Primrose's sigh was a delicate puff of air, barely audible above the gentle sway of the yacht. The shower had been brief, efficient – a cleansing ritual rather than a luxury. Now, wrapped in the plush robe, she exuded an effortless elegance that belied the steel beneath.
She observed Isaac with a detached curiosity as he recounted his romantic woes. Chester's infidelity was hardly surprising; predictable even. Primrose had little patience for emotional drama, viewing it as a messy distraction from more important matters.
"Nope! Chester is always a cheater!" Isaac declared with a shrug.
Primrose simply nodded, her expression unreadable. She wasn't one to offer platitudes or empty reassurances. Actions spoke louder than words, and Isaac knew that well enough.
"Isaac, tell me what is the best high school in Sicily."
Isaac's face lit up, the brief cloud of romantic disappointment instantly banished by the prospect of a new challenge. He leaned forward, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.
"Okay, okay! So, if you're talking about sheer prestige and connections, it's gotta be the Accademia di Belle Arti di Palermo. It's renowned for its art and design programs – incredibly influential in the fashion world, actually. Lots of designers and artists come out of there who go on to international fame." He paused, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "But… considering your particular skillset and interests… I think you'd thrive at the Liceo Classico Benedetto Croce in Catania."
He saw Primrose's expression hadn't changed and continued.
Isaac launched into a detailed explanation, his passion for research evident in his animated delivery.
"The Liceo Classico Benedetto Croce is steeped in tradition – it's one of the oldest and most prestigious classical high schools in Sicily. They focus heavily on Latin, Greek, philosophy, history... it's a rigorous curriculum designed to cultivate sharp minds and critical thinkers."
He paused, gauging Primrose's reaction.
"It's known for attracting incredibly intelligent and ambitious students – a lot of them come from very influential families. It's a hotbed of political maneuvering and social climbing, which I think you'd find… stimulating." A mischievous glint appeared in his eyes.
"Plus," he added with a grin.
"it's rumored to have a surprisingly robust underground network of student clubs and secret societies."
"Isaac, let's go to that school it's the one," Primrose said as she closed her eyes and went to sleep.
The quiet finality in Primrose's voice settled over the room, effectively ending the conversation. Isaac stared at her for a moment, a mixture of amusement and respect in his expression. He knew better than to argue with a decision that had been made so swiftly and decisively.
"Alright then," he said softly, not wanting to disturb her slumber.
"The Liceo Classico Benedetto Croce it is."
He watched as Primrose's breathing deepened, her face relaxing into an almost childlike serenity. It was a rare sight – this unguarded vulnerability – and he found himself strangely protective of it.
He quietly left the room, a whirlwind of instructions already forming in his mind. Preparations for their arrival in Sicily would need to be expedited. New identities, travel arrangements, securing a suitable residence… the list was extensive.
The Sicilian sun beat down on the yacht as they approached the port of Palermo, the air thick with the scent of salt and citrus blossoms. Isaac's exuberant outburst – a stark contrast to Primrose's usual composure – was almost jarring. Yet, it was undeniably infectious, and a faint smile tugged at the corners of her lips.
"Ahhh fuck we are finally in Sicily! Bitch I am so excited!" Isaac shouted, practically vibrating with energy.
"So your heartbreak is over now you want to find another?" Primrose quipped, the unexpected lightness in her voice catching Isaac off guard. It was a rare moment of genuine amusement, a glimpse behind the carefully constructed façade of indifference.
"Humph! Speaking of which I got us to the best apartment in Sicily – it's a penthouse," Isaac retorted, deflecting her teasing with a flourish.
Primrose simply shrugged, pulling a vibrant pink lollipop from her pocket and inserting it into her mouth with a languid grace. The sugary sweetness swirled on her tongue, a momentary distraction from the complex game she was about to play.
"Impressive," she conceded, her voice muffled slightly by the candy.
"A penthouse will certainly offer a strategic vantage point." Her eyes narrowed slightly as she surveyed the bustling harbor below.
"Ensure it's secure, Isaac. We don't want any unwelcome visitors."
She paused, letting her gaze linger on the ancient city sprawling before them. Palermo – a labyrinth of narrow streets, hidden courtyards, and simmering secrets. It was the perfect stage for her grand entrance.
"Let's see what Sicily has in store for us," she murmured, the playful glint returning to her eyes. They walked inside a fancy building this building has 85th floors. There apartment building is on the top floor room 109th.
The opulent lobby of the apartment building was a testament to Sicilian extravagance – marble floors, soaring ceilings, and elaborate chandeliers casting a warm glow on the surroundings. The VIP elevator, lined with polished wood and plush velvet, felt more like a private lounge than a mode of transportation.
Primrose's movements were deliberate, her every gesture radiating an air of quiet confidence. She barely glanced at the front desk as Isaac handled the formalities, her attention focused on the intricate details of her surroundings. The game on her phone was merely a prop, a subtle distraction from the keen observation that lay beneath.
As the elevator ascended, carrying them towards their penthouse sanctuary, she finally lowered her phone and turned to Isaac.
"How much is the monthly payment?" she inquired, her voice cool and precise. It was a practical question, devoid of any unnecessary pleasantries.
Isaac, momentarily startled by her sudden interest in finances, quickly recovered. He rattled off the figure with practiced ease.
"Twenty thousand euros a month, including all utilities and security. A bit steep, even for us, but the view is unparalleled and the security detail is topnotch. They have 24/7 surveillance and a private security team on standby."
He paused, noticing Primrose's expression hadn't changed.
"Worth it for the discretion, wouldn't you say?" he added with a hopeful smile. He knew Primrose valued privacy above almost everything else.
"Want me to pay for it? Or you?" Primrose asked both had money and Primrose had many ways to earn money though she was only 17 years old.
Isaac's hopeful smile faltered slightly at Primrose's direct question. He'd anticipated a more nuanced discussion about the expense, perhaps a subtle acknowledgement of the extravagance. But Primrose, as always, cut straight to the point.
"You can pay," she stated matteroffactly, her gaze fixed on the panoramic view unfolding outside the elevator doors. The city of Palermo stretched out below them – a vibrant tapestry of terracotta rooftops, winding streets, and sparkling turquoise waters.
"It's less complicated," she added, her voice devoid of any emotion. It wasn't a matter of generosity or preference; it was simply the most efficient solution.
She didn't elaborate on how she would pay, nor did she offer any explanation for her sudden interest in finances.