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...
Once back in the room, Margherita woke up Chiara and told her everything that had happened.
Chiara hugged her pillow. "So, is it official? Do you have feelings for Tristante?"
"I have very different feelings for the two of them, and honestly, that alone is surreal."
Chiara agreed. "But different how?"
Margherita tried to describe her emotions. "With Re I feel on fire, but also not safe—not like he'd hurt me, but like I might lose control; do things I'd regret later, you know?"
"And with Tristante?"
"With Lorenzo, I feel safe, like I understand him and I can help him. When we hugged, I felt serene, quiet, like everything was right in the world."
Chiara yawned, pleased. "I think you have your answer."
And maybe Margherita did, but she still could not rest.
The sun rose around six, and Margherita got up.
Serendipitously, Re opened his door right when she was walking past and grinned at her. "Perfect! Come in." He dragged her inside his room and Margherita's resolutions, so solid hours before, crumbled to pieces the moment he seized her wrist.
Luca led her to the balcony; the sun was rising over the Red Sea, peaceful, serene, magical. Swaths of orange, gold, and pink tinged a few sparse clouds with a divine glow.
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"Pescatore... " Re's melancholy startled her. "What is it that you feel for Lorenzo that you don't feel for me?"
Margherita swallowed, glad he hadn't asked the other way around. "I feel...in control."
"And that's a good thing?"
Throughout Re's life, control had been imperative: the image of himself he projected was of prime importance to the president and the company, way more than Luca himself. As a consequence, Luca had a clear picture of his public image, whereas his true self was vague and stunted.
Pescatore was the first person who'd been able to tell the difference between the two—the bratty bad boy and the Vincitore heir—calling Luca's attention to his neglected soul. She'd made him understand that he could control his true self as much as his image, but according to his own desires rather than the president's.
Possibly as a consequence, Pescatore teased out his soul and his instincts like no one else. He felt utterly at the mercy of his emotions and desires, and he loved it. The loss of control was inebriating.
Unfortunately, however, Pescatore nodded. Apparently, being in control was a good thing for her. Dawn softened the blow. Maybe that didn't necessarily mean she was in love with Lorenzo.
Re added, "Everyone will be sleeping for hours. Get ready, I have an idea for breakfast. You in?"
Margherita nodded, her chest a bit lighter now that she'd told Luca how she felt, if only a bit. She did enjoy time with him and his hospitality had been impeccable.
