Five Years Ago...
I ran back into the house, eyes stinging, face wet with tears and snot.
Behind me, the Bertellis rushed to help Martino off the ground. He was holding his face, staring after me—betrayed. Broken.
It was the last thing I saw before I shut the door.
I didn't look back.
I wish I had.
Present Day...
I blinked like I'd just seen a ghost.
Standing in front of me—real, towering, and sharp as ever—was Tommasino Bertelli.
My body went into autopilot. I offered a handshake."It's... it's good to see you, sir."
He raised an eyebrow. "A handshake? Really?"
"I panicked," I muttered.
"Still weird as ever, Finnegan," he said, then pulled me into a hug.
I stiffened at first—then let myself fall into it. His grip was solid. Familiar.For a second, I didn't feel seventeen. I felt twelve again. Just a kid getting pulled back into something he hadn't finished.
When he pulled back, his hands stayed firm on my shoulders, scanning me like a general inspecting his troops.
"You've gotten taller," he said, giving my arm a squeeze. "Stronger, too. You been fighting bears out here or something?"
I laughed—sort of. "Close. My mom signed me up for martial arts. You know, life skills. Kicking things."
He nodded, half-impressed. "She always was one step ahead."
"She is," I said quietly.
Tommasino gave me a long look, then tilted his head. "You might want to sit."
"Yeah," I exhaled, sinking into the chair. "Sorry. This is... a lot."
He sat beside me with a quiet groan."Five years," he said. "Feels like a blink and a lifetime."
"Yeah..." My voice dipped. "How's Marti?"
"Martino's doing well," he said. "Different from when you knew him. He's... steadier now. More like his mother."
"That's good." I hesitated, then added softly, "He still mad at me?"
"He is." No sugar-coating. "But he still talks about you. Always starts with something snide. Always ends with, 'I wonder what Finn's doing.'"
That one landed. I looked down at my hands.
Then I glanced at Caldwell. "Okay—what the hell's going on? What did Daniels sign me up for this time?"
Caldwell leaned forward. "I see Ms. Dorothy gave you the headline. Mr. Daniels submitted your name for a scholarship opportunity. On his own. Quietly."
I blinked. "A scholarship? Like, to where?"
"Mr. Bertelli informed me last week," Caldwell said, nodding toward him. "He wanted to be the one to explain, given your... complicated history."
Tommasino leaned in."It's called the Voltaire Scholarship Award. Finn, are you familiar with Voltaire Academy?"
I squinted. "You mean that ridiculously elite prep school? The one in..."
"Athena City," he said, standing. "Yes. The top of the top. Where the children of presidents and CEOs go to trade business cards and play polo."
"Sounds like Daniels." I scratched my cheek. "And he thought I belonged there?"
"I serve on the scholarship board," Tommasino said, pacing. "When your name came up, I won't lie—I was stunned."
"Wait, stunned how?"
"I didn't want favoritism coloring the vote," he said bluntly. "And I've never believed in giving someone a boost just because I know them. Martino earned everything he has. So did Gianna. Donny's still in middle school and has a Latin tutor stricter than a drill sergeant."
He paused beside the desk.
"You've always been bright, Finn. But Voltaire doesn't want 'bright.' It wants... precision. Pressure. Status. And you never struck me as someone who wanted that kind of life."
I nodded slowly. "I still don't."
He cracked a small smile. "Exactly. That's why this surprised me. Because when I read your nomination—your grades, your problem-solving skills, your approach to things—I saw someone who didn't fit Voltaire's mold."
"Which... I assume is a bad thing?"
"Not this time," he said. "It made the board pay attention. Especially that essay you wrote."
I sighed. "Please don't say Hitler."
"It was compelling," he insisted. "You dissected the man, not the monster. No one expects a high schooler to do that."
"Didn't excuse him. Just... tried to understand what made someone snap that hard."
"Exactly." He pointed at me. "You peeled back something real. That's what earned you the spot."
Caldwell leaned in."You've been selected. You're the only student here to receive this honor. Possibly the only one from outside Athena City this year."
I leaned back, stunned. "Holy..."
"I figured that'd be your reaction," Tommasino said, a little too proud of himself.
"I mean, yeah. You didn't come all the way here just to let me down easy."
"Maybe I just missed your face."
"You didn't."
"God, no."
We both chuckled.
Then the weight dropped again.
"But the choice is yours," he said, folding his arms. "No one's forcing you."
I looked at my hands again. The calluses from training. The ink stains from note-taking. All of it felt... small.
"I'd have to talk to my mom."
"Of course," Tommasino said. "She's smart. Always was. I trust her instincts."
I glanced at him sideways. "Martino's at Voltaire?"
He nodded. "And Adrik."
The name hit like a punch I didn't brace for."You still talk to the Volkovs?"
"They're like family. Lena and Bianca still swap soup recipes. Nikolai still invites himself over unannounced and brings expensive wine no one drinks."
"Still a big teddy bear?"
"He could own half of Europe and still insist on grilling sausages himself."
I chuckled. "Classic."
"And yes," he added, too casually, "Katya is there too."
I narrowed my eyes. "Why'd you say her name like that?"
He raised both palms. "No reason."
"Bullshit."
"Just thought you might want to know. Given your... teenage infatuation."
"I was twelve."
"You sighed when she spoke."
"Once!"
"Per syllable."
I groaned. "God, I hate you."
"And yet, here we are."
I shook my head. "Okay. If I accept, what happens?"
"You'd move in two weeks," he said. "Either to the Volkov estate or ours. We'll make space. Give you time to adjust."
"Two weeks..." I exhaled.
Tommasino checked his watch. "Sadly, I must go."
He stood and placed a hand on my shoulder."Think about it, Finn. We need someone like you. Someone who doesn't play their game, but still wins it."
I swallowed. "They... they still talk about me?"
"Like you never left."
And with that, he left the room.
Silence lingered like perfume.
Caldwell cleared his throat."Well. You don't seem to mind correcting me when I say Finnegan."
I smiled faintly. "He's family. Or... was."
"He still could be," Caldwell said softly. "And this opportunity... it's rare. Special. You're not just being offered an education. You're being offered a new story."
I stood slowly, my limbs heavier than they'd been when I came in."Would it be cool if I, uh... went home early?"
Caldwell arched a brow. "You're playing the 'life-changing offer' card to skip school?"
"I just got invited to the Hogwarts of rich kids. I think I've earned the rest of the day off."
He stared for a second, then sighed. "Take your bag. I'll write you a note."
I nodded. "Thanks."
"Finn," he said, just before I reached the door.
I turned.
"I hope you make the right choice."
I hesitated."Yeah. Me too."
Pause.
"So... I'mma just—"
"Go."