14. Chapter 14

Jade

The next morning starts bright and early. Remo is personally responsible for pulling Nico, Matteo, and me all out of bed and getting us sorted to go down to breakfast. We each have classes to attend to after we feast, and Remo gives us schedules for that as well. Who knew he'd be the responsible one when Armani wasn't around?

After we eat, I barely have a moment to collect myself before Remo pulls me around campus to my first class. Apparently, it's one of the earliest ones. And it's for cooking, which has me letting out a sigh of relief. I know I'll have a fight training class at some point, and not having one bright and early in the morning is definitely a plus.

Remo makes sure I'm all set, sitting down at a desk before he has to leave to go to his own class. The room he puts me in is already mostly full, and mostly girls, which I expected. There are a few guys, though, sitting together toward the back.

I fiddle with my fingers, not ready to try and meet any of my classmates yet. Maybe next time, I tell myself. Classes are every other day in most cases to leave time for studying and activities outside of class. When you have intense fight training, breaks are necessary to prevent injury.

This particular class is supposed to have two days in between every session since it's an elective that you're allowed to double up with. If you take cooking, you can also take a baking class and this schedule allows that. I wonder if I'm in a baking class too? I really should have asked more questions about my schedule before classes began.

"Alright class, enough idle chit-chat, let's get this introduction over with and get to work." The familiar voice has me looking to the door, debating on fleeing.

She doesn't see me as she drops her things onto her desk, shrugging her coat off onto the back of her chair. She doesn't see any of us, actually, because she hasn't even looked up yet. Straightening out her blouse, her perfectly painted fingers wrap around her disposable coffee cup, bringing it to her red lips. The teacher turns to write on the board as she sips her drink.

"This is Intro to Cooking, a culinary basics class for mafia princesses," she announces, scrawling out the title of the course and her name beneath it. "I'm here to teach you how not to piss off your husbands with burnt food or a burned-down kitchen."

She sighs, beginning to write a list. "You'll learn five dishes by the end of the term. Starting with the most rudimentary. Eggs, chicken, steak, pasta, and rice.

I can't tell if she's trying to be blunt or trying to be rude.

Something tells me she's not trying to be kind.

Also, why am I in a class for culinary basics? I'm not going to learn anything Martha hasn't already taught me or that I never figured out fending for myself while living with Kim. I mean, I learned how to cook an egg like eight years ago at this point, and Martha has seriously upped my game since I moved in.

Is there a guidance counselor here? How do people switch classes if they need to? Should I email Dad?

"Now, what do we have here?"

I stiffen, looking up from my table to find her staring straight at me.

"Lorna, good to see you," I greet lamely, attempting to pull my shoulders back.

I really wish one of my brothers would have warned me about this. I knew she was an instructor here, but I didn't think she'd be one of mine!

"Ms. Moretti," she returns, flashing a killer smirk. "Jade, isn't it? How interesting that you're in my class. I was so hoping I would get to see more of you."

Oh god. Why is this woman so mad at me?

Armani is my brother, I'm hardly a threat if he's who she wants. Although, I wouldn't love having her as my brother's girlfriend. Especially since she looks at me like she's like to cut my hair off… or my whole head.

"I think there might be a mistake," I say carefully.

Her responding laugh is ear-piercing, so much so that I wince.

"And why is that? Do you think you're too advanced to be here? You?"

What the hell is that supposed to mean?

"Respectfully—" disrespectfully "—there's nothing on that list that I need to learn. I already know?—"

"Oh, I bet you do," she cuts in, chuckling. "The spoiled ones always think they know."

Spoiled?I'm spoiled now?

I mean, I definitely don't think I've acted spoiled. She could claim that I'm blessed with everything my family provides for me now, but if she knew what my life was like before meeting them, I don't think she could call me ever spoiled again.

"I should have been expecting this class," she addresses the room, letting out a disappointed exhale. "Every year there's at least one student who thinks they're above taking Intro to Cooking. Ms. Moretti isn't special in her delusion," Lorna tells them, her sharp red nails clicking against her desk in an impatient rhythm.

Delusion— I bite my tongue, waiting for her to finish this villainous monologue attempt. Armani is going to hear a piece of my mind when I get out of class. My hope for this being a scheduling error is lost, but there's still a chance he didn't know. I doubt he would have insulted her like he did in my defense on the boat if he did. All of my brothers actively avoid doing things to make my life even a little bit harder. I mean, Armani literally makes my plate if I'm rolling out of bed late for breakfast at home.

"And since this is such a regular occurrence, there is, of course, a solution." My ears perk up at the mention of a solution. There are a lot of things I would do to get out of this course. A harder cooking class would be a million times better than an entire semester with this woman who clearly does not like me.

"In true Empire fashion, there's a first-year challenge any student in this class is free to take." I can tell by the way her smirk quirks up and the way her eyes flash with excitement that the task won't be an easy one. She's already looking at me like I've lost, but all I can think while looking at her smug little face is; a challenge, you say…

Maybe I have good luck with challenges, I've already won one here.

A girl, whom I've learned is named Ana Knight, politely raises her hand, only speaking up when Lorna calls on her for her question.

"What is the challenge exactly?"

I'm not sure whether Lorna instantly loves or despises the girl for the question. Ana Knight, from what I've seen, is a nice person. She's a gorgeous Asian woman around my age who looks like she's been on the cover of Vogue before. I don't think she's ever seen a blemish on her face or a split end. She's that flawless type of beauty you almost can't believe when you see it with your eyes.

Like me, she's newer to this world. According to Matteo, her mother married Bron Knight—Monarch to The Kings—three years ago. It was a love match, not arranged. Her mom is a painter, and Bron fell in love with her art and then her.

Ana is here with one of her step-brothers Cole, and his older brother Killian has already guaranteed a hit on anyone who dares to mess with her. Killian, having graduated from Empire, isn't here to keep an eye on her, but that doesn't mean he isn't a threat. Matteo says that most people are pretty sure he hates her guts for adding to his workload, but he disagrees.

Love and hate look a lot alike, according to my youngest brother.

Lorna controls herself, scanning the class. "The only way to skip this class with credit for it is to prove yourself within the first week of the semester. You'll need to cook something—anything you want—and serve it to someone without allegiance to your family. If they like it, you'll be automatically moved into the next class up."

That's it? Cook something for someone who isn't owned by The Outfit and have them enjoy it?

"I thought that might be what you meant," Ana says, this time not raising her hand. She seems less than pleased, looking Lorna right in the eye with disapproval. "Cole says that challenge is a humiliation tactic, and you're not supposed to be able to issue it without informing us about how it typically goes for students."

Oh, Ana has got guts to go along with that pretty face. Sassing off to a teacher? God, I wish I had the bravery for that.

Flashing a tight smile Lorna looks away from the girl and more broadly addresses the class. "I was just getting to the stakes, Ms. Knight."

"I'm sure," Ana agrees, nodding along.

Damn, someone get me some of that British bite. Her pretty face, sweet demeanor, but take no shit attitude is enviable, to say the least. Her adorable London accent is just the cherry on top.

"No one in the last ten years has won the first-year challenge. It has built a reputation for being… less than favorable for those who take it on."

"Why?" someone from the back of the class calls out.

Lorna isn't so smug as she answers. "There is nothing preventing whomever you ask to try your food from throwing it away in front of you."

"Or throwing it in your face," Ana adds tightly, clearly not skirting around the facts. "Or making fun of you for the rest of the semester for even attempting."

Harsh. Has that really happened?

Lorna waves her off. "Yes, yes, well, it is a challenge, is it not?" Turning her attention back to me, she flashes a sickly sweet grin. "Not all of us are built for the risks that come associated with the harder things in life, are we?"

Did this lady just insinuate I'm too weak for this? For a fucking cooking challenge that might get me laughed at? Oh, she has no idea.

Meeting her eyes, I offer a sweet smile in return. "Do we have access to the kitchen for the challenge?"

She falters for a moment before nodding. "Yes. Anyone who wants to take the challenge has access to the kitchens and a week to complete it. You are only allowed to ask one student to taste your food. If you're rejected, your challenge is over, and you do not get a second chance."

Shit, one chance is a bit harsh. Too bad I've already decided I'm going to do it. Nothing would bring me more satisfaction than making this challenge my bitch.

My stubborn nature has been able to flourish since meeting my family. No one punishes me for it, and I'm safe to let that part of my personality shine. It seems stubbornness is a heavily genetic trait because each and every one of my brothers can be even worse than me when they've got their minds set on something.

"Easy enough," I say, shrugging. "I'll do it."

A few whispers break out, I think someone even gasps.

"Perhaps you'd like to consult one of your brothers first," she offers, attempting to sound caring. "We wouldn't want you to get in over your head with something you don't quite understand."

It seems like that's exactly what you want, actually.

"No, thank you," I reply, brushing her off. "My brothers don't control my education. I'm sure they'd agree I'm more than up to the task."

"Cocky," she comments to the class. "She's a Moretti, after all."

Oh, yes, I sure am. I know my limits, and this challenge is about to lose its ten-year winning streak. I know just who I'm going to ask to try my food, and it's going to be the best damn thing he's had in months, mark my words.

I have no desire to become some top chef, but a first-year cooking class will not be my downfall. Winning this challenge is going to be the thing that lets people know I belong here. A new girl, yes. A mafia princess in the making? Also yes.

"And as a Moretti," I say, tightly clenching my jaw, thinking of her earlier statement. "I'm not a good cook, for my future husband's sake. I don't need homemaker skills to fetch a good one. I just need to be alive."

"And with nine brothers, that's not hard to do," Ana chimes, fueling her own amusement. Thank you, Ana Knight, for your bold tongue. You rock, sister.

Lorna clears her throat, clearly frazzled. "All we have for today is going over the syllabus and a kitchen tour. You'll need to study the safety rules before our next meeting so we can get to work. If you hurt yourself cooking, it's your own fault, and Empire Academy will not be held responsible for stupidity."

The remaining time is used to go over the plan for the semester and a rushed tour of the kitchen. It's a big commercial kitchen with four identical sections to work in, all of them decked out with stainless steel appliances and granite countertops. The course is set up so that students work in teams in order to facilitate better learning.

We do a tour of the equipment stock, labeling cabinets, and drawers with sticky notes. Cutting boards, knives, spoons, plates, pots, pans, and more. There's a huge food stock as well, and Ana forces Lorna to admit that people participating in the cooking challenge are not limited to what we have here. We're allowed to take raw ingredients from the cafeteria as well. This bit of helpful information gives me a lot more options to work with.

When forty minutes have gone by, it's decided that we're done for the day.

"Class is dismissed, don't bother me until our next one," Lorna sneers, exiting the room before any of the students.

"I don't know why Empire pays her when we could learn to cook with YouTube tutorials," I hear a student mutter.

Yeah, what she said!

Well, I'm not contributing to her salary any more than I have to. I'm getting this done soon. I follow the crowd out of the classroom and decide to go find Armani. My next class isn't until after lunch, and I need to ask if he knows about Lorna. But first, I want to thank Ana. What she did was really nice, whether she did it for me or not.

We make it outside before I have the nerve to jog and catch up with her.

"Hey, wait," I call out, falling in step behind her.

The beautiful girl turns on her heels, finding me approaching.

"Ana, right?" I ask nervously, holding out my hand for a shake.

She eyes my outstretched arm before accepting the greeting. We share a quick clasp of hands before letting go of each other.

"I just wanted to say it was cool of you to let everyone know about the challenge. I don't think Lorna was banking on me having all of the information."

She dips her head, agreeing. "No big deal."

"I also wanted to say that if you wanted out of the class, I could ask Matteo to try your food. He'd never throw it at you, and?—"

"No," she interrupts. "No, thank you."

"Oh, er, that's okay?—"

"It's nice of you to offer," Ana cuts in, trying to smooth over such an abrupt rejection. "But Cole will lose his shit if I speak to Matteo, much less feed him."

My eyebrows dip down. "I thought my brothers were okay with the Knight Family. I mean, we don't have ties, but…"

"Cole doesn't want me speaking to any men," she explains with a shrug. "If he had it his way, they'd all spontaneously combust for merely looking in my direction."

"Intense," I comment, blinking.

"It is what it is."

I suppose she's right. No use dwelling on the things we can't control.

"Do you… do you maybe want to hang out sometime?" God, it sounds like I'm asking her on a date!

"No," Ana answers, not even pausing to consider it.

Knife meet heart. Making friends sucks.

"Oh, okay," I blurt, taking a step back. Thanks for letting me down easy, Ana, damn.

She stops me before I can flee. "Can I give you a piece of advice?"

Please make it a nice one.

"Yeah?"

"Don't try to make friends here."

"I—"

Ana doesn't give me the opportunity to question her. "Your brothers, they've made plenty of acquaintances here, yes? Probably told you who it's okay for you to approach and who you should avoid? They've labeled me as a safe bet for you, right?"

Mutely, I nod.

"They aren't wrong, I have no desire to bring you harm in any way. That doesn't mean you should want to be my friend. Not here."

Relieving to hear, but still confusing.

"You'll notice very quickly that girls aren't as friendly here, why do you think that is?" Ana asks, tilting her head at me.

"Um, to keep people away?" I guess.

Her intense brown eyes scan our surroundings before she takes a step closer to me and lowers her voice. "Women should always be on guard in this world, especially here. Just because we can't kill each other doesn't mean we can't be stabbed in the back. Men fight with their fists, and women fight with their brains.

"You don't know me, or any other girl here. You don't know what they would do to win the favor of their family. What lies they'd tell or who they'd befriend under false pretenses. Empire is an illusion of safety. You may not be hit in the face outside of fight training, but your head isn't automatically safe from other kinds of blows."

"Oh?"

"Guard your secrets," she says lowly. "Use this time to get closer with your brothers. Build friendships with them. Avoid anyone who seems too eager to get in your good graces. Even the nicest girls would trade your torment for their benefit. You don't know what they go through at home or the things they would do to improve their circumstances, understand?"

Loud and clear. Unfortunately, this lovely bit of advice only makes me wish we were friends more.

"Yes, that's really helpful, thank you." I look down at my feet, unsure what else to say or when to make myself scarce.

"And," she says, letting out a breath. "If you still want to hang out after this semester is over, I'd be happy to have it organized. Making friends should be done in an environment where actions have consequences. You can't build something worth keeping when it's crafted with unstable materials."

Oh wow.

My whole mood lightens up, and my face flushes.

"That'd be cool," I say quickly. "I'd like that a lot."

"Cool," she echoes. "See you around, new girl. Stay safe."

"You too," I reply happily, watching as she turns away and heads off to wherever she needs to be. I feel like jumping up and down and squealing with excitement.

My first friend, sorta! Something to look forward to at least.