"𝕾𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖆𝖉𝖊 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕾𝖔𝖚𝖑"

XIII

Morana's point of view:

I was beginning to think this school didn't actually care about education. No one talked about classes or exams—oh no, the only subject on anyone's lips was The Event.

I couldn't sit anywhere without hearing about it. The Annual Youth Tournament, the pinnacle of Italy's social calendar, and apparently, the perfect excuse for the rich kids to remind everyone else how shiny their lives were. But today, there was an extra layer of buzz.

"The Lombardis will be there," Sofia whispered excitedly as I sat down at our usual cafeteria table.

I groaned, rubbing my temples. "Oh, for the love of—what is it with this family? Since I got here, all I've heard is 'The Lombardis this' and 'The Lombardis that.' What are they? A cult? Do they make you sacrifice goats for initiation?"

Clara snorted into her drink while Sofia gave me a scandalized look. "You don't understand, Morana. They're... well, they're the Lombardis."

"And that means what, exactly?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"They're everything," Clara said, leaning forward like she was about to tell me a ghost story. "Eight siblings. Seven brothers and one sister. Each of them terrifying in their own way."

"Oh, fantastic," I muttered, stabbing at my salad. "A whole squad of scary billionaires. How original."

Sofia ignored me, launching into what felt like a rehearsed speech. "Rafael's the eldest. He's 29 and basically runs the family empire. People say he's charming, but underneath? Ruthless."

"And by 'empire,' you mean...?" I prompted.

"They own everything," Clara explained. "Businesses, properties, even politicians. And then there are the rumors..."

"About the mafia?" I asked, smirking. "You mean to tell me Italy's most famous family moonlights as crime lords? How very Godfather of them."

"They've never been caught," Marco chimed in, grinning. "But let's just say nobody messes with Rafael Lombardi and lives to tell the tale."

"Good to know," I said dryly. "Who's next?"

"Nevio," Sofia said. "He's 27 and the brains behind their operations. If Rafael's the face, Nevio's the one pulling the strings in the background."

"Let me guess," I said. "Quiet, calculating, likes to play chess while plotting world domination?"

Clara laughed. "Pretty much. Then there's Dante—he's 25 and the enforcer. Hot-tempered, fearless, and definitely someone you don't want to cross."

"Lovely," I said. "And here I thought billionaires spent their time sipping champagne and yachting."

"Then there's Cassio," Sofia continued. "He's 23, super charming, and handles all the external relationships. Think negotiations, diplomacy... manipulation."

"Great," I said. "A social butterfly with a side of scheming. What about the twins?"

"Damian and Damon," Clara said, her voice dropping slightly. "They're 20 and absolutely terrifying. They don't talk much, but when they do? It's bad news. They're the ones who keep everyone in line."

"Let me guess—they're assassins or something equally dramatic," I said, half-joking.

"You're not far off," Sofia said with a shrug. "They're trained fighters. People are scared of them for a reason."

"Of course they are," I muttered. "And let me guess, Angelo's next?"

Clara nodded. "He's 19, just a year older than Allegra. Intense, quiet, and fiercely loyal to the family. Especially Allegra."

"Ah, yes. The classic overprotective older brother," I said. "And Allegra? What's her deal?"

"She's 18, the youngest, and the only girl," Sofia said. "Blonde, gorgeous, and a brat and gets whatever she wants. She's just as sharp as her brothers."

"Of course she is," I said, rolling my eyes. "And let me guess—they'll all be at the tournament, gracing us mere mortals with their presence?"

Sofia nodded. "And they're not the only ones. The French sisters—Vivian and Bridget—will be there too."

"Oh good," I said. "More twins. What's their deal?"

"Vivian's the bold one, always in control," Clara said. "Bridget's softer, but don't be fooled—they're both spoiled and know exactly how to get what they want. Vivian's dating one of the Lombardi twins."

"Of course she is," I said.

"And then there are the Russians," Sofia added, her eyes widening slightly.

"Ah yes, the Russians," I said, leaning back. "Let me guess—icy stares, killer cheekbones, and a healthy dose of mystery?"

"Pretty much," Clara said, grinning. "Polina's the eldest—26 and engaged to Rafael. It's a big power move for both families."

"Roman's next," Sofia added. "He's 24 and manages all their businesses. He's... well, let's just say he's scary hot."

"I'm noticing a theme here," I said. "What about the others?"

"Mila and Irina," Clara said. "They're 19, twins like Damian and Damon. Mila's the friendlier one, but Irina? She's sharp. Together, they're... intense."

"And don't forget their mother," Sofia said, lowering her voice. "She's the real power behind the scenes. Nobody crosses her."

"Of course not," I said, smirking. "Because nothing says family values like a terrifying matriarch."

"You laugh now," Clara said, "but wait until you meet them."

"Oh, I can't wait," I said, dripping with sarcasm. "Mafia royalty, French heiresses, Russian ice queens—what's next? A reality show?"

The bell rang before they could respond, and I stood, slinging my bag over my shoulder.

"Thanks for the lecture," I said. "I'll be sure to curtsy if I ever meet these people."

Clara shook her head, smiling. "You're impossible."

"Don't forget hilarious," I said with a wink as I headed to class.

Still, as I walked down the hallway, their words lingered. The Lombardis, the Russians, the French... this school was starting to feel less like a place of learning and more like the setting for some over-the-top drama.

And apparently, I was right in the middle of it.

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Are you guys excited about the other chapters? Who knows what the Lombardis have more to surprise Morana?
Dont forget to vote amd comment.
Sending love,
-M