CHAPTER 8

Alessandro

I didn’t need my alarm on Monday morning. Though I didn’t want the weekend to end, I’d never relished a day like I did this one. My plans took some coaxing and a lot of luck. The school’s staff knew everything was about position and each play we made moved chess pieces around the board for the best strategy.

Even our curriculum included the deadly life lessons it would take to survive along with the financial and business academia we required. I couldn’t imagine another high school in the country with the classes we took.

Killing 101, Machine Class, and Carpet Laying were the student’s names for the boring titles placed on our schedules. The upside was the classes weren’t boring in the least.

I had Business Finance aka Machine Class first hour. We dubbed it Machine Class because we learned everything about finance including money laundering techniques. We also called it carpet laying because the course included running a brothel. I always knew my hands would be dirty and I had to be ready for anything. Understanding the business, what the women required for safety, and the ever-changing laws in Nevada meant my work was cut out for me if I wanted to stay at the top of my game and have businesses to run when it was my time to take over.

Chances were good I would spend time in Nevada after my twenty-first birthday. The Brambilla family owned two casinos and a half dozen brothels. My father grew tired of the state many years ago and had good people in place. Those people were getting old like him and he relished my new blood. I could handle Vegas and it was a good thing because my passion was business.

Mafia families had changed. Tax evasion, money laundering, and cement ankle bracelets were a thing of the past or so we made it seem. We were higher tech and wiser to the RICO laws they used to take us down.

The feds had their financial computer experts but we paid better and learned legal ways around their regulations. The public no longer saw our names and faces in the media as Mafia and forgot about a dangerous problem just as we wanted them to.

Machine Class was one class I enjoyed but today’s real entertainment would come at fourth period, directly before lunch.

Civics.

Or as we called it, Killing 101. Everything required to be a good citizen in our world of violence and death. Even our gym classes reflected who we were. Male and female students learned hands-on combat and self-defense training starting on day one freshman year.

Senior year was more about the killing part or so the rumors said. Funny thing about Rochester. The rumors tended to be current day. Students and families did not talk about the training we received at the academy and we were never given a heads-up by upper classmen.

This was the school’s code of silence of which every Mafia family understood. We came here as clean slates, some like me, tarnished, but moldable. No advantages. Female students were no different. The days of burying their heads in the sand were over. They had to know what was happening behind the scenes in order to support the family.

We did have a few separate classes. A Mafia wife carried the future heir and it was her number one job. The girls learned everything there was to know about raising children or hiring nannies to do it for them, or so we were told. Some of the students, according to their birth, would be those nannies. All would have family connections. They also learned about charities and how to keep the family name in front of the right sort of media attention.

My thoughts turned to fourth period. Someone would be joining me; she just didn’t know it. My killer charm softened the admissions battle-ax who handled the senior schedules. I’d batted my eyes and turned on my killer charm that I’d refined for just this purpose. Once I got my way, I knew today would be epic.

Setting in motion the fight with Matteo was also on the list. He’d had several chances to challenge me, including Friday night. The pussy hadn’t done it and I was tired of waiting.

I whistled for the first time while putting on my school uniform. It could be worse. Rochester’s colors were black and white, à la Hogwarts. The girls could wear black skirts and jumpers with white logoed blouses. The boys had black pants with ties and collared shirts.

There was no gender equality here. Girls showed leg; boys did not, and we knew our roles. Of course, Marino’s lesbian sister put a slight kink in that. I doubted I would lead the family before she was out of the closet and shit hit the fan. Too bad. I loved her but had little control over her father’s or mine’s reactions.

Gloria was a tough cookie and knew how the game was played. She was killer in self-defense and just as good as her brother. If things didn’t work out in the family, when I took over, I would bring her back in if she wanted to come. With her and Marino at my side, I would be unstoppable.

I adjusted my tie and lifted my pack. It was time for a fucking awesome day.