TWO

MARWA XAVIER NIXON.

I jolted awake at the blaring sound of my alarm on my nightstand grumbling profanities under my breath as Enzo barged into my room looking like a rat high on crack.

"Get the fuck up! We're late!" He shouted turning around, his shaggy brown hair swaying as he shook me from my still sleepy daze with hard jabs. I groaned kicking off his hits.

"We're in college, you dumb fuck! Not high school. It's never late," I exclaimed back at him.

I stretched begrudgingly. The three hours of sleep I had were absolute shit and quite unfulfilling as I trekked to my adjacent bathroom doing my morning routine to change my clothes.

Changing my undergarments and throwing on a tight black t-shirt. Black jeans with my grey vans and leather jacket. I sighed washing my face to continue with my daily routine feeling the fatigue fuck me in every bone in my body. Fuck, I hate life.

Sighing tiredly, I put on some light makeup to conceal the bags under my eyes, applying my eyeliner, mascara and some lipgloss to my full lips.

I grabbed my laptop, keys and phone chucking them into my backpack as I found Enzo freshly dressed making us some breakfast-if you'd call it that.

The man couldn't cook for shit. I mean if you count burnt eggs and french toast as breakfast. Hell, even him making coffee would end in a disaster. I know it did last week.

I cringed shaking off the memory.

"How was the job yesterday?" He asked briskly pouring me a cup of juice.

"Thank you. It was shitty but simple," I answered sipping the refreshing liquid.

He hummed as we had breakfast in silence till the timer I set started blaring and Enzo and I took off to the elevator down to his car.

We leisurely walked as his slick BMW M8 with its unique fern green color stood out in the sea of fancy sports cars.

I loved his car but the color choice was a bit dumb on his side. But what was I supposed to do? The man didn't budge on wanting to get it repainted in a more dark color. He loved green -light green mind you- way too much and the casual suit he had on proved me right.

I shook my head with a smile.

"Hop in, Bebe," he opened the door for me bowing like a dimwit bringing a cheeky grin to my face at his antics.

"Thanks, dipshit. But I think we're late enough," I muttered as he got on the driver's seat starting the car, its smooth purr revved to life.

"You mean we might have missed a class," he pressed the gas pedal and we took off.

I leaned back in my seat making my tense muscles relax a bit.

"Oh whatever, professor Brooks is practically a male Karen and I honestly didn't want to see his ugly face this fine morning," I chortled with a wince at the overly grumpy and overweight mean fifty-year-old.

Enzo laughed shaking his head at my valid description of said man.

"You really hate him don't you?" he joked and I rolled my eyes with a huff.

"Bro, please. Every living human being hates that man. He literally doesn't explain shit and expects us to get actual good marks on those brainy tests of his," I groaned.

And Enzo took the last turn and we get out of the car after parking it.

"Well, that is true," Enzo agreed with a laugh throwing an arm around my shoulders, his 6'2 frame lightly matching my 5'9 one as we walked through the empty parking lot.

I shuddered visibly. Ugh. People. Some were sitting. Some conversing among themselves and others were running to probably get to class earlier.

Freshmen.

And Enzo and I walked to our wanted destination not before messing the eyes of some curious onlookers. I glared at the nosy bastards to check the watch on my phone seeing that we were a bit early for our management class.

My favorite class at that too.

Miss Farhan was the best professor to ever exist. And I swear to all that is holy that she might be an angel.

I had her the last semester and loved the way she interacted and actually gave a fuck about teaching us something and she was incredibly nice and kind while doing her job.

She was the kind of a teacher that would offer to help their students if they had trouble. I've seen how friendly and pleasant she was to everyone.

Her class was important for me to attend as it was one of the primary ones I needed to pass to attain my diploma.

My mom's company was depending on me to take charge of it as she was leaving it for me when I graduated. And I didn't want her work to go to waste. So I studied and busted my ass through these three years to get here.

Managing in Business was not my first option in mind when I graduated high school but what can I do.

My mom was all I had left, she's all I had since baba died.

And I'm sure as fuck am going to make her proud. My father's Mafia was already being taken care of and I was keen on taking it over as soon as I handled and balanced my shit.

Enzo's brother Dalton was taking lead on the Mafia until I finished school and I was impossibly grateful for his help.

And I must say that Dal as I called him was doing a great job at it. I trusted him and always will. He was the older brother I wished I had.

He and Enzo had an unbreakable brotherly bond and I wished I had a sister or a brother to have that kind of connection with.

I was snapped out of my stupor when Lorenzo Alessio DiAllevo-- my fucking best friend-flicked my forehead.

"Ouch, you fucker!" I yelped as we neared the lecture hall, a few people glancing at us like we were crazy about our bantering as I elbowed the dimwit.

He moaned in pain clutching his side.

"Don't overdo it, you're dramatic as it is, Lorenzo," I snorted making him glare at me for the use of his full name knowing how much he hated the name his father gave him.

I snickered at my thought of the unpleasant dickwaded swine his father was.

"Fuck you," he mumbled with a glare.

"When and where," I winked and he tôt over his fatal injury to laugh again.

Getting inside the half-full class, Enzo and I strolled to the back seats. Huffing as we sat when people started flooding through the double door.

I pulled out my laptop setting it aside and scrolled through my phone as a message came through my work number.

Unknown: Requesting services.

Me: Who? when? payment?

The standard questions I was to ask were practically ingrained in my brain with nails as my thumb pressed send.

And I waited for a reply glancing as the rest of the class was filled. Miss Farhan greeted us all with a 'good morning' and started our lesson for the day.

My entire focus was on the small gadget clutched in my hand. My eyes dropped dejectedly at the answer from the unknown customer.

Unknown: The Martinez twins, tomorrow.