked into the lunch room where everyone immediately stiffened as they heard our thick boots slapping against the tile floors. We walked over to our table, stealing food from whoever dared to get close to us. When my eyes landed on another man at my table, I clenched my teeth in disgust.
“Ralph?” I said loud enough for the silent cafeteria to hear.
“Sup, Vin?” he answered with the same tightness in my voice.
I slammed my hands on the table, making the guy that had been snoozing at our table jump up. “Why the fuck is there some sorry ass excuse of a boy at my damn table?” The boy in question raised one of his eyebrows.
“Not sure, Vinnie. Maybe we should teach him a lesson.” Ralph stepped up beside me as did Sammy. The boy didn’t even seem to care that we were ganging up around him seeming as a few boys stood behind him.
“What the fuck do you want, buddy?” he said in the same Italian accent me and my family had. I narrowed my eyes at the bold boy.
“These assholes messin’ with you Gio?” one of his goons asked. Sammy stepped forward but I slapped my hand on his chest. These little pricks had no idea who the fuck they were messing with. The very thought of how scared they should be made me smirk. If they knew who my family was, who our family was, they would be running for the hills not sitting there like they actually own the place.
They must be new.
Might as well teach them now.
I turned around and everyone took a step back or slouched in their seats. “Students of Remington high, we seem to have a serious problem here,” I said loudly. “Wouldn’t you agree?” No one moved or even breathed. “I said, wouldn’t you agree!?” They nodded faster than necessary. “Who would like to tell our new friend what the fuck he is doing wrong?” No one moved as to be expected. I scuffed and walked over to a football jock named Quail and yanked him out of his seat before throwing him toward mine.
“Quail, tell Gio what he is doing wrong?” I demanded. The usually cocky boy now looked downright nervous as Sammy burned holes into Gio. Gio had his eyes on me however. “Quail!”
“You’re at his table!” he said in a rush of words. Leo grabbed onto Quail’s shoulder with a smile.
“Good boy,” he said with a mischievous smile.
Marcelo was one of my favorite in the group because of his sarcastic attitude. It helped when none of us wanted to smile because of our crazy ass dads. “Now go sit.” He pushed Quail away and the football jock practically ran back to his group of friends. His girlfriend cooed over him.
My head snapped back over to my table when a spitting sound hit my ears. My eyes landed on Gio and he grinned as he looked down at the table with a puddle of spit on it. “I don’t see your name anywhere, pretty boy.” My anger flared and I grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and yanked him across the table. Georgie, Ralph, Leo, and Sammy all held his clique off as I held him in my clutches.
“You think you’re bad? Oh, you have no fuckin’ clue who you are dealin’ with, kid. You want to play with the big dogs? Well expect to get bit, bitch,” I threw him on the ground and watched as he stood back up, brushing his clothes off with a smirk. I growled in frustration but it was short lived as his fist collided with my jaw.
“All bark and no bite. Maybe you’re just a bitch,” he pondered. I punched him in the face and all hell broke loose between the two cliques. I beat the shit out of Gio but the kid was slick like me. He knew when to dodge and when to land a punch. He kept me on my toes and that much, I really did like. This kid would be okay if he wasn’t such a bitch.
“Come one Mussolini. That all you got?” he chanted as he wiped blood from his mouth. I tackled him onto a table nearby with cheerleaders in it. They all screamed and ran as I landed punches on him. He upper-cut me and kicked me off of him, making me fall on my ass. He pounced on top of me and held me down by my throat. Our eyes met and something seemed to click into place as his emerald eyes hit my honey brown ones. I couldn’t breathe but it wasn’t because of his hand on my throat.
“Mussolini!” The SRO officer yelled. I pushed Gio off of me, trying to ignore whatever the hell just happened between us because nothing did. It was all in my head. I punched him again and again wanting to get the weird feeling out of my system. I was suddenly yanked off by Sammy and Leo-- lucky for Gio.
“Mussolinis and Catalinos! My office now!” Officer Ivy shouted. Catalinos? Why did that sound so familiar? I pondered this thought as my clique and I walked in front of the Catalinos.
I walked into the office with the boys and we took the five chairs that were there for us; specifically for us. The other clique walked in and stood against the wall as the secretary looked up at us. I gave her a dashing smile and she blushed and looked back down. I couldn’t help that I had the face of a god.
A hand landed on my shoulder and I looked to my left and found Sammy looking at me with hardened eyes. “Who the hell are the Catalinos?” he asked with hate. My head snapped over to Gio and one of the other boys that had black hair and chocolate brown eyes. He looked to be his second, much like Sammy was to me. They were whispering just like Sammy and I but they looked a lot less confused than we did.
“I have no clue, Sammy,” I answered. “I think they knew who they were messing with when they got here though. The way Gio keeps looking at us makes me feel like he knows who he is fuckin’ with,” I seethed with poison dripping from my words. There was only enough room for ONE powerful Italian clique in this school and this little boy needs to learn that now rather than fucking later.
“Mussolini!” the principle called as he walked in. I stood up because I knew he was addressing me. I felt the Catalinos’ eyes on me as the principle glared holes into me. “We have new students and you are already picking fight?” His tanned face was red with anger and I loved to see the man mad so I did the thing I knew would piss him off. I spoke in Italian.
“Stiamo solo facendo quello che sappiamo fare meglio,” I said and the boys laughed and even the Catalino boys laughed. “Vaffanculo, man.”
“What the hell are you saying!?” Principle Baltimore shouted. We all laughed at his red face until someone cleared their throat.
“Something he shouldn’t be,” my pops answered. My pops is a big son of a bitch. He had dark brown hair like me and honey brown eyes just like me. He had a clear face while I liked the rugged look however. Pops is one of those guys everyone hates because they can never be him…like father like son.
“Vincent Mussolini, what the fuck do you think you are doing?” Pops asked with a stern look. I gave him a passive look because I am not really scared of him- maybe depending on the occasion. I had known him my whole life and I guess I am just immune to his big boy act. Yeah, I know he is the leader of a very powerful gang but he is also my pops and no matter who or what my pops is; he will never be the big gang member everyone makes him out to be. Just pops.
I rolled my eyes as Gio stepped forward. “Hey, Emilio,” he said to my pops. I scowled at him and he brushed it off with a smirk. “How have you been?”
My dad hugged Gio making me and the boys all stiffen. What the fuck did I miss?
“Pops?” I said with a tense voice. It was taking everything inside of me not to reach over and punch that damn smirk off of Gio’s face. “Pops, how do you know this prick?”
My pops turned to me and grabbed the scruff of my neck hard. I whimpered slightly as he made me bend down a little bit. I would never show weakness in front of my boys however and the fact that Gio was standing there only strengthen my fight. “You better learn some damn manners, boy. This is family,” he said motioning to Gio. “Not by blood, but by name. You will respect the Catalino family. Do you understand me?” I tried to nod but he held on too tight. “I said do you understand me, boy!?”
“Yes, pops!” I seethed. He pushed me toward Gio who caught me against his chest. I met his eyes and he was smirking still. I pushed away from him and Sammy grabbed me right as I went to spit some pretty nasty curses at him. Pops gave me a look and I straightened myself out.
“You boys need to learn how to get along,” my pops seethed. “We will talk business when we get home. Vin, I want you in my office as soon as you step inside of my damn house. Got it?” I nodded and he grunted in approval. “Go to class and your dads will deal with you all later.” All the boys groaned as my dad took his leave. As soon as his leather jacket was out of sight, I grabbed Gio by his shirt.
“You better learn some damn respect. This school is mine and it always will be,” I growled out. “This is Mussolini turf and you betta be glad my dad likes you or you would be six feet under, prick.” I threw him into his group and smirked at his frazzled look.
I began to walk out of the office when he called my name. “You don’t scare me, Mussolini,” he said with distaste.
I laughed and raised one flawless eyebrow. “I should,” I said and then made my way out with my clique. He wanted a war? He just found himself one. Fuck pops! This is my turf and no wannabe is about to take that away.