God, did he already know about what happened that fast? I never told him Alistair was my teacher. He’s going to be so mad I hid it from him.

He glances at me, and I can tell he’s had a rough day, or maybe night.

“Chibi, you’re finally home.”

He hugs me, and I’m at a loss for why.

“Max, did something happen? Why didn’t you call me?”

“I couldn’t tell you over the phone. It’s about your father.”

My blood runs cold in an instant, and I fear the worst.

“He’s been arrested,” Max continues.

I blink a couple of times as my brain tries to grapple with the news. My heart rejoices that he’s not dead, but in the next beat, it twists painfully in my chest again.

“What do you mean? Why?”

“He’s been accused of money laundering and fraud.”

I shake my head, my body automatically denying the accusations. “My father is not a criminal.”

“Chibi, calm down. I’m sure it’s a misunderstanding. I just learned about it last night and caught the first flight out of New York to get you. I didn’t want you to travel to Italy alone.”

“I didn’t even know you were in New York.”

“I booked a photo shoot last minute. I wanted to pay you a surprise visit after, and that’s why I didn’t tell you.”

My immediate response should be to say, “Yes, let’s book the first flight out to Milan,” but I hesitate.

What about Alistair?

“I-I can’t come to Italy.”

“Chiara, your father is in jail facing serious charges. I’m sure he’d like to have you there.”

“I have school, Max. I can’t simply leave at the drop of a hat.” My phone rings then. It’s from the principal’s office. “I have to take this.”

With my heart stuck in my throat, I say, “Hello?”

“Is this Miss Chiara Moretti?” a woman asks.

“Yes, this is she.”

“This is Principal’s Forrester’s assistant. He’d like to schedule a meeting with you today.”

I glance at Max, who’s watching me with a question in his gaze. I appreciate him coming all the way to tell me the bad news in person, but I’m not free to simply go as I please.

Guilt gnaws at my insides. Despite his faults, Dad always tried to do his best for me. If it weren’t for his support, I wouldn’t be here.

“Can I ask what this is about?”

“I’m not at liberty to discuss it over the phone.”

“Chiara, come on,” Max urges me. “If we hurry, we can catch the noon flight.”

Maybe me leaving the country for a few days will be the best thing I could do right now. Hopefully the scandal will be forgotten when I return.

“I can’t meet with Principal Forrester today. I have a family emergency, and I have to fly to Italy in a few hours.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. Hold a moment, please.” The line goes silent before I can tell her I can’t hold.

Shit. I bet the principal wants to talk about Alistair.

“Miss Moretti,” his assistant says, coming back on the line, “Principal Forrester would like to schedule a meeting online at your earliest convenience. I’ll email you the details.”

“All right. Sounds good.”

Better than me going back to school while the gossip mill is still churning furiously. Meeting with the principal via computer will hopefully be less humiliating.

I turn to Max. “I need to pack.”

As soon as I’m in the apartment, I call Alistair. He doesn’t answer. I try to leave a voice message, but his inbox is full. Cazzo. I send him a text instead, asking him to call me back as soon as he can.

I pack only essentials since I still have a ton of clothes back home. By the time Max and I leave my apartment, Alistair hasn’t called back yet.

What can he possibly be doing?

ALISTAIR

After getting my stuff, I head straight to Enzo’s office. There’s gotta be a way to fight Chiara’s expulsion. His office is downtown in one of the fanciest high-rises the city has. The place is as opulent as the man. Modern sophistication with a hint of arrogance.

The receptionist recognizes me, so all she does is greet me with a bright smile. I head to his office without waiting to be announced. One of the founding partners of this prominent law firm, he has the coveted corner office with sweeping views of LA.

He’s on the phone, yelling at some unfortunate soul, when I walk in. Swiveling in his chair, he nods at me, then proceeds to yell some more.

I walk to the window, trying to distract my mind with the view. It’s useless. I pat my pocket, looking for my phone, then realize I forgot it in my truck.

Enzo hangs up the phone and looks at me. “I didn’t expect to see you soon, Ali-boy.”

“Don’t call me that.” I glare at the man.

He whistles. “What’s with all the pent-up aggression? Maybe you should stop by at Ginga on your way home.”

“I need your help with something.”