by Ivy Clyde
CAUGHT
IN THE TRAP
Mafia Lords of Knightswood Academy I
IVY CLYDE
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2020 by Ivy Clyde. All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be used or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted and reproduced in any manner or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording or whatsoever without written permission of the author.
For information contact, Ivy Clyde
Table of Contents
CAUGHT IN THE TRAP
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
Ready for the next part in Skye’s journey?
About Ivy
CAUGHT IN THE TRAP
Caught in the middle of a power struggle between two warring mafia families, can I really escape with my life intact?
Life was all about work, school and making sure there was always enough money to pay for my mother’s treatment until the day everything came to a standstill.
A powerful and ruthless monarch of an underground mafia network summons me in his den. See, even though I am still in high school, I am also a hacker. It’s not something I am proud of but it pays our bills.
And by chance, I have been working for one of his lackeys.
He has all the evidence to incriminate me, ensuring I spend years in prison. And he isn’t just holding my life and future in his hands. He is holding my mother’s too.
I am given a choice.
Enroll in an elite prep school meant for the filthy rich- the elusive Knightswood Academy and actively seek out Dimitri Volkov and Andrei Romanoff, heirs from two opposing mafia families who are about to turn the city into a battlefield. As if the role of a spy wasn’t dangerous enough, I am tasked with hacking into their business portals to locate a particular file.
“But…why me?” A question I ask aloud.
“Because you have the face of the girl they both loved. You have both the talent and the means to pry out their secrets.”
Of course, he didn’t mention the girl I looked like was murdered by the very people I was supposed to spy on. And just like that, I am caught in the devil’s trap.
I knew I was risking my life by agreeing to do this, but I never thought it was my heart that I was pawning.
Caught in the Trap is the first book in the Mafia Lords of Knightswood Academy series, a contemporary reverse harem high school bully romance series.
Note: The Mafia Lords of Knightswood Academy is a reverse harem series meant for mature readers who enjoy their academy bully romances with no restraint to language, violence and a few heated scenes.
1
Skye
Bodies jostled against me as I headed toward the lockers to the far side of the corridor. The bell signifying the start of the first period had just shrieked out, making the narrow hallway swell with students hurrying to get inside their classrooms. People openly shouted and cursed each time someone collided with them but I stayed quiet, pulling the hood of my jacket further down my face.
The phone in my pocket buzzed. Taking it out, I read the following text.
Math, English and World History test papers for eleventh grade. Kensington High. Need them by tomorrow- Sergei
A hard body collided against me, almost slamming me into the wall to my left.
“Move it, dipshit,” said a harsh male voice.
Instead of cursing out at the dude who’d pushed into me, I stayed where I was, keeping my head bowed. With the hoodie covering my face, the frown twisting my features was safely hidden. The six-foot hulk of a soccer player stalked past me, already bored and thinking I didn’t deserve his time.
Pushing off the wall, I rubbed my aching shoulder as my eyes glared at the back of Brian Palmer who took the same Math class as me. I let a heavy pent-up breath escape my lips, trying to get rid of the frustration still coursing through me. Just because I took hits quietly, didn’t mean I liked being pushed around.
Unlike others, I didn’t have the luxury to get mad at the kids I went to school with.
Life had given me bigger battles to fight.
Bending down, I picked up my phone before another asshole could step on it and break the damn thing. The message on the screen flashed at me. Another frown came over my lips. Sergei wanted me to get him question papers for Kensington High. This particular job wouldn’t pay as high as the ones that came from Knightswood Academy, an elite prep school on the far side of Philly.
Still, he would pay me at least five hundred dollars for them, earning me enough money for food and bills for the next two months.
Got it, I texted back to Sergei, my employer, who used me to hack into the school portals around Philly. Every now and then, someone would need to pass an exam. Some were desperate to pass while others just wanted nice grades on their records.
Rich kids from Knightswood Academy were my favorite clients. They never batted an eye when Sergei asked for a few thousand dollars per test paper. That kind of money was chump change for them. Work from Kensington High kids made us less money because they were mostly jocks who were desperately trying to get into college on scholarship and needed to pass basic Math and English. Still, money was money, and I was only too happy to get work.
A scream cut through the general background noise of the corridor just as I got closer to the lockers.
The bottom of Sally Hale’s handbag had been ripped. The moment she took it out of her locker, the contents spilled on the floor.
“Who the fuck did this?” she shouted, glaring in every direction, holding the bag before her. Her dark eyes looked even more dangerous because of the copious amount of makeup she’d used around them. She was one of the formidable queen bees of Kensington High, making her a common target among her competitors. Aside from that, there were plenty of people who wanted revenge on her and cutting up her precious designer bag was an easy way to do so.
My gaze swept over the mess on the floor. Among the chapsticks, candies, and packets of paper tissues, I caught sight of a familiar card. It was Sally’s library card. Perfect, I thought, bending down on the floor. Keeping my hood in place, I quietly snatched it up while she was busy gathering onlookers to stare at her and give her the attention she so desperately craved.
Soon, a teacher came onto the scene to shoo the spectators away. Pocketing Sally’s card, I followed the herd, already a few minutes late to my first class of the day.
Once inside
, I walked past the rows of desks, heading to the middle row. It was the best spot to stay undetected by the teachers who had most of their attention on the idiots sitting in the back row. Hidden by bodies all around me, I could work away on a code or algorithm while tuning out the droning lectures that were boring enough to put almost everyone to sleep. Only a few kids at the front row paid any attention. They were the rare breed at Kensington High who had high aspirations for a better future.
Me? I just wanted to graduate and keep working for Sergei to pay off the bills that came from the private care center my mother was staying in. She’d ignored all the warning signs her body sent out, surviving on Tylenol and ibuprofen for years until cancer took over her completely. By the time her cancer was detected, it was already too late to hope for a complete cure.
My fists tightened as the teacher began the lesson. I forced myself to listen to him so my mind could be distracted from the ever-present worry hovering over me all the time.
I went through the usual routine, attending classes, keeping out of everyone’s way even when I was pushed or shoved. No one hung around with me. The ripped jeans, dark hoodie and the hunch of my shoulders kept people at bay. They weren’t interested in my pathetic life or me.
Truthfully, I preferred it that way. It was easier to work with Sergei and his people. They liked the fact that I was a loner. It was so much simpler to “take care” of a kid like me if I ever gave them any trouble.
At lunchtime, I got another text. This one was from Mary Sinclair who ran a high-end catering service.
There’s a big party happening at the mayor’s villa this evening. Be there by six- Mary.
I rubbed my forehead, wondering if I could do this gig on top of hacking into the school portal to steal examination papers. But it’ll be worth it, my mind said, always eager on the prospect of earning a few extra bucks.
I’ll be there, I texted back, sipping on the last of my chocolate milk.
The group of kids sitting around the table didn’t even turn their heads toward me as I got to my feet with the tray of food wrappers and an empty carton. They carried on talking between themselves, taking as much notice of me as one of the dented steel chairs in the cafeteria.
It would be another two hours before I could go to the library to hack into the school’s information portal. There wasn’t anything much to worry about the job as Kensington High’s network had one of the simplest configurations with plenty of insecurities that would allow me to get in easily and take what I wanted.
Over the next few hours, I attended my classes, keeping a low profile as always.
Once the bell rang, I grabbed my backpack and followed the herd of students walking out the door. While most of them headed toward the main exit of the school building, I made my way toward the library.
A warm breeze blew by, lifting away the hood from my face. The long strands of my ebony-black hair waved around my face as my blue eyes squinted against the afternoon sunlight. Even though it was past four P.M., the summer sun was still blazing overhead.
Yanking the hood back on, I hurried inside the two-storied brick building that housed the school’s library. This was the only place that had operational computers. During working hours, they were always taken up by either students or the staff.
At the moment, a few were free. There were students sitting further down the main hallway, their heads buried in their books. I looked around, hoping the computer I usually used was free. It was the only one situated in a blind spot. The installed security cameras would never know who used it to log in on the off chance they would ever investigate the matter.
I walked around the corner and exhaled a long breath. The computer was free.
Dropping my bag under the desk, I sat down. Taking the stolen library card, I logged in. Next, I connected my i-pad to the computer, beginning my work, letting my pre-written code penetrate the school’s network. They rarely upgraded their systems, making my work simpler and faster. I just had to wait until I was inside their portals.
It was only a few minutes before the system opened up for me. Quickly, I began searching for the files Sergei wanted me to steal. They weren’t too difficult to dig up as the teachers used noticeable tags that had the subject name and date of exam in the file name.
My gaze took in the area where I sat. No new person had entered the library and the ones sitting there were still in their places, their attention solely on the books or laptops before them. Being ignored and unacknowledged definitely had its perks in my line of work.
I let the files get downloaded into my i-Pad. It barely took a minute.
A satisfied smile curved my lips as I packed away my things and left Sally’s card on the desk beside the monitor. Someone would find it and hand it back to her. Or totally destroy it to get back at her. Either way, it was no longer my problem.
I checked my watch and my grin evaporated. It was already past five P.M. The venue for tonight’s party was on the far side of town and Mary had asked me to be there by six. Hoisting my bag over my shoulder, I rushed out of the library.
The school corridors were practically empty by now but a few stragglers like me loitered around. Reaching my locker, I took out my waitress uniform and shoved it inside my bag. It would be easier to change in one of the guest bathrooms at the mayor’s mansion than the smelly restrooms of the school.
Armed with everything I’d need for my second job of the day, I hurried out of the building, deciding to buy myself a cheeseburger on the way to work. I’d definitely earned one today.
2
Skye
I made my way to the back of the mayor’s mansion where the gates were open to the employees of Mary’s catering service. Several people in the customary white uniforms were already hurrying to and fro from the large truck, carrying large silver vessels of food, crates of wine and other stuff needed for tonight’s party.
A security guard narrowed his gaze at me.
“I’m with them,” I said, flashing my staff ID card at him.
“You look like a kid,” he muttered. “Are you sure you’re here to work?”
I nodded, opening the zip of my backpack and showing him the uniform shoved inside it. “I need to get changed.” After a moment’s hesitation, he moved away, letting me walk through a smaller gate leading inside the building.
I’d been to the mayor’s mansion on several occasions before. Mary took me in to work for her two years ago. Back then, I didn’t know Sergei or any of his people. Mom had just been diagnosed and she’d been too sick to go to work anymore. The waitressing job was the only thing keeping us afloat back then. Even if hacking for Sergei earned me far more, I didn’t want to give up working for Mary. She was the only link to a past that wasn’t stained with theft or any of the shady people I was involved with now.
“Goodness, Skye!” An over-exaggerated sigh had me looking to the side.
A tall woman walked toward me, her gaze measuring me from head to foot. The white shirt she wore was at least a size smaller, stretching tightly over her breasts, the buttons leaving gaps at the front, giving a glimpse into the neon-pink bra she wore underneath. Her black skirt was just long enough to cover her ass. Copious makeup accentuated her pretty features but her crimson painted lips were turned down in a frown.
“Hi, Celine,” I said.
“You look like an intern for the grim reaper. What’s with you and these ugly black hoodies?” Marching forward, she pulled the hood away from my face.
“Hey!” I snapped, trying to cover my head.
“Why are you hiding from me?” she demanded, leaning down to look closely at me. “You won’t have that covering your stupid face while you work.”
She grinned as I scowled.
Celine was a few years older than me and was studying in the local community college. Apart from waitressing, she worked as a “hostess” too. She was the one who tattled about my hacking hobby to one of her clients. Her little gossip got strange, suspicious people hound
ing me until I ended up agreeing to work for Sergei.
I felt gratitude and hatred toward Celine in equal measure.
“You’re not that awful looking,” she said, moving away strands of my hair from my face. “A little makeup would really fix you up. You know, Betty is looking for younger recruits.”
“No,” I said, tightening my fists in the pockets of my jacket.
“Oh, come on. We both know you need the cash.”
“Leave me alone,” I hissed, turning away from Celine. Her mocking grin was aggravating my urge to punch her face. While she had no qualms over sleeping with strangers for thick wads of cash, it was one line into the dark I didn’t want to cross. Not yet anyway…
Walking inside the staff restroom, I looked for an empty cubicle. They were all unoccupied. Selecting one in the furthest corner, I headed in and began stripping off my hoodie, shirt, and jeans. My waitress uniform was similar to Celine’s, a neat white shirt paired with a black pencil skirt. The only difference was that mine fit properly and didn’t scream high-end hooker.
Shoving my regular clothes into my bag, I came out of the cubicle and went to stand in front of the mirror covering an entire wall. Under the bright lights, my skin looked awfully pale. The strands of dark hair framing my face accentuated that paper-white complexion of mine. The depths of my blue eyes reflected the desperation I felt inside.
Over the past two years, my body had grown curvier. The lanky teen with long, thin arms was gone. My shirt was snug over my ample breasts, accentuating my lean, flat stomach. The black skirt showed off the flare of my hips. Suddenly, I could see what made Celine suggest I joined her profession. There was no way to hide my feminine figure other than dressing in baggy jeans and oversized hoodies.
My fingers curled tightly over the straps of my backpack. I already missed the clothes I’d just shed. They not only hid my face but also my body. They were my armor. Without them, I felt exposed and vulnerable.
Stop overthinking, I told myself, proceeding to comb out my hair. Once the tangles were brushed out, I twisted the strands up in a thick knot behind my head, securing it with a clutch clip. The effect was instant. My reflection looked neat and prim. A bland smile came upon my lips. Now, I was ready to serve the guests who would be arriving soon.