She had gotten a couple days of respite due to the start of a new term. But the bimba call had finally come in. Never mind that she was 'grieving'. The La Cosa Nostra had it's own demands. And the world wouldn't let her forget for too long what she was. 

New York was the most know to the public for it's crime activities. But where else would the La Cosa Nostra and Bratva clash the most then right at home in Europe.

He pulled her out of school for five days. And she knew who else would be pulled. They all gave the same shitty excuse. 'Hiking'. 

Apple and her family were flying over to the country for those few days, at a neutral zone beach resort. Where all the mafia brats and their extended family would gather for night after night of classy parties, underaged drinking, and night soirees. Otherwise a front for cartels, illegal gambling, and worse.

"Mammina I said I'm fine," Apple's mother only called when the family business was involved. Otherwise, she didn't give two shits about her daughter. "But my angioletto suffering! I told him you need time but eh know your papi, he don't listen." 

Apple's mother spoke either in broken english, or full blown italian, so it was hard to understand her through the static of the phone speaker. Regardless, Apple had gotten the gist of her excuses. And for once, she wasn't sorry for another filial call to duty. For once, she was excited. Scared out of her mind. But mostly excited. All the fear that held her back had died in the headmistress's office that morning. And now, she thrilled at the possibility of vengeance.

A black sedan came for her at the front of the academy gates. A dark suited man in the drivers seat. A perfect stranger. Guess they had found out she was sleeping with the last one.

Another pair of cars pulled up behind her own. Some more dark men filing out to load in leather cased luggage. But those ones weren't for her. She got in the sedan and told him to drive. She didn't want to stick around long enough to meet who those other cars were expecting. At least, not yet.

 She was in an indie mcmansion's brown wrinkly top. And had gaudy big stone necklaces layered onto her neck to make her look as tuscan as possible. Just because she was going into a nightmare, didn't mean she couldn't style herself for the mood. The driver escorted her to her the plane alone. Her parents were already waiting at the resort. And she would get there by morning after the flight and a long drive.

It was a 2am flight, but she couldn't sleep. Whether it was her upcoming revenge at fault, or the apprehension of her fathers strange tone over the phone, o Maddie fucking Blythe looming over her head, she couldn't begin to guess. There was just too much to worry about. And it was only after her breakfast was down the toilet from the wrong end, and she was in the car headed off to the beach, when her cramps had weakened enough for her eyelids to surrender to the heaviness.

"Birichina!" a loud yelp startled her awake. Her muscles ached from sleeping in an awkward position. She looked around groggily, squinting at the sky that had gotten much brighter since she'd gotten into the car.

Chipper italian prattled outside the car, followed by the clacking of heels and a gorgeous astute woman. She was bobbing a fat, low black bun, red cherry lips, and layers of massacre. A large hat sat on her head and a dozen designer bags hung from her arms. Apple's mamma.

"My totara you are late, the reception already begun!"

Apple forced herself out of the car seat, mumbling that the plane had gotten delayed. But the italian woman didn't care. She was already nit picking at Apple's hair, clothes, and eye bags, and was dragging her along through the beige tiled walkways to a large building overhead. 

"They cannot see you like this, cazzo! No no no, bring it in the back!" Apple's mother gestured erratically at the resort stewards, more then comfortable to abuse them in italian as if they were her own staff. "Imbeciles!"

She dragged Apple through the back door and got them in their hotel room. It was just as luxurious as all the ones before. Golden sheets, red carpeting, sculpted mirrors and the rest. Apple didn't care for any of it. She just went somewhere far away in her mind.

"Oh you will look splendor!" 

Her mother pulled from her own trunk a dress and pressed it up against Apple.

Apple's mother always seemed to manage to dress her daughter sluttier then the girl dressed herself. And tonight, she had out done herself spectacularly. A little pink dress that left nothing to the imagination. Low cut to just above her nipple, only long enough to hug her curves, and backless to boot!

Apple just took it all in silent surrender. Not just from exhaustion, but also because her mother hit just as hard as her father.

"Mio Bambina, beautiful!"

Apple didn't even get a chance to glimpse herself before she was pushed  back into the elevator. Although, she didn't need to look to know what she would see. Appalla Bloodworth. With her curls straightened and stretched into a high ponytail. Her usual brown smoky eye replaced with baby pink eye shadow and a sharp black liner. And her signature red lips stolen for a sassy mauve. 

She felt the difference. Felt how heavy the foundation she never wore was on her face. How dry the lipstick that wasn't hers was on her lips. And the migraine, god the fucking migraine the ponytail brought. But it was good. She needed to feel the difference. It helped to channel the other persona.

The elevator doors began to open. "Smile," her mother whispered to her, before she pranced off to accost her fellow gun molls with kisses.

Apple took a step into the hotel foyer, decorated up for a classy wine tasting and chat, in black heels that weren't worn in.

Immediately, she spotted the other italic girls her age at the bar. She didn't want to go. But she knew she would.

"Pancy!" she hollered across the room, doing her mini heel jog and a glass she had taken off a tray in the air. The girls all giddily welcomed her, showering her in air kisses and soft hugs. God she hated them.

"Thank god your here Appalla, I don't know how we were going to make it through this thing without you," 

Pancy, the girl Apple could stand the most giggled. Apple just laughed, 

"Oh I'm sure you girls would have found some Moskal idiot to entertain yourselves with." 

They all turned to glance at the other side of the room, where all the Bratva's were signing deals and smoking cigars in clear segregation. There was always war within the La Costra Nostra, but nothing brought pasta loving idiots together better then the Bratva.

The russians kept to their side, and the italians on the other, no one mixed. No one. Except for the big men negotiating upstairs. And the traitors of the Grasso family who had defected to the other side.

"Theres only one Moskal I wanna get involved with, and his already fucked half the girls here," a red dressed one chipped, and they all laughed together.

Apple knew who she was talking about well. And she refrained from following the eyes of the red dressed girl, along with the rest of the herd, to the figure behind her. Probably dressed in full black, with husky cologne, and fucking vodka in his hand. He really thought he was the shit. Well of course he did, when even the enemy drooled over him. 

Apple was too exhausted after the flight to deal with him today. So in an attempt to divert attention from him, and keep him from growing a bigger ego, she suddenly blurted,

"Darlings, what do you say we bring some boys out to the pool, you know, leave these made men to their business," 

she eyed the girls playfully, and they all looked at each other knowingly. Anything involving Appalla Bloodworth always meant a good time, and trouble, but thats just what all these hollow girls needed tonight. An escape. Some wine. And a little bit of danger.