Season 2

"Is my soul too dark for you..."

After the horrifying events of the Winter Ball, nothing will ever be the same again.

Not only are there new enemies in Silverside, but new obstacles and hurdles mercilessly stand in the way of Jolien and Malio.

The question that arises is this: who can you actually trust?

****

M A L I O

I walked down the dark corridor of our basement. Hundreds of thousands of times already - nevertheless it was different today and that wasn't because of the steaming coffee cup, which I was clutching with both hands.

The heat that came through the white porcelain at least warmed me superficially. Even if it never reached the cold inside me.

As always in the winter months, it was so damn cold down here. But what did I expect? After all, it was an old cellar. The crumbling stone walls literally cried out to absorb the biting cold that prevailed outside and to release it into the surrounding rooms.

I reached the door - reached my goal. I opened it without hesitation, feeling no discomfort, guilt, or compassion at the thought of what was about to happen.

"I'll relieve you," I said, reluctantly taking my hand off the warm china to pull the heavy metal door shut behind me. Jamie looked at me in surprise. "Now?" he asked, glancing at his expensive gold watch. One of many I knew.

Jamie had a soft spot for expensive watches. Really expensive watches. Many were worth a small car. Watches that Jamie extorted from the protection money alone.

"Yes and now go away, Jamie!" I fixed him menacingly. His dark eyes were on me for a few seconds until he finally got up from the creaking chair.

Most likely, at that moment, he realized that not only was it the wrong time for a discussion, but that he was dealing with the wrong person to do so. Because without saying another word, he stroked his blond hair that was stuck to his forehead due to blood and sweat and finally shrugged his broad shoulders.

His beefy frame squeezed past me seconds later, revealing the barely conscious pile of misery.

I was almost impressed by his stamina.

I waited for Jamie to pull the door closed from the outside before swiveling the chair around to sit, backrest first, in front of him. "Now let's talk my friend. Just you and me!" He flinched at my threatening tone, which I only caught out of the corner of my eye, as I leaned sideways to set the coffee cup down on the small table right next to me.

"Malio, you're making a mistake..." I gave a cold laugh and crossed my arms over the back of the old wooden chair. I lingered like that for a few seconds, examining the face of that ugly bastard before I said angrily, "One Mistake? The only one making a mistake here is you if you don't tell me who gave the order to kill the girl!" "I don't know." "Bullshit!" I could feel the vein in my neck pulsing.

"P-please..." he begged, crying. I hadn't even bothered to remember his fucking name. Why should I? His fate was sealed. "You'll talk!" I said promisingly.

The young man, who must have been only a few years older than me, trembled. His whole body was shaking so badly that for a brief moment I thought he was going to convulse, sort of have a fit, but it was just fear. "Please Malio!"

His fingers, already blue from the cold, gripped the back of the chair. He didn't have any other choice - since thick ropes were wrapped around his arms and legs. The only freedom he had was to move his fingers, but unfortunately they were the first to freeze in the freezing cold.

He had followed my gaze and I could literally see how the following words cost him strength. "Please Malio - I'm so cold.." "Oh, you're cold?" I cut him off harshly and while a barely noticeable smile stole onto my lips, I reached for my coffee bag. Which was still steaming.

My right hand touched the various sized knives, pliers and clamps that were spread out on the table and were partially smeared with blood. So Jamie was already seen busy.

"No, please..", but before he could finish his sentence, I dumped the steaming liquid in his battered and swollen face.

Familiar screams filled the walls. Holding against the heavy rock. Full of pain and suffering.

And it was just the beginning. I wouldn't stop until I knew his name. The name of that miserable freak.

After a few seconds, the pain drained from his eyes and something else clouded over the bloodshot brown eyes.

Certainty.

The certainty of never leaving this room alive, no matter what he told me.

J O L I E N

I had thought about tonight many times before. Played it over and over in my mind.

In none of these scenarios was I alone, in none of them was I at home - and yet now I was sitting alone in my bed.

Everything had changed radically since the events at the Winter Ball.

11:59 p.m. I adjusted my headphones, not wanting to hear anything that would be playing outside my window in a few seconds.

Three seconds. Two seconds. One second.

Then I saw the colored lights in the sky.

12:00 a.m. New Year New luck.

I opened the little fortune cookie that Silia had given me before I disappeared into my room to spend the evening there alone.

Fortune cookies. A tradition that our mother once introduced. Despite her death, we hadn't stopped there. I stared at the piece of paper I had fumbled out of the cookie.

There was pain that hurt and pain that changed.

A small smile crossed my lips involuntarily.

I was ready for the change because I was tired of crying. If I had learned one thing from life, it was that the darkest and hardest of times led to the brightest of places. They made you stronger.

That's how it was back then - after the death of my mother. And that's how it was today, after Elena's death.

I fought back. Won the battle against my broken inside. Like a phoenix, I was reborn in the flames that once threatened to destroy me.

One thing, after my mind cleared, became very clear to me.

Malio was the worst actor in the world. The act of separation, his whole demeanor, was a joke. I didn't believe a single word he said.

Granted, it had taken a few days, but once the penny finally dropped, the next step seemed inevitable. I had to speak to him again. Needed to know the real reason for this breakup - unfortunately that turned out to be quite difficult.

Malio had namely deleted my number and also blocked it. Also, he didn't answer any of my calls. His stubbornness and the resulting anger wiped the last bit of emptiness out of me.

And the Academy wasn't any help either. After the tragic events of the Winter Ball, she had let us go on vacation earlier - which meant that I was denied this opportunity for the time being. I accepted it. I had no other choice.

But the new year also heralded the start of school. I would finally be able to confront Malio. Find out the real reason behind this bad theatrical performance, because I would not be fobbed off with his half-truths again.

I pulled the headphones out of my ears.

At first I expected the firecrackers and rockets to remind me of the night she died, but they didn't. The popping, whistling and crackling seemed rather liberating. I clumsily got out of bed and walked the few steps to the window.

The night sky over Silverside turned bright colors. Blue, green, red. I stared at the shapes and patterns stretching across the dark horizon.

For the first time in years, I understood what my mother was saying. She had always loved New Year's Eve.

“With the fireworks, we not only drive away the evil spirits, my child. No, it's much more like a cleaning. It's the end of something old and the beginning of something new. If you want, Jolien, you can also shoot your worries, your anger and your sadness into the sky with rockets!" she used to say - and she was right!

It was the beginning of something new.

I grabbed my jacket. Maybe it was time to move on. to live on.

I rushed to my father, Silia and Amelie who were standing in front of the door watching the fireworks together. Silia put a glass of sparkling wine in my hand and briefly hugged me.

While my dad yelled "Happy New Year!" loudly, pulling Silia, Amelie and me into a group hug and somehow managing to wave at the neighbors, my thoughts involuntarily wandered to Malio.

Was he perhaps thinking of me at that moment?

I eagerly awaited the coming Monday.

Which was definitely something new – I actually hated Mondays, but the prospect of seeing and even confronting Malio actually got me pulling into the Academy's nearly empty parking lot at 7:30 am.

Of course, the parking lot where Malio parked his Lamborghini was still free. For a brief moment

I toyed with the idea of parking my Range Rover on it. Just to provoke him - I changed my mind at the last second. In the current situation, it seemed tactically unwise to irritate Malio even more - after all, I wanted answers from him.

But even when Ivan, as always at the last minute, stormed into the classroom and sat down a few seats away, breathing heavily, there was no sign of Malio anywhere.

So, without any greeting, I approached him directly. "Where's Malio?" Ivan didn't say anything for a moment, as if considering whether it would be wise to tell me the truth, so I added even more impatiently, "The truth, Ivan!" "He left the Academy." He replied and turned to Chantal, who just sat down next to him and started whispering something in his ear.

The closeness they built seemed all too familiar, but I swallowed my snarky comment and instead asked in disbelief, "He what?" "What did you expect, little one?" Chantal leaned past Ivan to look me straight in the eyes.

All I had to do was look at her, and the impulse to smack her stupid face, which had an even stupider smile on it, grew immeasurably.

"Chantal!", Ivan admonished softly. "What?” she shrugged apologetically. "Chantal, shut up!", the lightness in Ivan's voice had given way to a menacing undertone.

Ignoring him, I turned to Chantal as she seemed to be the only person willing to tell me anything useful.

Even if their real intentions were actually to show me off with my ignorance - but at that moment I didn't care.

"What do you mean?" I faded out Ivan's menacing look, which now alternately flew back and forth between Chantal and me. "You're really asking that? He works for his father now." She waited patiently for my reaction and after she had obviously savored it enough, she hissed even more maliciously: "I guess that means checkmate for the lovers." I stared at Chantal in horror because her statement made no sense at all.

Malio left the Academy to work for his crime father?

"What did you just say?" Despite the growing resentment, I turned to her again. Her lips curled into a spiteful smile.

Of course she enjoyed it. Enjoyed seeing me suffer. Enjoyed holding this sorrow in your own hands.

"He works for his father, honey," she repeated, an even meaner grin on her lips. I felt my face slip.

"Chantal!" Ivan glared at her angrily. As if this information was something I apparently shouldn't know. "He's doing--WHAT_?" the conversation took off, obviously didn't fit. "He works for his Vateeer!" Chantal repeated her last words again, this time only with extra triumph.

Those five words were like slaps. Like blows that shook me to the core. That could not be true.

I waited for Chantal to jump up and laugh at me. Telling me it was all a joke and that Malio was just sick.

But when she continued to look at me in amusement, I looked to Ivan for help. "Is that true?" I wanted to hear it out of his mouth. Still, I didn't trust Chantal enough to buy such important information from her. "It's true, Jolien." Ivan confirmed with a sigh – since he probably realized that once the truth was out, denial was useless.

"Oh my god!" "Calm down, Jolien." "Calm down Jolien? Is that all you have to say about that, Ivan? Malio's father is dangerous!" I burst out far too loudly. Ivan laughed softly. "Jolien, Malio is dangerous too – it was clear that one day he would become his father's _right hand man."

“The right hand?", my voice swelled to a hysterical scream, which earned me some punishing looks from the other students. "Girl – calm down!" Chantal replied happily.

But before I could say the last thing to her first, a strange voice cut through the merry chatter that reigned in the classroom. "May I ask for your attention?"

I turned around with a sigh and while I was still swallowing my insults against Chantal, which I had already composed in my mind, my mouth fell open for the second time that morning.

In front of the whiteboard, leaning against the table, stood the blond leader of the La Cruels.

His eyes darted to mine and a small, barely noticeable smile played across his thin lips as our eyes met.

He exuded such authority that it took only seconds for the merry chatter to die down. It almost seemed as if everything around him was dying. The silence was almost overwhelming.

"Fine, that worked out well."

He let his gaze wander around the silent classroom before continuing in a quiet, loud voice: "My name is Enrico La Cruel and I'm your new English teacher from today."

Shit, shit, shit.

I couldn't really be that unlucky, could I?

***

I heard Ivan mumble something next to me that sounded suspiciously like an insult.

"Jolien?" he suddenly whispered. "Mh?" I answered, finding the moment absolutely wrong for a little chat, since I didn't dare take my eyes off Enrico La Cruel, who was still a completely dark one presence in the classroom. "Don't do shit! Pull yourself together and don't stand out." Ivan mumbled.

Do not attract attention? How should you not attract attention when this man's gaze is constantly resting on you.

Enrico La Cruel looked at me penetratingly - and once again I was glad that I always tended to choose a seat in the back rows. I didn't even want to imagine how it would have been if I had sat directly across from him in the front row.

"If you help me to talk to Malio." I said quietly. "That's not possible." Ivan answered and Enrico La Cruel's eyes darted to him.

For a moment, he narrowed his eyes at Ivan, then said in a calm voice, "Can I agree with the conversation in the back row?" "No, sir!" Ivan answered before me. Enrico La Cruel glanced at the piece of paper he had previously placed on the teacher's desk. "Jolie, right? Jolien Chesterfield?" I nodded silently, noticing Ivan's gasp.

"Interesting." Enrico La Cruel grinned and addressed the next words to the entire class: "This is what happens when one of you speaks unsolicited in my class. You're behind, Jolien." My mouth fell open for the third time that morning.

"What?" Enrico La Cruel raised one of his thin blond eyebrows menacingly to look at me defiantly. "Have you anything to say, Miss Chesterfield?"

Oh yes, a lot! How gladly I would have thrown my opinion at him now, but when I heard another warning clearing of my throat from Ivan's corner, I finally shook my head.

"There you go. Come see me after class." I saw the triumphant grin on his lips and knew intuitively that I was in deep trouble.

I thought Professor Shelters was an asshole. But I was sorely wrong about that - he was an angel compared to Enrico La Cruel.

He had actually managed to get the class, which otherwise didn't think much of rules, under control with his little speech. no talking no laughter Nothing. There is dead silence.

When the bell finally rang at the end of the hour, I breathed a sigh of relief.

"Jolien, don't mess with him!" Ivan warned me one last time before pushing past me, followed closely by Chantal, who grinned and waved goodbye while exulting, "Good luck - you're going to need it! "

The classroom was empty within seconds, probably no one wanted to stay longer than necessary in this toxic atmosphere that Enrico La Cruel spread like a skunk.

"I am here. What exactly does my detention look like?" Enrico La Cruel looked up and put the sheet of paper with the seating chart in his pocket.

A blond strand of hair from his man bun had come loose with the movement. He tucked it behind his ear very slowly, never taking his moss-green eyes off me. Finally he said, "I've been invited to an event on Saturday."

Nice for him. I swallowed, fighting the urge to say just that to that obnoxious, grinning face. "What does that have to do with my detention?" I asked instead, as politely as I possibly could. "That's your detention."

I frowned questioningly, "Is this supposed to be a date? I'm just happily reminding you, Professor La Cruel, that I'm your student.” He gave a short laugh, then leaned against the edge of the table to lean his torso toward me. “It's not a date, my dear.” "But?" "You will be a waiter there." Now it was me who laughed out loud. "I'm a sucker at waiters. So no interest! I'll pick up the rubbish from the schoolyard!"

I was already turning to leave when his hand quickly grabbed my arm. "You'll come and wait waiter there if you want to stay at this school!" "It's blackmail!" "Well, after your tryst with Malio, you must be very familiar with such tools!" I gasped as his words hit me like a punch in the stomach.

"I didn't have a tryst. Besides, it's none of your business! Why don't you ask one of your awesome friends if they can wait tables?" I glared at him, knowing that the next sentence would be my downfall, but I said it without hesitation. "Or better yet, swing yours own imaginary ass..." Unfortunately, I didn't get any further because he roughly cut me off: "You cheeky little brat! I can understand what Malio saw in you. It must have been fun feeding you that filthy, cheeky mouth."

He tightened his grip on my arm and then said, in a cold voice that definitely left no doubt as to where he came from and that being a teacher wasn't the main attribute of his life: "You will accompany me, Jolien! Or you will be expelled from school! We might as well go to Headmaster Gibbens now. But I don't think you want that, do you dear?" My wrist hurt, but I didn't think to back down or buckle, so I bravely held his gaze.

"What would your father say to that? All his hard-earned money thrown out the window by a rebellious little brat who thinks she can defy people who are clearly more senior than she ever will be!" In one jerk, he had me ripped off and my upper body hovered just millimeters above the tabletop.

"You're coming with me, do you understand?" "Okay, okay! Then I'll wait wait at this stupid event." I finally gave in, realizing that it was the only way out of this situation.

He let go of me instantly and I immediately straightened up again. My face burned with embarrassment and I tried to fight the rising panic.

"When and where is this stupid event supposed to take place?" "It's possible, Jolien! Do you always have to resort to such means first?" He eyed me for a millisecond with that cocky grin I'd seen from Malio.

"This Saturday, at 8:00 p.m." When he made no move to continue, I rolled my eyes in annoyance. At least I had regained my courage. "And where?"

"By the Dakarias." My reaction to that obviously met Enrico La Cruel's expectations exactly. Because when I widened my eyes in horror, he just laughed out loud. "You really don't know what that day is, do you?" I shook my head. Unable to say anything or even think straight.

Sure, I wanted to meet Malio. I even had to meet him - but in my mind that never meant running the risk of meeting his father as well.

"Malio's birthday, dear." His grin turned even more malicious, if that was even possible.

It almost seemed as if he was still hiding an important little thing from me...