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...
When Margherita woke up, a ferocious game of beach volleyball was unfolding: Giuliano and Sam against Luca and Lorenzo. Gemma was reading her book and Graziana sunned herself.
Margherita scrambled for her beach bag and put on sunglasses, so that she could ogle at the players discretely while she re-applied sunscreen. Chiara was pretending to read a novel beside her.
Marghe asked, "Are you ogling?"
"You bet." Chiara had not turned a page in fifteen minutes.
They were all fit, but Giuliano's physique was impressive. Two tattoos marked his chest, right under the pecs: two black, bleeding cuts. A black tattoo in the shape of flowers and thorns circled around his bicep, and some small writing followed the line of his inguinal fold, disappearing into his trunks; Chiara was dying to know what it said.
Margherita's gaze was immediately drawn to Re, tall and strong, lean, his muscles toned and defined but not bulging like Giuliano's.
Giuliano's muscles were impressive, his biceps bulky, abs sculpted. He definitely lifted weighs. Sam was toned and slender, his olive skin getting darker. Lorenzo was not muscular at all, but overall graceful, his long limbs merciless against the ball.
All four of them were excellent players, but Luca was a beast. He'd been in top shape after the morning with Margherita and conquering some of his terror of water. Hope was an intoxicating drug.
However, when Re noticed Margherita lathering on sunscreen, he took a ball to the face. Lorenzo, who'd tossed the ball to him because it was Luca's turn to serve, laughed. "Earth to Re: you with us?"
Luca ignored him and called to the girls. "Why don't you play, too? Two per side?"
Chiara jumped up, ready for the challenge. Gemma didn't even hear, absorbed in her reading. Graziana waved Re away.
Margherita said, "Let me get my scrunchy." She rummaged in her beach bag with no luck.
"Pescatore, here!" Lorenzo took the scrunchy he'd been wearing around his wrist since the previous night and explained to Luca, "She left it on the beach, last night."
"Last night?" Luca asked, taken aback.
"Yea, I couldn't sleep and she randomly strolled by. We had quite the heart to heart."
Pain marred Luca's features. "Lollo..."
"Huh?
"Are you two...?"
"What?"
"No, never mind." Re found he'd rather not know.
Lorenzo knew exactly what Luca had meant, but he'd feigned ignorance because he didn't want to admit that nothing had happened.
Margherita walked up to them and seized the scrunchy. "Thank you!"
The game resumed but Luca was distracted. A heart to heart? Why hadn't Margherita mentioned it? Maybe it had been irrelevant. However, she had talked about a connection with Lorenzo, a connection that—unlike theirs, apparently—was a good thing.
"Re, you alright?" Lorenzo asked. The ball had fallen right at Luca's feet.
"Just hot."
Graziana beamed. "Agreed, let's go for a dip!"
They all went, except for Luca. Margherita watched him walk back inside the house in a daze, then joined the rest of the gang in the water.
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