Luca Romano

Grandma, still seated in the car outside the school, had seen everything. A proud smile spread across her lips as Isabella stood her ground. She leaned back and told the driver, “Head home.”

Inside the classroom, Isabella pushed the door open. The air shifted immediately—cold eyes, sharp whispers, and judgmental stares all met her. She ignored them, walking with steady steps until the teacher gestured for her to stand at the front.

“Introduce yourself to the class,” the teacher instructed.

Isabella lifted her chin. “My name is Isabella Sinclair.”

Several students glanced at one another. The Sinclair name was heavy, and they knew it.

“I am the rightful heir to the Sinclair empire and everything that belongs to my late father,” she continued, her voice clear and confident. Gasps echoed through the room.

She let the silence linger before finishing with a smirk. “Whether you like me or not, it doesn’t matter to me.”

From the doorway, Sophia had been watching the whole thing. Her eyes burned with hatred, but she said nothing as she finally walked inside and sat down, her presence dripping with malice.

After classes, during break, Isabella headed toward the cafeteria. She slowed when she noticed a crowd gathering near the schoolyard. Curious, she walked closer and froze—students and even teachers stood idly by while a boy was beaten mercilessly.

Luca Romano, tall and cruel, was the one throwing punches. The victim was curled on the ground, bloodied and too weak to fight back.

Something in Isabella snapped. She pushed her way through the crowd. “Stop it!” she shouted.

Luca turned, but before he could react, she shoved him away with surprising force. He stumbled, nearly hitting his head against the wall, before spinning around in shock. His expression twisted into rage.

“You—” he snarled and raised his hand to strike her.

Isabella caught his wrist midair. Her eyes narrowed as she shoved him even harder, sending him crashing onto the ground. Gasps filled the crowd.

She bent down to the battered boy. “Are you okay?” she asked softly.

He nodded weakly, but Isabella could see through the lie. His body was trembling, bruises covering his face and arms. He wasn’t okay at all.

Whispers erupted around them.

“She just pushed Luca Romano!”

“Does she have a death wish?”

“This is bad—really bad…”

Luca climbed to his feet, clutching his pride more than his pain. His voice was low and dangerous. “Who the hell are you?”

Isabella stood tall. “Who I am is none of your business. But this—” she gestured to the boy’s injuries, “—this is not how you treat people, no matter who you are.”

He stalked closer, sneering. “And you think I give a damn?”

Isabella glanced at a nearby student. “Help me hold him up. Get him to the health center.”

Then she turned back to Luca. Her glare sharpened. “I think you should care, pig.”

Luca’s eyes darkened. He raised his hand again, but Isabella was faster. She swung her fist, landing a sharp punch to his face. His nose burst open, blood pouring down as he staggered back in shock.

The crowd erupted in gasps and muffled screams.

Sophia, who had rushed forward the moment she saw the scene unfold, shrieked. She ran to Luca’s side, eyes wide in disbelief. “Don’t you dare lay a finger on my man!” she screamed at Isabella.

Isabella smirked, tilting her head. “So this thing is your man?” She gave Luca a look of disgust. “Perfect fit. You suit each other.”

Turning away, she wrapped her arm around the injured boy, guiding him carefully toward the school health center. He leaned on her for support, his voice a shaky whisper.

“You shouldn’t have helped me,” he muttered. “Luca is dangerous… and his older brother—he’s even worse. You might’ve just gotten yourself into serious trouble.”

Isabella’s jaw tightened, but her eyes burned with defiance. Trouble or not, she had no intention of backing down.

At the health center, Isabella guided the boy inside. The smell of antiseptic filled the air, sharp and clean. Two nurses rushed forward the moment they saw him. His face was swollen, his lip split, and his shirt stained with blood.

“He needs care immediately,” Isabella said firmly, her tone leaving no room for delay.

The nurses nodded and helped the boy onto a bed. Isabella lingered for a moment, watching to make sure he was in safe hands. When she finally turned to leave, her steps were steady, her expression unreadable—but inside, her anger still burned.

Meanwhile, outside the health center, Luca and Sophia had already stormed back toward his classroom. Luca’s nose was still bleeding slightly, his jaw clenched in humiliation. He wiped the blood with his sleeve, every step fueled by rage.

As they entered the classroom, Luca slammed his fist against a desk. “Who the hell was that girl? Do you know her?” he demanded, his voice low but dangerous.

Sophia hesitated, then lifted her chin with a mix of pride and venom. “That’s my cousin. The one I told you about.”

Luca froze. “So… she’s the one who returned a few days ago?”

Sophia nodded. Her grip tightened on his arm as she leaned closer, her voice trembling just a little. “Yes. That’s her. Isabella Sinclair.”

Her eyes flickered with something between fear and jealousy as she pressed herself against him. “Babe, you have to fight for me. She looks so terrifying. I don’t want her in this school.”

Luca’s dark eyes softened only slightly at her plea. He reached out, patting her head with forced calmness. “Don’t worry, babe. I’ll handle her.”

That afternoon, after school ended, Luca went home. The Romano mansion was filled with quiet tension, its walls heavy with wealth and power.

The moment Luca stepped inside, his older brother Alessandro noticed him. His sharp eyes immediately landed on the dried blood around Luca’s nose.

“What the hell happened to you?” Alessandro asked, walking forward.

Luca scowled, his pride still on his neck. “I was… ambushed.” He hesitated, then muttered, “By a girl.”

Alessandro raised a brow. “A girl?”

Luca’s jaw tightened. “Yes. She punched me. Her name’s Isabella… Isabella Sinclair.”

At that, Alessandro froze. Then, slowly, his lips curled into a grin. A laugh burst out of him, deep and mocking, echoing through the grand hall.

Luca’s brows furrowed. “What’s so funny?”

Alessandro smirked, eyes gleaming with amusement and something darker. “You said her name is Isabella Sinclair?”

“Yes,” Luca replied through gritted teeth.

“She’s the long-lost daughter of the Sinclairs,” Alessandro said, his laughter dying down into a smirk.

The words sent a ripple of silence between them.

Luca stared. “You know her?”

Alessandro nodded slowly, his gaze sharp as if recalling old memories. But instead of explaining, he waved a hand. “Go treat yourself, little brother. I’ll handle it from here.”