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 infuriatingly entitled boys.
Yet, privi...
That night, Margherita walked into her apartment around eight, dragging feet that weighed a ton each. "I'm home!"
Her parents, discussing the budget, didn't hear her. Apparently, the conveyor system at the dry cleaner had broken down and repairs would cost hundreds of euros. Dad argued they should borrow the money to keep the shop's operations smooth. Mom countered that loans would only cost them more and that they should save for a few months and deal with moving clothes around the shop by hand. Margherita's little brother, Alessandro, was playing video games on his phone on the couch.
"Hi."
The parents turned. "Oh, honey, hi. Good day?" Dad said.
Mom asked, "What's wrong?"
"Just tired. I swam a lot." It wasn't a lie, just a partial omission.
Mom grimaced. "Do you think you could pick up a couple shifts at the dry cleaner till the conveyor belt is fixed?"
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Meanwhile, the P2 celebrated the reunion with Ludovica at a prestigious Michelin-star restaurant. She shared her adventures in L.A., absorbing how her childhood friends had changed during her year away. Sam and Giuliano were the same, just older. Sam had grown into a ridiculously handsome man. His unequivocal charm was a magic combination of keenness, humor, and confidence.
Giuliano had bulked up even more. The backbone of the P2, he still didn't talk much but listened intently to his friends. Ludo had always felt that Giuliano was the safety net of their little group, quietly making sure that everyone was okay.
Lorenzo was taller and even more attractive than she'd remembered. However, he still looked at her adoringly, as if Ludovica was the Virgin Mary (though definitely not a virgin, as Lorenzo knew firsthand). The pedestal he'd put her on had felt amazing at thirteen, annoying when things between them had gotten beyond a friendship, and unbearable now that they were supposed to be adults—or close enough. She didn't want to be a mother to her partner.
However, Luca had changed the most. The leader of the P2 had been a black hole of coalescing anger—and with good reason—unapproachable and mercurial.
When Ludo had left, he'd been verging on scary; what she had perceived as grief in their early teens had turned into an icy aloofness that even Lorenzo hadn't been able to get through.
He'd barely said a word since the beginning of dinner, but his expression was not the usual spiteful resentment he'd seemed to have developed toward life. He'd been listening to his friends distractedly, occasionally smiling to himself.
"Luca, how have you been?" She asked. "Aren't you lonely at the mansion without your sister?"
Sam leaned toward Ludo to conspire. "Oh, but now there's this wild girl who's been keeping him busy. Her name's Margherita Pescatore."
