LOGIN~CAMILLA~The moment the cab stops, I shove money into the hands of the driver.“Keep the change!” I tell him.“Miss, you gave me too much,” he says.“I don't have time! Just keep the change,” I say and jump out before he can argue.Then I start running again.I run across the campus with my bag bouncing against my side. My Crocs slap against the pavement.Students turn to look at me, but I don't care.Someone says something, but I don't even bother to know what is being said.A professor walks past me, and I nearly crash into him.“Sorry, professor!” I yell, and keep running.My lungs are burning. My heart is pounding.My hair is probably worse than it was in the cab.But then I reach the building, and I race up the stairs.“Please don't let him start,” I mutter as I keep racing the stairs.Finally, I reach the classroom door, and when my hand closes around the handle, I stop, taking breaths to calm myself down.I straighten my top, fix my hair as much as pos
~CAMILLA~“Shit! Shit! Shit!”I mutter as I sprint down the street so fast that I'm beginning to wonder if my legs are actually attached to my body or if they're simply moving on their own.My bag is hanging halfway off my shoulder, and I'm sure one of my books must be sticking out of it.My hair is a complete disaster. It's flying happily in the air. And I'm still not sure if I actually closed my room door. I might have left it open like before…because I was rushing out. But now, I don't have the time to go back to check properly.I have a fucking school test, and it starts in fifteen minutes.“Oh God! I might actually miss the test, and Esmeralda is definitely going to kill me if I do that,” I say to myself.Okay, maybe that's dramatic.But at this exact moment, it feels appropriate.Okay, I fucking need a car right now!I shouldn't have refused when dad wanted to get me a car.If I had a car, I would have driven recklessly to school to beat the time and no
~LUCAS~Oh shit! Not again!What the hell??I stare at her because no, this has to be some kind of joke.I blink twice, and she's still standing there with that same face, same eyes, same lips, same nose, same beautiful features that have already managed to completely mess with my head twice.My heart actually skips a beat.I look at her again, hoping that somehow my eyes are playing tricks on me.They aren't.She looks EXACTLY like Fiorella and Marcella.For a few seconds, I genuinely forget how to breathe.The woman standing in front of me notices my expression, but she doesn't seem to understand why I'm staring at her like I've just seen a ghost.And honestly? I don't understand it either.What are the odds?What are the chances of meeting one woman who looks exactly like Marcella, then falling for another woman who looks exactly like Marcella, and then, after flying all the way from Scotland to Italy, running into a third woman who looks exactly like both
~LUCAS~Three hours later, I arrive in Milan, Italy.The moment I step out of the airport, I stop for a second and simply look around.I'm actually here in Italy.The thought should excite and disturb me at the same time.It does, in a way.But there's an emptiness sitting right in the middle of that excitement.I breathe in deeply, adjusting the strap of my bag over my shoulder as I look around at the unfamiliar surroundings.Milan is beautiful.Not beautiful in the same way Scotland is beautiful.Scotland has this wild, almost haunting kind of beauty. The cold air, the old buildings, the green landscapes, the dramatic skies.Milan feels different. It feels elegant and alive.There is something sophisticated about the city, even from the little I can see around me.The architecture catches my attention almost immediately. The streets are busy without feeling chaotic, and everywhere I look, there are beautiful buildings standing beside modern ones as though the
~LUCAS~I barely sleep.Actually, calling what I did last night “sleep” would be generous.I spend most of the night lying on my back, staring at the ceiling while Fiorella's words replay over and over again inside my head.‘Goodbye, Lucas.’I don't know why those two words bother me so much.Maybe it's because of the way she said them.There was something final about them. Something that made a cold feeling settle somewhere deep inside my chest.Every time I close my eyes, I see her sitting on the edge of that bed with her phone in her hand.I see the way her expression changed.I hear the slight crack in her voice when she told me she couldn't afford another trip with me.And most of all, I remember the way she stopped herself when she almost said something about a Mafia lord.There is a secret buried inside all of this….I'm sure of it.But no matter how many times I turn it over in my head, I can't figure out what it is.Eventually, I give up trying to sleep
~LUCAS~I stare at her.For several seconds, neither of us says anything.The room is silent except for the faint hum of the air conditioner and the sound of my own breathing.Fiorella is sitting on the edge of the bed, her phone clenched tightly in her hand.She looks furious. But underneath the anger, there is something else….. real fear.I've seen Fiorella angry.I've seen her frustrated, irritated, arrogant, stubborn, sarcastic, and completely impossible.But I've never seen her look like this.Her eyes are fixed on the screen, and there's a strange tension in her face that makes me sit up straighter.“Why don't you want to go to Italy?” I ask her, but she doesn't answer.“Fiorella?” I try again.She simply shakes her head.“I'm never going to Italy, Lucas,” she says with a firm and final voice.“Fiorella.....”She sighs heavily and throws her phone onto the mattress beside her.“I said I'm not going. Leave me the fuck alone, Lucas.”“That doesn't answer my question. Why are you no
~ELENA~The whispers multiply until it feels like the entire hallway has turned into a low hum of excitement.“Who is he? Does anyone know?”“They say he is doing his masters.”“I heard he's transferred.”“Transferred? He looks like he walked straight out of a magazine.”“D
~NICO~The moment my fist connects with Alessandro’s jaw, the sound is louder than I expect. A sharp crack that silences even the shrieks around us.He stumbles, spits blood, and collapses onto the floor.The crowd roars….half in shock, half in awe. Phones are out, cap
Alessandro stands in the middle of his father’s office, tall and impassive, hands in his pockets, face unreadable. His black shirt clings to his frame, sleeves rolled to the elbows, veins prominent, tattoos peeking at his wrists. The room is thick with tension.Behind the heavy mahogany desk sits
~ELENA~Nico's lips graze my cheeks…almost a kiss.Almost.And then the gym door swings open.“Damn!” We both exclaim.Riccardo walks in, towel over his shoulders. He pauses, eyes flicking between our too-close bodies.“Everything okay here??” He asks, voice neutral, but b







