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They thought I could only attend community college. They even told me to rent an apartment in Washington, D.C. and take care of Ivy like a servant. But they did not know the truth. I was the prep school valedictorian. My SAT score was nearly perfect. Cambridge had given me a full scholarship. The next day, I tore every letter Luca had ever written me, blocked them all, and flew to England. Three years later, I returned to Washington, D.C. as an academic representative. They cried and begged me to come home. I glanced at them once. "Who are they?" "I do not know them. Just people asking for directions." The summer after I graduated from prep school was supposed to be the Moretti family's annual getaway to the Amalfi Coast. Only the people welcomed into the family's private seaside villa were considered truly accepted by the Morettis. My parents had promised I could come this year. I had packed my suitcase a month in advance. Swimsuits. Sunscreen. My camera. And the detailed itinerary I had spent days putting together for everyone. The night before we were supposed to leave, my younger sister, Ivy, suddenly announced that she wanted to invite Luca Santini. My childhood fiancé. He had grown up beside me, and he was also the heir to the Santini family. Years ago, both old-family circles had quietly agreed that one day we would marry. Now that I had graduated from prep school, our engagement was supposed to be formally presented before both family councils. My father, Lord Moretti, frowned as he looked over the room assignments for the villa. "There aren't enough bedrooms." My stomach tightened. Before I could say anything, my mother reached across the table and took my passport. "Serena, you're staying home." "Ivy and Luca just worked things out. She needs this trip." My older brother, Marco, the Moretti heir, picked up my suitcase and dropped it at Ivy's feet. "She's already packed everything. Just use her stuff." I turned to Luca. He didn't say a single word for me. I
