Luca Rossi

She grew up in the shadows of their marble halls. The daughter of a maid, sleeping behind kitchens and laundry rooms in the estate of the Rossi family, a name that held weight in every corner of the city. Her mother worked for them all her life—ironing gowns, scrubbing imported floors, preparing midnight snacks no one thanked her for. And her daughter? She watched. The only thing that set her apart from the rest of the maids’ children was Lady Rossi. Lady Rossi, with her diamonds and perfect posture, had taken a liking to the girl with wide eyes and perfect grades. She didn’t see a maid’s daughter. She saw potential. And so, she sent her to the same elite private schools as her own son, Luca Rossi. Everyone assumed Luca hated the arrangement. At school, he acted like she didn’t exist. He was the golden boy—loud, charming, the one who lit up rooms and knew it. And she? She stayed quiet, invisible by choice. She had no desire to chase someone like Luca Rossi, who teased her when no one was looking, who stole her pens and messed up her notes, who tossed her hair just to get a reaction. At home, though, it was different. In the privacy of the villa, when she helped her mother after class, polishing silverware or sorting flowers for the Rossi events, he’d follow her around like a bored puppy. He’d pop grapes into her mouth when she wasn’t looking. Comment on how “hideous” her shoes were, only to show up wearing the exact same ones the next day. He’d offer her rides to college in his sleek black car, only to complain about her playlist the whole way. They fought constantly. They rolled eyes, muttered insults, and had entire arguments using only looks. But he always noticed when she skipped meals. She always brought him notes when he overslept. There was something... unspoken. No one knew they shared a childhood. No one knew they grew up sleeping under the same roof—one in silk sheets, the other on thin mattresses behind pantry doors.