Contemporary Milan, Italy.
In the dazzling world of Vincitore Academy, Margherita, a half-Korean firebrand from humble beginnings, ignites a clash of wills with the P2, the city's elite quartet of dazzling and entitled boys.
Yet, privilege holds no...
Francesca whirled into the mansion like a hurricane, giving directives, hugging staff, and asking them to hang out at the same time. Everyone seemed very fond of her, regardless.
Like Francesca had promised, Re was not home.
Margherita was a ball of angst. She'd never lied to Re, her confusion blatant from the very beginning, but the bitterness of their fallout poisoned her with regret. Her attraction to Re was unhealthy, especially in the light of his supposed feelings and his mercurial behavior—not to mention his violent streak and oppressive clout.
Yet, as her eyes roamed the lavishly furnished, countless rooms of the mansion, Re's absence taunted her, like a precipice she could not stop staring into. Memories overwhelmed her: sleeping over—twice—and the one time Re had kissed her in his bedroom, slowly, so achingly slowly she thought she'd melt.
"Damn him!" Francesca startled her. "His voicemail is full. I'll summon the P2 for a strategy meeting."
Margherita settled on a plush couch among golden walls, lacy doilies, porcelain, and ornate stuccos, while Francesca negotiated over the phone, pacing the carpeted hardwood floor. If Margherita had been rich, she never would have lived in such a grand yet empty place.
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Giuliano was ecstatic at the invitation, Sam was indifferent but looking forward to the drama. Lorenzo was the only recalcitrant one.
Margherita couldn't hear Lollo's side of the conversation over the phone, but Francesca answered, "Don't be a baby! Margherita will make up her own mind! Now, unless you want to be expelled with her, get your ass over here; it's time for an intervention—if we find him."
"Expelled?" She asked, bewildered.
"Oh, you didn't know?" Francesca brought her up to speed; Margherita's anger pooled inside of her like acid. Not because she would be expelled—she could go back to her public high school—but because Re meant to hurt her, and Lorenzo. Everything she'd heard about him was true. What the hell was she doing here?
The P2 arrived shortly after. At dinner, Lorenzo sat by Margherita studying her sideways. "You left in a hurry."
"From where?" Sam asked.
"My place," Lorenzo answered, causing Margherita to flush violently.
"He was sleeping!" Margherita blurted.
Sam shrugged. "He must have been exhausted. Good job, Pescatore."
Francesca rolled her eyes. "Grow up, children."
Lorenzo whispered to Margherita, "I'm sorry that I fell asleep. Are you upset?" She shook her head. "I was disappointed to wake up without you."
Giuliano cleared his throat. "So, I guess it's official? Are you two an item?"
