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...
"Not a bad idea. Why don't you ask him to teach you some self-defense?" She snuggled to Marghe. "Get all close and personal and breach the subject of domestic violence?"
"Idiot!" Marghe pushed her away, laughing, though the self-defense idea was brilliant...but did Margherita really want to get close and personal with Re? "Chiara, the topic doesn't warrant your giddiness. Am I infectious?"
Chiara thought she'd never ask. "Finally you've noticed! Guess who has a date with Sergio? He's dumped the girlfriend!"
Finally, after years of slowly circling around each other, Sergio, the bad boy she'd had a crush on for years, had asked her out. Margherita hugged Chiara, jumping around the pizzeria.
Marco rolled his eyes but smiled.
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On Sunday, Marghe worked at her parents' dry cleaner, cleaning and sorting out the orders ready for delivery or pick-up. She'd been aching to text Luca, but everything she wanted to say would have been better said in person. Meanwhile, Luca agonized by his phone, splayed on the canvas of the ring in the game room at the mansion. Women harassed him constantly. Unwanted attention from individuals with ulterior motives was the bane of his existence. He had no idea how to interact with someone like Margherita.
"Maybe I should text her."
Sam was sketching pottery ideas on a pad and said, "Dude, no! You're basically her slave already. Save some dignity."
Giuliano lifted his head from his phone, on which he'd been reading a novel. "Patience, my man."
Lorenzo was writing some music, sitting on a stool at the bar. "One date was all it took for her to get over me. Pescatore has high standards."
Luca conked his head against the canvas. This was torture.
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On Monday, Margherita ran into Mauro on the subway to school. They had an agreement to always choose the last car, but with so many trains at rush hour, they only managed to meet on a train a couple times per week.
"Marghe! How was the weekend?"
Margherita acted cagey, puffing hair off her face. "Uh, fine. Worked. The usual."
