Mafia Bloodlines A rivalry of Hearts

Pain was nothing new to Lydia Bailey.

She'd learned early that some people were born to be prey, and some were born to hunt. For years, she'd been convinced she was the former-a walking target, invisible except when someone wanted to remind her how little she mattered.

The bruise on her cheek was still fresh from yesterday. Amber Miller's ring had caught her just right, leaving a perfect crescent of purple and blue that matched the loneliness etched into Lydia's bones. Her mother would notice-she always did-but she'd say nothing. Just another silent look. Just another moment of pretending.

Silver-dale wasn't a school. It was a battlefield, and Lydia had never learned how to fight back.

The morning was typical. Cold. Gray. The kind of morning that promised nothing but more of the same. Lydia adjusted her worn hoodie, pulling it closer, trying to disappear into the fabric. Her fingers traced the new bruise, a ritual of survival she'd perfected over years of being the girl nobody saw-until they wanted to see her pain.

The classroom buzzed with the usual noise, but something felt different. Different for Lydia, at least.

Mr. Harrison's voice droned on about medieval literature, but all Lydia could focus on was the overwhelming sensory assault. The strawberry shampoo of the girl two rows ahead. The leather of Janet's new shoes. The sharp scent of the pencil sharpener at the back of the room.

"Ms. Bailey?" Mr. Harrison's voice cut through her thoughts. "Would you care to share your interpretation of the text?"

Lydia blinked, her mind racing. She'd been reading the passage, hadn't she? But now, the words seemed to swim on the page. "I... I'm sorry," she stammered.

A crumpled paper hit the back of her head. Laughter erupted.

"Nice one, loser," someone muttered.

Nothing new. She was used to being the target.

Her ears-no, that wasn't possible. Her hearing couldn't be this sharp. She'd watched too many supernatural movies. This was just her imagination playing tricks.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Harrison," Lydia mumbled again, her cheeks burning.

The bell rang. Sweet escape.

Lydia needed space. Needed to breathe. The wooded area behind the school was her sanctuary. Nobody ever came here. Nobody except her. Until today.

"Well, well. Look who we have here."

Amber Miller. Of course.

Her shoes crunched on the fallen leaves. Melissa and Janet accompanied her, like some kind of mean girl squad from a bad teen movie.

"We've been looking for you," Amber said, her voice dripping with that special kind of cruelty reserved just for Lydia. "Where is our assignment?"

Lydia stood, holding the straps of her backpack tightly. "I... I didn't have time."

Amber's smirk vanished. "Didn't have time?" she repeated, stepping closer. "Do you know what that means for us? We don't have time to deal with your pathetic excuses, Loser."

"You're such a waste," Melissa added, circling Lydia slowly, like a vulture. "Your dad should've released you in the trash."

"Oh my God," Janet chimed in, giggling. "That's so true! He could've saved us all from this disaster of a human being."

Amber's smile widened as Lydia's breathing quickened. Her chest rose and fell like she was struggling for air

"Look at her," Melissa sneered. "Daddy issues written all over her face. I'm sure he left because he couldn't stand looking at such an ugly, useless piece of trash."

Janet joined in, her words like daggers. "And your mom's just as pathetic. Probably works some minimum wage job, hoping you'll amount to something. Spoiler alert: you won't."

Amber stepped even closer, her breath hot on Lydia's face. "Nobody wants you. Nobody will ever want you. You're nothing. Less than nothing. A ghost. A mistake."

"Bet you can't even afford new clothes," Melissa laughed. "Everything's second-hand. Just like your life."

"I heard her mom can barely pay rent," Janet said loudly. "Probably gonna end up homeless. Some people are just born to fail."

Amber's final blow came with a cruel smile. "No wonder you're always alone. Who'd want to be friends with someone so pathetic? You're not even worth bullying. You're just... existing. And barely."

Lydia couldn't hear them anymore. Her ears were ringing, her vision blurring. Lydia was really struggling at this point

"What's wrong with her?" Amber asked, raising an eyebrow. "You gonna cry, loser? Or maybe hit us."

Lydia hands began to tremble. But it wasn't from weakness.

Amber leaned in close. "I said, are you going to hit us?"

The first change happened in her hands. Fingers lengthening. Nails hardening. Something wild and uncontrollable erupting from deep within.

A growl-not human, not entirely animal-escaped her throat.

Amber's eyes widened. For the first time, fear replaced her usual contempt.