“I need a favor.”
One eyebrow lifted, curiosity sparking in her eyes.
“Go on.”
“A student has applied here. Nina Moretti. I need you to make sure she gets in.”
Her expression grew contemplative as she leaned back in her chair. “I can’t simply admit a student based on a request, Ronan. The process must be fair and rigorous.”
I reached into my jacket pocket and pulled out my checkbook, flipping it open. “Name your price.”
She gulped, momentarily taken aback by the directness of my offer. After a brief hesitation, she called for her assistant. “Bring me the application for Nina Moretti.”
The assistant returned with a folder, handing it to SignoraRinaldi, who opened it without hesitation. “Nina is applying for one of our most prestigious and expensive programs,” she said, glancing up at me. “This is not a small favor.”
I met her gaze unflinchingly. “The price?”
She sighed, her gaze lingering on the documents. “Say I accept her. The tuition fees… how will they be paid?”
I chuckled, shaking my head. “There isn’t a price too high to ensure her happiness.”
Signora Rinaldi left me alone in her office for what felt like an eternity, but was likely only half an hour. Memories of Nina—her laughter, dreams, and loving gaze—resurfaced, mingling pain with the hope of securing her future.
Fashion had always been her dream. I remembered the way her eyes lit up when she talked about designing and the passion she put into every sketch and creation. To her, fashion wasn’t simply about clothes; it was a form of self-expression and a way to tell her story.
Seeing her happy and thriving in this world meant everything to me. If staying away was the price of her joy, I would pay it a thousand times over. Even if it broke me, her happiness would always matter more than my own.
She returned with a neat stack of documents outlining the tuition and fees, setting them in front of me. One glance was all it took. I reached for my pen and wrote a check for seventy thousand euros to cover Nina’s tuition, housing, and books, then a second for thirty thousand euros toward the school’s development fund.
“I need Nina to get in,” I said firmly, my voice steady but filled with the gravity of my request.
She took the cheques, her expression one of reluctant acceptance. “It’s done. She can expect her acceptance letter later this week.”
A wave of relief washed over me, but it was tinged with thebittersweet realization of the distance between us. “Thank you, and keep it anonymous.”
As I stood to leave, she stopped me. “I reviewed her application and saw her designs.Sono incredibili.4 She’s going to high places with talent like this.”
I smiled, a genuine warmth spreading through me. “I’m well aware of her talent,” I replied, pride and a lingering sadness mingling in my chest as I left the office.
Chapter Two
RONAN
Present Day
NEW YORK CITY
Grief was something I never expected but knew existed. I lived a good life. I was honest, loyal, compassionate, and rarely bothered people. So, when it came knocking at my door five relentless years ago, I was torn apart, broken beyond repair, and utterly lost.
My parents were my guiding stars. They did everything to ensure my siblings and I had the best life. Even in their deaths, they made sure we were well taken care of. Losing them was like having the ground ripped out from under me. I thought it couldn’t get worse, but then it did. My sister and mygrandparents were all stolen away by the same merciless disease—cancer.
Each day, I sat in a state of shock, drowning in a sea of questions.
What had I done to deserve this?
Why did they deserve it?
Why did they have to leave me?
