NIGHTSHADE CLAN... SERENA'S DINING ROOM~

Erica and Venetta sat at the dining table, fidgeting with anticipation as they waited for their mother, Serena, to arrive. The table was set with fine china and crystal glasses, and the aroma of dinner wafted in the air.

Venetta's eyes darted around the room before she reached into her pocket and pulled out a small package. Erica's eyes widened as Venetta quickly unwrapped the contents and brought it to her nose.

"Venetta, what are you doing?" Erica asked, her voice low but laced with concern.

Venetta didn't respond, too caught up in her actions. She sniffed the substance, her eyes watering slightly, and slapped her head, trying to shake off the sensation.

Erica scoffed and pulled out her iPhone, snapping pictures of Venetta in quick succession. "Gotcha," she said, a smug smile spreading across her face.

Venetta's eyes snapped open, and she glared at Erica. "What are you doing? Get that camera out of my sight," she hissed, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I'm going to show mom," Erica said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "You can't even control your urge, can you?"

Venetta rolled her eyes and quickly hid the package, just as they heard the sound of heels clicking on the floor.

Serena was resplendent in a designer gown, her hair styled in an elegant updo, and a diamond necklace glinting around her neck.

Venetta smoothed out her dress and attempted to compose herself, just as Serena walked into the room.

"Good evening mother" Erica and Venetta immediately stood up to bow as Serena entered with her men behind her. The men shifted back her seat for her at the table head and she sat down, her face totally blank and cold.

"You can leave" she told her men.

"Yes godmother" They bowed and walked out of the room.

"Sit down" She told the girls and sat down.

Serena's eyes narrowed slightly as she gazed at Venetta.

"I know what you were doing a few minutes ago. I can see it in your eyes"

Venetta's face went still but nonchalant.

"The fact that you couldn't even control yourself in the dining room...that's what's troubling," Serena continued, her voice firm but controlled.

The room fell silent, the only sound the soft clinking of silverware against plates. Venetta didn't respond, her eyes fixed on her food. Erica remained still.

Without another word, Serena picked up her fork and began eating, her movements precise. Venetta and Erica followed suit until when Serena suddenly dropped her cutlery.

Erica stopped eating too but who are you kidding, Venetta continued eating.

"Where's Jazzlyn?" Serena asked.

"I thought I made it clear for her to always join us during dinner. I bet she's cutting herself again" Serena added.

"I'm sure she's aware about our dinner together" Erica answered.

"That bitch is always in her room, go get her for me" Serena said getting pissed off already

Erica stood up and was about going when Serena voice stopped her.

"Get your ass down" Serena snapped and Erica sat back.

"Venetta, go and call your sister" Serena said and Venetta scoffed, rolling her eyes.

She pushed her chair backward and stood up. She then bowed and walked out of the room.

"Venetta is becoming an head ache" Serena groaned.

Erica immediately poured juice into a glass cup.

"Here mother. Have it" She dropped it in front of her.

Serena took the cup and drank up the water.

The silence after Venetta left hung thick in the air. The clock on the wall ticked, the sound loud enough to fill the space between Serena and Erica.

Erica swallowed hard, fingers tightening around her fork. "Mother..." she started, her voice cautious.

Serena didn't look up. "What."

"There's something I need to tell you," Erica said. "About last night."

That got Serena's attention. Her fork stilled midair, eyes lifting slowly to meet her daughter's. "Last night?" she repeated, her voice even but sharp.

Erica nodded once. "The mission. The one you sent us on. You didn't tell us the Hades Fruit clan would be there."

Serena leaned back in her chair, crossing one leg over the other. The movement was calm, deliberate but her silence spoke louder than any outburst could.

"You ran into them?" she finally asked, her voice low.

Erica nodded. "Yes. Renzo, Glacier, and Ace. It was chaos. We lost men, so did they. It wasn't supposed to happen, and I thought maybe..."

"Maybe what?" Serena cut in. Her tone wasn't raised, but it carried that deadly softness that always made Erica's stomach twist.

"Maybe you didn't know," Erica said quietly. "Or maybe it wasn't intentional."

Serena's lips curved, but it wasn't a smile. "Of course it was intentional."

Erica blinked. "What?"

"I knew they'd be there," Serena said simply, reaching for her glass. The faint clink of crystal against the table was the only sound as she took a slow sip, eyes never leaving Erica's face. "Padrino's been quiet for too long. I intend to stir him up."

Erica's fork dropped to her plate with a soft clatter. "You sent us into that crossfire on purpose?"

Serena tilted her head slightly. "You make it sound like I sent you to die. I didn't. You came back breathing, didn't you?"

"That's not the point," Erica said, her composure slipping. "You didn't tell us, Mother. Venetta almost got shot..."

Serena's voice sliced through hers like glass. "Are you questioning me?"

Erica froze.

Serena's eyes narrowed, cold and unreadable. "Or are you already fucking Padrino's son, and that's why you're suddenly concerned about his clan?"

The words hit like a gunshot. The room went still, heavy with a silence that made Erica's chest tighten.

"Mother..." she breathed, shaking her head quickly. "No, I-"

"Because I would hate to think," Serena continued, leaning forward, her voice calm but venomous, "that my own blood is confusing loyalty with lust."

Erica's hands trembled under the table. She couldn't look away from Serena's eyes - dark, sharp, and knowing.

"I'm not," she managed to whisper.

Serena leaned back again, her tone softening just enough to chill. "Good. Don't make me doubt my trust in you, Erica. Once I start doubting someone..." She trailed off, smiling faintly. "Well. You've seen what happens."

Erica lowered her gaze. "Yes, Mother. I understand."

Serena took another sip of her drink, satisfied. "Good. Now clean up your tone and your thoughts. You're my daughter, not a street girl"

"Yes, Mother," Erica said again, quieter this time.

Serena didn't respond, but the faintest smile ghosted across her lips-just for a second-before her expression turned blank again.

****

JAZZLYN ROOM*

Jazzlyn sat alone in her room. The darkness pressed in like a heavy blanket, swallowing every corner except for a single golden glow from the lamp on the table before her.

The lamp's light didn't feel warm, it felt sharp, like it exposed too much. Shadows clung to the walls, silent witnesses to what she was about to do.

She sat in the wooden chair, the table close enough that her knees touched its edge. In her right hand, she held a small, gleaming knife. Its blade reflected the light in thin, almost mocking flashes. Her left wrist rested on the table, pale and still, as if it already knew what was coming.

Her gaze didn't waver. She looked at her wrist as if it were both a puzzle and an answer.

The calmness in her expression contrasted so deeply with the tremor in the air around her.

She was beautiful painfully so. Every outfit looked like it had been made for her. The curve of her lips, red as ripe cherries; the way her lashes curled perfectly; the grace in her figure. But in that moment, beauty was irrelevant.

Like she had done countless times before, she raised the knife. The motion was slow, deliberate, like a ritual she knew by heart. The cold metal kissed her skin before it broke through. She didn't flinch. The cut was deep, deeper than usual and crimson began to spill quickly, a stark, living red against her pale skin.

She watched it. She always watched it. A faint smile ghosted her lips, the kind of smile that didn't reach her eyes. Her breathing slowed, and with each passing second, her vision began to blur, edges softening, light dimming. She felt her body slipping away before her mind did.

And then...darkness.

Her body crumpled to the floor, the sound of her fall swallowed by the thick quiet of the room.

Moments later, the silence broke. A knock rattled the door....quick, impatient.

"Jazzlyn?" Venetta's voice came muffled from the other side.

No answer.

Venetta knocked again, harder. Still nothing. Her brow furrowed. With a sharp movement, she twisted the knob and pushed the door open, the hinges protesting with a creak.

The smell hit her first-metallic, heavy. Then she saw Jazzlyn sprawled on the floor, her hair fanned out, the knife lying just inches from her hand, a dark pool gathering beneath her wrist.

Venetta didn't gasp. She didn't even look startled. This....this wasn't new. She'd walked into this scene more times than she could count.

She pressed two fingers lightly to Jazzlyn's neck. Pulse–still there.

She tapped her earpiece, the small device linked to the others.

"Erica, she's down again" she said, voice flat, as if she were giving a weather update.

There was a pause. "Got that" Erica said and there was a pause.

Venetta stayed where she was, watching the slow rise and fall of Jazzlyn's chest.

A crackle in the earpiece, and then Serena's voice, curt, uninterested. "Leave her."

Erica relayed it without a hint of hesitation. "You heard her. Leave her."

Venetta's eyes lingered on Jazzlyn one last time. No sigh, no shake of the head....just that same unreadable expression.

Then she stepped backward, pulling the door closed behind her until the click of the latch sealed the darkness inside once again.

And the room went still.

HADES FRUIT CLAN* PADRINO SUITE~

Padrino sat deep in his favorite armchair, the shadows of his private study wrapping around him like a cloak. A thick cigar rested between his fingers, glowing faintly at the tip, its smoke twisting upward in slow, crooked spirals. Behind him stood six men in black suits, pistols drawn, faces carved from stone.

The door creaked open. A man stepped inside and bowed.

"Don, they're back."

"Falli entrare." (Let them in.) Padrino's voice was low, measured. He took one last drag on the cigar before crushing it into the silver ashtray.

Moments later, Renzo walked in, Ace right behind, and Glacier last. Renzo and Ace each carried a heavy briefcase.

"Father" Renzo said, placing his on the desk. He snapped it open-rows of gold bars gleamed under the dim light.

Padrino chuckled, then broke into a deep, booming laugh.

Ace knelt, setting down his case and opening it. Inside were neat stacks of crisp euro notes.

"Questo è quello che intendo!" (This is what I'm talking about!)Padrino barked, grabbing a gold bar and weighing it in his palm.

"Sangue del mio sangue!" (Blood of my blood!) His laughter filled the room.

Renzo grinned. Ace smiled too. Glacier didn't-he never did.

"Tomorrow, after school" Padrino said, his tone shifting to ice, "head straight to Apocalisse. I'll be there with the others. We've got someone to put back in his place."

"Got it," Renzo replied.

The Padrino slid six gold bars across the desk-two for Ace, two for Renzo. He was reaching for the last pair when Glacier spoke.

"Non mi servono."(I don't need them.) His eyes rolled slightly, his voice flat with disinterest.

"You want to end up tied to the tree again, whipped until you can't stand?" Ace muttered, but Glacier didn't flinch.

"Usateli bene." (Use them well.) Padrino gave a final nod.

"Thank you, Father," Renzo and Ace said in unison.

The three bowed, turned, and left, their footsteps fading into the heavy silence.~

THE NEXT DAY* ACME UNIVERSITY~

ACME University - the most expensive, most ruthless, most prestigious school in all of Italy.

The name ACME flashes across the massive digital billboard just before the school gates, the glowing letters almost daring anyone unworthy to step closer.

Students call it the "Gates of Olympus," because stepping through them is like entering a world where wealth, beauty, and power rule and money is the minimum entry ticket.

The buildings themselves are works of art, towering glass-and-steel structures with sharp, modern edges that scream architectural perfection.

The lecture halls are fitted with the kind of technology that could rival NASA's control center-massive holographic displays, automated lecture-recording drones. Even the air feels richer here.

The sports facilities? Out of this world. Olympic-size swimming pools glistening under retractable glass roofs, football pitches so perfectly green, basketball courts and baseball fields manicured to perfection.

And then there's the parking lot....if you can even call it that. It looks more like an exotic car showroom.

Rows upon rows of gleaming Ferraris, Lamborghinis, Rolls-Royces, and Bugattis. Most students own more than one car. For some, four or five aren't unusual. It's not about necessity; it's about status. And in ACME, status is everything-especially if your family runs a chunk of the Italian underworld.

The still morning hum is broken when two Bugattis roll into the lot. The deep purr of the engines turns heads instantly. Conversations pause. Then the murmurs start, like ripples spreading across water.

Renzo and Ace have arrived.

Before they even step out, students are already fumbling with their iPhones, snapping pictures from a safe distance.

No one dares get too close. Everyone here knows the unspoken rule: approach them without permission, and you're signing your own death warrant-literally.

The two doors open in perfect sync, and the reaction is immediate. Girls squeal softly. Some just stand frozen, clutching their chests like they've been shot by Cupid himself.

Renzo steps out first-tall, broad-shouldered, with an effortlessly arrogant smirk. Ace follows, leaner but equally magnetic, his dark eyes glinting like he's in on a joke the rest of the world will never get.

They're not just the most popular guys in school-they're legends. Worshipped. Feared. Desired. In ACME, they're practically gods.

"Oh my f**k..." someone breathes behind a shaky phone camera.

Renzo slides his hands into his pockets, scanning the crowd like a king surveying his kingdom. Ace barely glances around, already bored of the attention he knows he commands.

Before the buzz can settle, three Ferraris pull up in a flash of red, blue, and white.

The first door opens....Erica steps out. She's the kind of girl who could walk into a room and silence it without saying a word. A black crop top hugs her toned figure, aviators hiding her eyes, her glossy black hair pulled into a sleek ponytail. Her expression? Icy. Dangerous. The type that could cut glass.

Venetta emerges next, the total opposite in energy but no less lethal. A fitted blue off-shoulder mini dress clings to her curves, her confident sway daring anyone to look away.

And then Jazzlyn. She steps out casually, almost unnoticed at first, wearing a brown cropped jacket over a simple top, paired with ripped bum shorts that show off her slim legs. She's holding a tablet, absorbed in whatever's on the screen, completely unfazed by the chaos around her.

The moment they appear, camera flashes explode like paparazzi on a Hollywood red carpet.

Renzo's gaze locks instantly on Erica and he didn't stop staring at her expressionlessly.

"I'm going to pluck your eyes out," she says flatly, adjusting her sunglasses without so much as a glance at him.

Venetta chuckles under her breath.

Renzo smirks. "I'm in the mood to spill blood." His voice is low, husky, a threat wrapped in silk.

"Please don't kill me," Erica replies, pure sarcasm dripping from her tone. She runs her fingers through her hair and turns away.

Venetta flashes Ace a middle finger before walking off.

Renzo glances at his Ace with a teasing grin. "Is she into you?"

"Who wouldn't be?" Ace says, his attention already following Jazzlyn's quiet retreat. "Yo... isn't that Serena's last born?"

"You have eyes and you can see. You saw her get out of the car, didn't you?" Renzo mutters before strolling away.

Ace stays a moment longer, catching the gaze of a girl who looks like she's about to faint. He winks. She clutches her heart like it's the most romantic thing that's ever happened to her.

The crowd starts to disperse....until another engine roars into the lot.

Glacier has arrived.

His car is sleek, understated but impossibly expensive. He parks with the precision of someone who never makes mistakes. The moment he steps out, the air changes.

His hair is the first thing anyone notices-pale blonde, almost white, catching the sunlight like spun gold. His skin is flawless porcelain, glowing in a way that doesn't seem entirely.....human.

He chews his gum slowly, his jaw working with lazy confidence. His stride is unhurried, but every step is calculated elegance long legs eating up the distance with effortless grace.

His outfit looks like it belongs in a museum: a black tailcoat embroidered with silver patterns, a crisp white shirt with billowy sleeves, and perfectly tailored black trousers.

A diamond glints from the earring in his left ear, while a mysterious tattoo curls just behind it, written in a language most here wouldn't dare claim to understand.

Ever heard of the Devil?

That's him. Glacier.

He slings his bag over one shoulder, and as he walks, conversations stall. Eyes follow him without restraint.

~He's exactly my type.

~I'm so sure of it.

~He's hot.

~I'm drooling in my panties.

~Oh my heart.

~I can't believe I just squirted from looking at his face.

Glacier keeps walking, unbothered by the whispers. He slips into the lecture hall, deliberately heading to his usual spot-the very last seat. He pulls out his laptop with the quiet assurance of someone who owns any room he walks into, even if he doesn't ask for it.

His eyes drift forward, landing on Jazzlyn.

She's alone, just like always. Unlike her sisters, she's never surrounded by friends or a buzzing entourage. And there's something about her-a stillness, a shadow-that catches his attention.

Then he sees it.

Her hand, hidden beneath the desk, clutching a small penknife. Slowly, deliberately, she slices the skin of her arm. Her face doesn't flinch....not from pain, not from fear. If anything, her eyes soften, like the sting is a kind of relief.

Glacier's lips curl into a quiet chuckle. Then, without another word, he returns his gaze to his laptop, fingers moving across the keys like nothing happened.

The hum of quiet conversation filled the lecture hall. Students were still adjusting to the idea of being back....checking schedules, gossiping about who hooked up over the summer, and subtly sizing up who had upgraded their lifestyle since last semester.

Jazzlyn didn't notice Glacier watching her at first. She was too busy tracing thin red lines on her skin with the knife's blade, eyes fixed on the desk as though she were somewhere else entirely.

Glacier, however, noticed everything.

He leaned back in his seat, one hand casually resting on his laptop's trackpad while his eyes remained on her.

Most guys, if they caught a girl doing what she was doing, would either panic or look away. Glacier? He smirked.

"You're going to make a mess," he said suddenly, his voice low, just loud enough for her to hear over the quiet chatter.

Jazzlyn froze. Slowly, she tilted her head, not all the way back, just enough to catch him in her peripheral vision.

"And?" she asked, her tone flat.

Glacier's gaze flicked to her arm, then back to her face. "You've got nice skin. Shame to ruin it."

Her lips pressed into a thin line. "I'm not ruining it. I'm....fixing it."

He raised an eyebrow. "Is that what you tell yourself?"

She turned back to her desk, slipping the knife into the pocket of her jacket. "What do you care? Are we even meant to be seen talking"

Glacier just clicked his tongue. "I find this interesting. You are crazy and you don't even try to hide it"

Jazzlyn didn't reply. But she didn't tell him to shut up either. He was right after all.

Glacier leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the desk. "You know, most people who look at me freak. The smart ones... know I'm worse than trouble. Which one are you?"

She finally looked at him over her shoulder. "Neither. I'm not most people."

He grinned, slow and dangerous. "Good. Most people bore me to death."

Before she could respond, the professor walked in, and the room snapped into an obedient hush. Glacier sat back, but his gaze lingered on her for a moment longer.

10PM*

APOCALISSE•••••

Apocalisse was nothing but a wilderness, an abandoned land fenced in by tall, lifeless trees. A land of silence, built on blood, carrying only the stench of destruction and death.

The first sound to disturb the stillness was the roar of engines. Five cars cut through the broken path and halted in the clearing. One by one, the doors opened. The Nightshade Clan had arrived.

From the lead car, Serena stepped down first, her face unreadable but her presence commanding.

Erica followed, arms folded, her sharp eyes flicking over the surroundings like a hawk.

Venetta came out next, restless, already sniffing cocaine as if she couldn't wait for the blood to spill.

Jazzlyn slipped out quietly after them, hugging one side of a tree, her expression calm, almost detached. Behind them, their men took formation, standing cold-faced, ready with blood in their eyes.

Not even a full minute passed before another convoy of cars pulled in...the Hades Fruit Clan. The air itself seemed to harden as their doors opened.

The atmosphere shifted when Padrino stepped down. The wind blew against his slicked-back hair as he exhaled a long stream of smoke from his tobacco. Renzo and Ace flanked him immediately, sharp and alert, while Glacier walked behind them without interest, as though this gathering meant nothing at all.

The breeze grew colder, the weather darker, as the clans drew nearer to the center. There, bound against a tree, was their prey...his body bloodied, his face covered with cloth.

"Remove the cloth from his face," Padrino commanded.

A guard obeyed, yanking the stained fabric away. The man's swollen, bruised face appeared, his eyes blinking against the dim light. Blood caked his mouth, yet there was still fear and a plea left inside him.

Venetta leaned lazily against a tree, sniffing another line of cocaine. She slapped her head lightly, restless, uncaring of the scene before her. Whoever the man was, she wasn't interested.

And why should she be? Who in their right mind would dare to preach peace between two clans that had warred for generations? The man before them had tried...and now he stood as an example of how such foolishness ended.

"This is the fate that awaits anyone who dares to bridge the gap between our clans," Serena declared coldly.

Padrino chuckled under his breath.

"Please....have mercy!" the man begged, voice trembling, his body straining against the ropes.

Padrino raised his hand slightly. His tone was flat, almost bored.

"Glacier. Shoot him." Padrino said and Renzo eyes darkened with what seemed like pure jealousy.

Jazzlyn shifted where she stood, leaning further into the shadow of the tree. She had no part in this...she never had. She did not know how to shoot, nor did she care to learn anymore since it wasn't her fate. These things never touched her, yet she could not look away.

Glacier frowned as he stepped forward. From his coat, he pulled a gun, sliding a single bullet into place. Everyone knew he never missed his shot. He leveled the weapon....then suddenly, as though changing his mind, he let it fall from his hand.

A nearby soldier quickly handed him a long, sharp sword. Glacier gripped it, eyes flat and cold. In the span of a heartbeat, he swung.

The man's head fell cleanly, blood spraying across Glacier's face. The body slumped against the ropes, twitching once before going still.

Silence pressed against the trees, broken only by Glacier's voice...

"Let this serve as a warning. Anyone who betrays our clan by forming an attachment with someone from the rival clan will meet the same end."

He paused, his eyes narrowing. "Even me."

Serena's voice rang out after his. "Even if you are my daughter."

Padrino's followed. "Even if you are my son."

Venetta rolled her eyes and scoffed. "We don't need to be reminded, do we?"

"They're not even my type," she added, hissing as she glared at Ace and Renzo.

Erica smirked faintly. "Pointless talk. We all know the rules."

Glacier wiped the blood from his face with the back of his sleeve, then turned his gaze toward Jazzlyn. He lifted his hand in a slow, mocking wave.

"Bye."

Jazzlyn only stared back at him, her face calm, her eyes unreadable. Unlike the rest, who exchanged confused glances, she betrayed no reaction. Inside, though, questions thundered through her mind.

Was this some cruel game to place her in danger?

Without another word, Serena turned away, her daughters following. Their guards fell into line behind them.

Padrino and his sons returned to their cars as well.

One by one, the engines started, and the clans left the clearing behind....leaving only the corpse tied to the tree, headless, a warning carved in blood.

The cause of Nightshade enmity was simple.

The Nightshade Clan and the Hades Fruit Clan were rivals right on time based on competition in wanting favor from the capo and the Capo then forced them into a joint mission, demanding that the both clan lead together despite their enmity.

The mission was sabotaged. Shots rang out, the deal collapsed, and blood stained the streets.

Nightshade swore Hades betrayed them, while Hades swore Nightshade had set them up.

In the chaos, Serena's elder brother was killed.

From that moment, hatred was sealed. Serena blamed Padrino. Padrino blamed Serena. And what should have been one mission turned into a vendetta fierce enough to be passed down to their children.

Inside Serena's car.....

Erica leaned against the window, arms crossed, humming under her breath with a smug look.

Venetta was slouched in her corner, tapping her fingers against the door.

Jazzlyn sat at the far end, head turned slightly, staring at the passing trees. Her body was still, but her mind wasn't.

That word wouldn't leave her.

Bye.

One syllable. Spoken casually. Yet it echoed in her head over and over. Why her? Why in front of everyone?

"Jazzlyn."

Her mother's voice cut through her thoughts.

Jazzlyn blinked, slowly turning her head. "Yes, mother?"

Serena's eyes met hers through the rearview mirror.

"What was that?"

Jazzlyn frowned faintly. "What was... what"

"That little gesture," Serena said.

"That shit of a 'bye' Glacier threw at you. Do you know something I don't?" Serena asked further.

Erica perked up at the words, her lips curling into a grin. "Ohhh. Now it makes sense. I was wondering why the bastard looked at her like that."

Venetta laughed suddenly, smacking her thigh. "Don't tell me Glacier's waving at you like some schoolboy crush." She sniffed, shaking her head. "That would be rich."

Jazzlyn felt the weight of all their eyes on her. Her tongue froze in her mouth.