Trapped In Two Mafia World

Opening the door, I froze. The room was beautiful, neat, carefully arranged, and far more perfect than anything I had imagined. For a moment, I just stood there, my fingers still wrapped around the handle, afraid that if I blinked, it would all disappear but off course it can’t.. I can’t believe!! muttered… As calm, introspective girl from a modest part of the city, a place where life is simple and the wider world feels distant.Not knowing much about luxury, high society, or the fast pace of elite life. I am Mila Evans. The words felt unreal in my mouth. A city I had dreamed of from far away, through late-night study sessions and dreaming big. And now, here I was. I turned to Jenna a girl I met at the camp and we became besties more like long lost sisters and surprisingly we ended up as roommates here to. My eyes wide. “Jenna, are you seeing this? This room looks amazing.” She glanced around casually and shrugged, dropping her bag on the bed. “Mila, stop being so dramatic.” Dramatic???!!!!! I pressed my lips together smiling to myself. That’s because you’re from a rich home, I thought. You’re used to things like this, rooms like this don’t impress you. For me, this was everything. The environment alone was more than I had expected clean, calm, and filled with a strange kind of promise. Sunlight poured in through the window brushing against the neatly made bed and the wooden desk as if welcoming me. Jenna didn’t seem impressed but I was living the moment I had always dreamed of. I knew this place would be filled with adventures, knowledge, new friends, and experiences I had never allowed myself to imagine. A place where I could finally become someone new or maybe, finally be myself. I hadn’t loved anyone since middle school. I had always chosen independence choosing my studies over distractions telling myself that feelings only complicated things. Love could wait. Dreams couldn’t. But now, standing here in a new city, I felt something shift inside me. Something loosens. Something brave. Maybe this time, I thought, I’ll try something new. “Mila?” Jenna called. I blinked, pulling back from my thoughts. “Yeah?” “What now?” I asked amused, already knowing she had a plan. “Let’s freshen up and take a walk around campus.” Right?… A few minutes later, we left the dorm more like a hotel of temporary residence till the program is over and stepped outside. The air felt different, cooler, lighter and charged with possibilities, Students moved around us, laughing, talking, living lives that suddenly felt within reach. I was just passing by. That was all it was supposed to be—an ordinary walk through unfamiliar paths, my mind still adjusting to an Academy I hadn’t even fully stepped into yet. And then I saw him. He was handsome in a way that felt almost unreal. A little more older but young,Effortlessly striking. The kind of face people would excuse anything for. But the moment I took in what was happening in front of me, that beauty turned hollow. He was bullying a girl. Not teasing. Not mocking. Bullying. I stood there trembling, my head bowed, while he loomed over her like he owned the ground beneath her feet. Beside him stood another girl—well-dressed, composed, clearly from his world. Their clothes matched in quiet arrogance, in class, in entitlement. They looked alike in everything that mattered. I watched, frozen, as he ordered the girl to kneel. To beg. For what, I didn’t know. For mercy? For amusement? And then it happened. A cake.buried right unto her face. Something inside me snapped. “No,” Jenna said urgently, gripping my hand. “Mila, don’t go. Please. Just mind your business.” I turned to her, my chest burning. “That’s a girl over there,” I said. “She’s being tortured. Being bullied.” Before she could stop me, I pulled my hand free and marched forward, fury guiding my steps. I didn’t think. I didn’t calculate. I didn’t care who he was or what kind of power he held. I punched him. My fist connected with his face, sharp and final, and the shock in his eyes almost surprised me. Gasps rippled around us, but I didn’t stay to absorb them. I grabbed the girl, pulled her up, and dragged her away from him. Before leaving, I turned back and warned him, my voice shaking but firm. “Stay away from her. And don’t you ever bully a girl again.” He stared at me like I was speaking gibberish. Then he leaned down, close enough that I could smell his cologne, his arrogance. “Game on, new girl,” he murmured. “I guess you don’t know the rules around here.” His words followed me even after he walked away. The girl who had been standing beside him stepped closer, her smile thin and sharp. “I see you’re the scholarship student,” she said coolly. “That’s why you don’t know where your wings are supposed to be placed.” I rolled my eyes, refusing to give her the satisfaction of a response, and walked away with the injured girl. After handing her water and a towel and cleaning her up, the world felt… strangely normal again. Too normal, considering what had just happened. I finally asked her the question that wouldn’t leave my mind. “Why did you let them bully you?” She looked at me with fear clouding her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I’m sorry for dragging you into this mess.” I frowned. “It’s not your fault.” “I know,” she said. “You were just trying to help me. But you shouldn’t have.” Her words sent a chill through me. “Now you’ve trapped yourself,” she continued. “In their holes. Their deadly plots. Those people… they’re evil. Change your name. Leave this school. Do something. Because right now, you’re in their enemy zone.” Enemy? The word echoed in my head. What kind of school is this? I hadn’t even started classes yet, and somehow I had enemies? It sounded absurd. Dramatic. Unreal. I didn’t let her fear become mine. This program is the last to accomplish my work live i didn’t want trouble. I handed her the towel again, told her to take care of herself, and went to find Jenna. When I did, neither of us spoke much as we walked back to our dorms. The next day marked my first official day in the program. The program was supposed to last only a short while, just a brief phase meant to introduce us to the Academy. But mine had been extended because of the work-class option I signed up for. At the time, it felt like a normal decision. Practical. Harmless. I dressed up thinking I was still normal—nothing excessive, just well-dressed. But the moment I arrived at the Academy, I felt it. Everything was different. The people looked different. Too different. There were faces that didn’t belong to an ordinary academic environment—every man here looks like a mafia. The ladies were different too, sharp and composed in a way that felt intimidating. Not like I had expected young students, I but I am young though the men were older, effortlessly striking, carrying themselves with a confidence that felt dangerous. I hesitated, then gathered my resolve and walked toward the school grounds. That was when it happened. A Rolls-Royce convoy sped past me at full force, its tires slicing through a puddle and splashing dirty water all over my clothes. I froze. Then anger surged through me. Without thinking, I waited until the cars parked and stormed toward the owner of the vehicle. And that was when I saw him. The same man. The one who had been bullying the girl the day before. Two men stepped out of the car—two men who looked every bit like mafia figures. I had thought I could handle one. But two? My stomach tightened. So this is what this program is hiding, I thought bitterly. Still, I walked straight up to him and confronted him about what he had just done. About the humiliation. About the disrespect. He laughed. Then he insulted me—called me cheap—and threw money in my face like I was nothing. The bills fluttered to the ground, and I felt a burning mix of shame and rage. I picked the money up and threw it back at him. “Everything isn’t about money,” I said, my voice shaking. “Not your wealth. Not your status. All I wanted was an apology.” He laughed again. “Me? Apologize to you?” he scoffed. “You must be joking.” Before I could say anything else, the other man beside him stepped forward. “That’s enough,” he said calmly. He was different. Gentler. Polite. “I’m sorry,” he told me sincerely. “He didn’t mean it.” The arrogant one scoffed, clearly uninterested, and stormed off toward the restroom. I stood there, trying to steady myself. That was when I noticed the girls watching me. A few of them—the same girls I had helped the day before also staring with lasers. They stared at me with wide eyes, and one of them finally whispered, “Do you know what you just did?” I frowned. “What?” “You challenged them,” she said. “The two highest-ranking mafias in this program they own this program and they even still fund it it’s literally their personal property. My heart skipped. She went on, explaining that one of them was the heir to a family whose father once sat at the very top of the mafia hierarchy before stepping down by choice. People like them didn’t just rule businesses—they owned everything around them, including this place. I felt a chill run through me. No one cared about fairness here. No one cared about education. Power ruled everything here. Thinking back at the way I just spoke to the owner of the program made me shiver How do I make it up, and I had an appointment with the head off Bizz Company later today.