The Heir

Chapter 1

I'm really good at lying. It's something I've done my entire life. Lie about my name. Lie about my family. Lie about my family's business.

After a few years of that, lying about other stuff came easy. Lie about who broke Gabby's doll, who spent two grand at boutiques. Lie about where I'm going and who's going to be there. Lie about school work and grades. Lie about sneaking out and ditching my guards.

Until eventually my parents had enough. They said I had become my own safety hazard. So they sent me away all the way across the ocean to Switzerland. A posh boarding school at the base of the mountains called Montrose Academy.

I didn't particularly want to go, not at first at least. But Ryan was my saving grace.

Ryan and I have been friends since we were little kids. We used to play video games and bake cookies together. He got sent here when he was only six; apparently it was his safest option. So when I came when I was twelve, he stepped right up to help me out.

My dad was worried about him for a while but we've proven time and time again that we are purely friends. Honestly, he's my oldest and best friend. It's hard to have play dates and go to the mall when your father runs the mafia. But Ryan is almost part of the family; he gets it. He's one of the few people I don't have to lie to. There's just no need.

It also helps that my parents agreed to let me continue my ballet training. I was on the fast track to the New York Ballet Company when they sent me away but I haven't let that setback stop my training. I still go to rehearsals every single day and practice my ass off in my free time.

I've accumulated a reputation for myself here at Montrose. It wasn't intentional but it happened anyway. I'm untouchable.

Straight A's with minimal effort. Cast as the lead in every school play. Captain of the equestrian team. Multiple trophies for ballet. All kinds of people constantly surrounding me.

It doesn't hurt that I inherited my mother's beauty. I'm not talking about Victoria, I'm talking about Maria. I look more and more like her as I age, people say it all the time. Big green eyes with naturally thick lashes. Dark hair that sits in loose curls. Long legs and a tiny waist.

If it wasn't for Ryan and his friends, I fear the other boys might attempt bolder methods of drawing me in. It's not that I couldn't handle it myself, I know how to fight, but Ryan has forged a reputation for himself as well.

He's the outcast. He doesn't come from money like the rest of the students at Montrose. He doesn't know etiquette or formal manners. But he does know how to fight and I'm pretty sure that's his favorite pastime. Not to say that he's a bully, because he's not, but he has a penchant for violence.

I don't mind. It reminds me of home.

But this year is different. This year my little brother Enzo starts his own educational journey at the tried and true academy for the elite. I glance at him briefly.

We sit side by side in the back of a bulletproof SUV. Dad drives while Mom rambles on and on about all of the fun we're going to have. I roll my eyes and look out the window.

"Isabelle," my father starts.

I turn to look at him, "sì, Papà?"

"Sei pronto per il nuovo semestre?" he asks, looking at me through the rear view mirror.
(Are you ready for the new semester?)

"Sì," I nod. "I completed my summer reading weeks ago and ballet starts in a few days."

"Buono," he nods.
(Good)

"Mom?" my brother asks.

"What is it, caro?" she asks, turning in her seat.

"Are our guards going to come with us?" he asks. "I didn't see them on the jet."