Page 19 of Welcome to the Sins of Blackstone
Maria exhales beside me, and when I glance at her, her eyes are locked on mine.
“You don’t have to fight him,” she says quietly.
I lift a hand, brushing a knuckle against her jaw. “It’s not about need, it’s about proving no one touches what’s mine.” She will learn how our families work, and how you can never back down from a fight. Never.
She inhales sharply but doesn’t argue. She knows this isn’t just about us anymore. It’s about everything. Our families, ownership of the town, everything.
And tonight, under Blackstone, I ‘m going to prove exactly who it all, to include her, belongs to.
Chapter 9
Maria
The halls buzz with whispers, but none of them settle the weight in my chest. It isn’t just the fight, it's where it’s happening. Somewhere even the boldest students refuse to talk about it out loud.
A lot of the students said they don’t know where it is. Yet the fight is all anyone is talking about.
Jo walks beside me, quiet for once. Even she understands the weight of what is happening. While in class today she told me about what the underground is.
The underground layers of Blackstone Academy aren’t just a place for fights, there is a system. Beneath, are hidden layers of stone and history, a secret society that thrived in the darkness. Deals were made, alliances forged, blood spilled. It was where the unspoken rules of Blackstone were enforced.
A divided world beneath the college, ruled by the very families who control the city above. Each section of the underground belongs to a different syndicate, each space reflecting the power and legacy of the families who ran them.
And tonight, I’m walking straight into it.
The air is thick with cigarette smoke and the scent of whiskey and beer. Dim lights flicker above, casting eerie shadows alongthe cracks on the stone walls. The underground tunnels are older than the college itself, a hidden relic from a time when men made decisions in the dark, where secrets were buried along with the dead.
We reach the entrance, an old, rusted metal door at the end of a forgotten hallway. It looks abandoned, like it hasn’t been touched in years. But when Jo presses her palm against the hidden scanner behind a loose brick, the door unlocks with a heavyclick.
The walls seem to breathe as we step inside.
Cold. Damp. Ancient.
Jo told me the Messina’s built this place, literally and politically. Their name shaped these halls long before any of us walked them.
I swallow hard as we move deeper. Students I don’t recognize lounge against the walls.
We stand in the middle, and I scan around taking it all in. Remembering everything Jo was telling me about the wings.
The Italian Wing. The Messina family hold their space in the underground with silent authority. Their section is sleek, lined with dark leather couches and gold accents. A long wooden table sits in the center. Training is brutal here. Young men of the family are taught discipline, strategy, and the art of control. Here, you learn not just to fight, but to command.
The Irish Wing. The O'Brien family’s section is rougher. Bare brick walls, whiskey bottles stacked in corners, the scent of cigars lingering in the air. The Irish believe in strength first, power through force. Fists fly more often than words, and respect is earned in blood. It is where boys become warriors, forged in brutality and loyalty.
The Russian Wing. The Petrov family owns a section as cold as their reputation. Silent. Deadly. Efficient. Their space feels like a war room, dimly lit, lined with weapons on the walls. Theirtraining is precise, calculated, lethal. They work in the shadows. You don’t see a Petrov strike until you are already bleeding.
The Other Factions. There are others, too. The Cartel kids have their own area, filled with cigar smoke and the scent of burning money. The Triads keep to themselves, but everyone knows their part of the underground was where secrets were kept and sold. Each family has their space. Their sanctuary. Their training ground. But the center of the underground? It’s neutral.
The fighting circle sits in the middle of it all. The only place where families clash but only when an agreement is made. No random fights. No betrayals. When two names are spoken for a fight, it’s law.
Tonight, Massimo and Liam are to step into that circle, and only one of them will walk away as the victor.
I see Massimo first talking to Sebastian, his best friend. I stop just far enough away so I’m not noticeable, yet close enough to hear what they are saying. Sebastian slaps Massimo a few times, then starts laughing, after calling him something under his breath.
Massimo catches my eye mid-conversation, grins, and leans in without warning. His kiss is fast, firm, possessive. Like he’s claiming me in front of everyone, and I don’t want him to stop.
“Maria, this is Sebastian, the man who will stand next to me until one of us dies.” I don’t laugh at the moment like they both do, because it’s not something which should be joked about.
“Watch, it will be me first,” Sebastian jokes, then turns to me. “Nice to meet my future sister-in-law. You know you can still run; I’ll hold him back for you.” He teases with me, and Massimo pushes him away, telling him to fuck off.
