Chapter 2

Brilliant.

That was the word people had used to describe me for as long as I could remember.

Bianca was prettier, sweeter, and far better at making people want to protect her.

All I had was my mind.

I could read a book once and remember every page. I saw patterns other people missed and solved problems before they finished explaining them.

But my parents had never loved me more for it.

When Dante showed the same intelligence, Father called him a born strategist—the perfect heir to the Bellini empire.

When I did it, Mother would sigh.

“A Bellini woman should be clever enough to survive, Valentina. Not so clever that every man in the room feels challenged.”

Bianca never challenged anyone.

She asked Dante to explain things she already understood. She let Father make her decisions. She looked at Luca as though every word he spoke was worth remembering.

I was brilliant, so I could take care of myself.

Bianca was fragile, so she got the better bedroom, the extra guards, and the first claim on everyone’s affection.

The quality that made Dante worthy of inheriting the family had become the reason I needed less from it.

Then I met Luca during my sophomore year of high school.

He was a year older and had not met Bianca yet.

When I told him what my family thought of me, he frowned.

“Since when is being brilliant a flaw?”

He had taken my hand across the library table.

“Don’t make yourself smaller just because other people are intimidated by you, Val.”

He was the first person who made me believe my mind wasn’t something I needed to apologize for.

Then he met Bianca.

Months later, I watched him laugh as she pretended not to understand a simple card game.

“Your sister has no idea what she’s doing,” he told me afterward, still smiling. “It’s kind of adorable.”

I had ignored the uneasiness in my chest.

I loved him because he was the first person who told me being brilliant wasn’t a sin.

Now even he was using it as an excuse to take something from me.

“You’ll succeed anywhere,” he had said.

The salon fell silent.

Dante tapped one finger against the arm of his chair.

“Well?” he asked. “Say something, Valentina. No one is trying to hurt you. We’re protecting the family.”

Protecting the family. As if I had never been part of it.

I lowered my eyes before they could see them burn.

“Fine.”

I would give them exactly what they wanted. I would stay far away from Bianca, and from the rest of the Bellini family.

What none of them knew was that I had already accepted MIT’s offer.

In three days, I would be gone.

Relief passed through the room.

Mother immediately reached behind the sofa and brought out several gift bags.

“Don’t look so miserable,” she said. “We got you something too.”

Too.

The gifts were placed in front of me as if they settled the matter.

But I had already seen what they gave Bianca: a Maserati, a Cartier watch, a diamond bracelet, and a rare antique violin.

Mine came in four plain bags, each one feeling more like an afterthought than a present.

Father gave me a fountain pen from his desk.

Dante handed me a business book he had already read, his notes still written in the margins.

Mother offered me a canvas tote left over from one of her charity galas.

Luca’s gift was a dress Bianca had worn once. The tag was gone, but I recognized it from her Instagram.

Four gifts chosen without a single thought about me.

“There,” Mother said brightly. “Bianca isn’t the only one being celebrated. ”

I almost laughed.

They had taken Stanford from me and handed me Bianca’s discarded dress in exchange.

I gathered the bags and stood.

“Valentina,” Mother called as I reached the door.

I turned.

She hesitated before asking, “Would you like to stay for dinner?”

Stay.

I had been born in this house.

Now I needed permission to eat at its table.

“No, thank you.”

Outside the estate, I dropped all four gifts into the waste bin beside the gatehouse and called another cab.

Halfway back to Queens, my phone buzzed.

Bianca had posted a new Instagram Story.

Finally, a peaceful family dinner.

The photo showed Mother, Father, Dante, and Luca seated beneath the crystal chandelier in the formal dining room.

The table was covered with oysters, shrimp scampi, crab risotto, and lobster fra diavolo.

Every dish contained shellfish. I was severely allergic to shellfish.

If I had stayed, the only thing I could have safely eaten was the bread—and even that would have depended on which knife had touched it.

When I returned to the apartment, I pulled my suitcase from the closet.

The four LEGO figures sat around my textbooks, pretending to be the family who had never joined me here.

I turned each of them toward the wall.

Then I noticed the postcard on my desk.

Luca had given it to me before he met Bianca. The front showed Stanford’s Hoover Tower glowing beneath the California sun.

On the back, in his slanted handwriting, were seven words:

I’ll be waiting for you at Stanford, Val.

I stared at them for a long time.

Then I tore the postcard in half.