Empire of two

Marcella

Being a medical student has been literal hell. And not the cute red devil on your shoulder kind of hell I'm talking no sleep, caffeine fueled, mental breakdown on a Tuesday kind of hell. It's been three years and two days since I made the bold some might say insane decision to march into my father's office and tell him I wanted to go to school to study medicine.

As the daughter of the great Don Donatello, I was never expected actually, it was more like strictly not allowed to go to school or become a doctor.

My job description as a good Italian daughter?

Look pretty, stay quiet and get married off like a limited-edition wine aged just enough to raise our family value. But somehow, I broke the mold. I'm my father's pride and joy his little miracle which makes me the apple of his eye even if that apple is currently rotting from stress.

It was a scorching Friday afternoon, and I was sprinting across campus, sweat clinging to my back, on my way to the anatomy class I'd been waiting for all semester. Today we'd finally get to dissect our lab rats something I should've been excited about. But I couldn't get a grip on myself. Everything felt off. Dad had called me that morning, his voice usually firm. He said someone would be picking me up after school. No explanation, just that I wasn't going home on my own, and that we had an "important dinner" to attend. One I had to dress formally for.

Since that call, I'd been spiraling. Disoriented. Overloaded. My mind refused to settle, even as I tried to focus on the day ahead. And then there was Isabella Raymond ~my best friend and my anchor most days. Bella was the daughter of my father's underboss and best friend. Which basically means we have known each other forever, like first birthdays, shared bath water kind of forever.

I hadn't even told her yet that we'd need to go shopping after class. I didn't own anything remotely formal....... unless you count the black dress, I wore to my mother's funeral. And there's no way I was putting that on again. While lost in my thoughts, my foot caught on the edge of my bag and everything spilled. I tripped hard, landing in an awkward sprawl on the pavement.

"Ugh, I groaned, scrambling to gather my things~ papers, pens, my water bottle rolling out of reach. My palms stung, and my pride stung worse. That's when I spotted Bella, leaning casually against the brick wall of the lab building, her headphones in, watching the world like she owned it. She saw me and gave a lazy smile, but it vanished as soon as she caught my expression.

"What happened?" She asked, pulling out one earbud.

I tried to smile, but it barely made it to my eyes. "We need to go shopping after class. I said, brushing sweaty hair from my forehead. "Emergency. My dad's dragging me to some fancy dinner tonight, and I have nothing to wear. And before you ask—no, the black funeral dress is not an option." She raised an eyebrow. "The one with the lace sleeves?"

I nodded, and she wrinkled her nose.

"Yeah, no. That dress is haunted. Bad memories and zero fashion forgiveness. We'll find you something better."

Her confidence steadied me a little. Just enough to take a deep breath as the lab door creaked open and the sharp scent of antiseptic drifted out. "Ready to cut a rat open?" she asked, grinning now.

"More ready than I am for this dinner," I muttered.

But I followed her in anyway, trying not to think about what or who was waiting for me after class. Bella wasn't even a medical student she studied computer science she is definitely some kind of computer guru but somehow, she always made time to tag along to my labs. Apparently, she wants everyone to know I have a best friend. "Public image or some s**t," she explained, like she was my personal PR manager instead of just the loud girl who crashes anatomy class without shame. The dissection was a success. I got an A. I studied hard, and for once, my sleep deprived brain actually functioned. So yes it was a well-earned A, not a pity grade.

Classes ended around 3 p.m., and like clockwork a black SUV was waiting outside school for Bella and me, one of my dad's men standing beside it like an overqualified chauffeur. When we got there, I casually let him know we'd be stopping at the mall for about two hours. I remembered my dad saying dinner would be at 9 p.m., which gave me plenty of time to get ready... and, more importantly, to keep my nerves from staging a full-blown coup.