Chapter 3

When the lawsuit was placed in my hands, I was still hesitating.

I had grown up with the four of them.

We had always been close.

And Adrian had taken care of me more than anyone else.

When my parents first died, I refused to let anyone near me.

After several families discussed it, they decided to send me to a trauma rehabilitation facility in Switzerland.

Only eight-year-old Adrian stood in front of the medical staff who came to take me away.

He begged them to give me one more chance.

He ate with me, slept beside me, and never gave up on me, even when I hurt him by accident and left him covered in bruises.

At last, I lowered my guard and agreed to treatment.

During recovery, Leon, Victor, and Matteo often lost patience with how clumsy and broken I was.

Only Adrian remembered what the therapist said:

"The company of those she trusts most may be the medicine that eases the pain."

Again and again, he stayed with me through the most boring, exhausting exercises.

Slowly, I learned to live like a normal person.

If someone didn't know my past, they would never guess I had once nearly lost the ability to live independently because of trauma.

If I filed this lawsuit, it wouldn't just destroy more than twenty years of history between us.

It would destroy Adrian's future.

Maybe even the De Luca family's reputation.

I asked the lawyer for more time.

I wanted to think.

But in the middle of the night, my professor called.

His voice was urgent.

"Isabella, I know you and Nora are close, but how could you hand over the graduation collection you worked so hard on?"

"And why did you give up your chance to study at the Royal Icelandic Design Institute?"

My mind went blank.

"Professor, I didn't give it up..."

He sent me a video from the graduation gala.

In the video, Nora stood onstage as an outstanding graduate.

She was wearing the evening gown I had ordered three months in advance.

In her hands was the jewelry collection I had spent half a year creating.

She held it up proudly for everyone to see.

The auditorium thundered with applause.

The dean announced excitedly:

"Ms. Valenti's graduation collection not only won first place in an international jewelry design competition, it also earned her admission to the Royal Icelandic Design Institute."

"Congratulations, Ms. Valenti."

I immediately logged into the school website.

On the outstanding graduate showcase page, my collection had Nora's name on it.

Then I checked my email.

The admission letter from Iceland also said Nora Valenti.

Only then did I remember the strange looks on the boys' faces before the Europe trip, when I had excitedly told them my work had been recognized and I was going to Iceland to study.

I didn't know where it had gone wrong.

Then I opened our encrypted group chat and saw Adrian casually asking for my school portal and email passwords.

He had said he wanted to help "his little scatterbrain" double-check whether the collection and application had been submitted.

In that moment, my heart turned to ash.

With shaking hands, I called Adrian.

He picked up immediately.

I could hear the party on the other end, the four of them celebrating Nora.

It was loud and bright there.

But I felt like I was standing in the middle of winter.

It took me a long time to steady my voice.

"Was it you? Did you change the name on my collection to Nora's and use my work to get her that study placement?"

"Adrian, you know how much I gave up for this. My parents' company was counting on this opportunity to break into the European market. Do you have a heart at all?"

Adrian laughed and said to the people around him:

"Just a spam call."

Then he hung up.

When I called again, I was blocked.