The Academy (Part 2 of the Syndicate Series)

Chapter 1- Weaponized Heels

Rosine:

"And what does 'decimated' mean?" I asked, calling over the sounds of fists meeting flesh to my uncle Claude.

"It means to destroy something, usually breaking it into small pieces, ma fille."

"And conquer?" I tried my best to pronounce it, but I knew it wasn't right, so I spelled it out for him.

My uncle looked at me with a furrowed brow, "To take over something. What are you reading that has those words anyways?"

I held up the heavy book, happily swinging my feet since they couldn't reach the ground from the bench. They were clad in my favorite childhood sneakers, the light up kind. "Death and Espionage."

The only problem was that I couldn't say the word, and it came out like 'es-spinach' which only made him laugh. "Are you sure you should be reading that, Rosine?"

"Yes. Just don't tell father."

He muttered something under his breath in French that I couldn't hear, but it was probably a curse about my stubbornness. He did that a lot. I propped my book back up in front of my face, raising my eyebrows in faux innocence, although at age 10, I had been exposed to violence others wouldn't have dreamed of seeing in their lifetimes.

The men in the ring in front of me bounced back and forth, throwing their gloved fists so quickly that they were blurs. My father didn't like it when I went to the training room to watch, he thought it was too violent for 'little girls like me'. It started when I was barely old enough to read, I would sneak away from my sister with one of our princess books and sit on the benches, pretending to read while I watched my father's best men fight.

The men in the ring and working out around me were nice, they liked me more than my father did. They would pat me on the head as I passed or sneak me some candy. Uncle Claude would always give me a disapproving look when he saw me there, but he never told me to leave. Because he was my father's right hand and brother, his loyalty lay with him, and he had to do what he was told- he couldn't officially approve of me ditching my sister's tea parties so I could watch the boxing, but he understood why I did.

"You know, I wouldn't be reading this if I was allowed to practice with you," I tried, knowing that it would never work.

Uncle Claude frowned, "You know why that can't happen, Rosine"

A glare was all that he got in return, "Because I'm a girl?"

Blaise poked his head through the ropes of the boxing ring where one of Uncle's best fighters had been teaching him to throw a punch. The black haired boy and I looked nothing alike, but we shared a special bond that only two kids who were raised together could achieve.

He was two years older than me, still he was my best friend, "But Rosine is good at that stuff. She runs as fast as me, she can do a lot of pushups, and she can carry a lot of books."

I grinned at him, thankful for the support, before turning back to my uncle in an 'I told you so' way.

He sighed, "Look, your father doesn't want you learning how to fight, you know that. If it was up to me, I would let you do whatever you wanted, but his commands aren't up for debate."

I knew my father didn't want that. My mother had only two children before she died- my sister, Belle, and I, a set of twins who were born practically identical but were looking more different every day. There was no rule against girls taking over for their fathers in the French mafia, in fact one of the best enforcers we had was a woman, but my own father didn't like the idea. Blaise was the son of his third in command, and I was pretty sure that was why my father took an interest in starting training for him young- with no sons of his own, and my uncle being unmarried, Blaise was obviously his preferred successor.