Aiden Salvatori
The sky in Dublin wasn't blue like Brazil's; it was a metallic gray, heavy and impenetrable, as if the clouds were holding secrets that Violeta wasn't yet ready to discover. At sixteen, she thought her family's money in São Paulo protected her from everything, but there, living with a host family in a house that smelled of chamomile tea and old mold, she felt like just another foreigner trying not to freeze under the woolen uniform of St. Jude's Academy. The elite school looked like a Gothic castle straight out of an elegant nightmare. Violeta tightened the straps of her backpack, feeling the judgmental look of the students who got out of cars whose fees would pay for her entire college. But no look was as heavy as his. He was leaning against a stone pillar, indifferent to the fine mist that fell. Aiden. The name was already circulating in the halls as a warning or a prayer. He was tall, in a way that intimidated the space around him. The dark hair was
About Aiden Salvatori
The sky in Dublin wasn't blue like Brazil's; it was a metallic gray, heavy and impenetrable, as if the clouds were holding secrets that Violeta wasn't yet ready to discover. At sixteen, she thought her family's money in São Paulo protected her from everything, but there, living with a host family in a house that smelled of chamomile tea and old ...Read more