The Return Of The Young Marshal's

Unexpected Reverence

CHAPTER 7: Unexpected Reverence

The commotion in Bellissimo had drawn a crowd. Shoppers pressed against the store's glass windows, phones out, recording everything. Security guards in crisp uniforms rushed toward the scene, but they parted suddenly as a tall, distinguished man in an impeccable charcoal suit strode through.

Osvaldo Bianchi, General Manager of Galleria Paradiso, was a man who commanded respect through sheer presence. At fifty-two, his silver hair and sharp features gave him the look of a Roman senator. He'd built his career on maintaining order in Marina Azzurra's most prestigious shopping destination.

"What is the meaning of this disturbance?" Osvaldo's voice cut through the chaos like a blade. "Who dares disrupt the peace of my establishment?"

A young saleswoman named Alessia pointed with a trembling finger. "Them, Signore Bianchi! That man and woman! They—"

"It's ME who should be complaining!" Russo struggled to his feet, blood streaming from his mouth, his expensive suit torn and filthy. "I'm Russo Ferretti! Second scion of the Ferretti Group! A major customer! And this... this VAGRANT attacked me!"

Osvaldo's eyes swept over the scene: the destroyed merchandise, the blood on the floor, Russo's battered appearance, and then—crucially—Lorenzo and Cecilia standing together near the register.

"Signore Bianchi," Russo continued, spitting blood, "I demand these insects be arrested! Thrown out! I'll sue this establishment for allowing such trash inside! My family spends millions here annually!"

"Do you?" Osvaldo's voice was dangerously calm.

"Yes! So expel them immediately, or I'll—"

"Guards!" Osvaldo's command rang out. "Remove this man from the premises. Immediately."

The security guards looked at each other in confusion.

"Signore?" One guard hesitated. "Remove... Signore Ferretti?"

"Did I stutter?" Osvaldo's eyes were chips of ice. "Remove this spoiled scion. Now."

"But sir, he's a Ferretti! The family will—"

"The family will understand that we don't tolerate people who disturb our other guests." Osvaldo's tone brooked no argument. "Remove him. If you refuse, you're fired. All of you."

The guards exchanged panicked glances. Lose their jobs, or anger the Ferretti family? It was an impossible choice.

"NOW!" Osvaldo roared.

Three guards rushed forward and grabbed Russo by his arms.

"What? What?!" Russo struggled violently. "You can't do this! I'm a FERRETTI! Do you know what my family will do to you? To this mall?"

"Frankly, Signore Ferretti, I don't care." Osvaldo's expression was granite. "You've destroyed property, assaulted other customers, and created a public disturbance. Guards, ensure he leaves. Forcefully, if necessary."

"NO! You insects! You're all DEAD!" Russo thrashed as the guards dragged him toward the exit. "My father will burn this place to the ground!"

One guard, perhaps too rough or perhaps deliberately so, slammed Russo against the doorframe. Two more teeth clattered to the floor, trailing blood.

"MY TEETH! YOU BROKE MY TEETH!" Russo's screams echoed through the mall as he was hauled away.

Cecilia stood frozen, her mind unable to process what she'd just witnessed. They'd expelled Russo? A Ferretti heir? That was impossible. Unthinkable. The Ferretti family owned half of Marina Azzurra. They were untouchable.

And yet...

Osvaldo turned to face them, and Cecilia braced for the inevitable. Now he'd turn on them. Demand they leave. Call the real police.

Instead, Osvaldo bowed. Deeply. A full formal bow that brought his silver head level with his waist.

"Signora Romano," he said, his voice filled with profound respect. "Please accept my sincerest apologies. I failed to recognize your presence in our establishment. The disturbance you suffered is inexcusable."

Cecilia's mouth opened, but no words came out. Signora Romano? How did he know that name?

"I... I don't understand," she finally managed.

Osvaldo straightened, his expression grave. "The fault is entirely mine. Had I known you were shopping here, I would have personally attended to your needs. Instead, you were accosted by that... individual."

"But I'm nobody," Cecilia said, confusion making her voice shake. "I'm not a VIP customer. I'm not—"

"You are exactly who you need to be, Signora." Osvaldo gestured, and an assistant rushed forward carrying a black velvet box. "Please, allow me to make amends for this regrettable incident."

He opened the box with a flourish. Inside, resting on white silk, was a pure gold card. It gleamed under the store's lights, embossed with elegant script: "Galleria Paradiso Unlimited - Signora Cecilia Romano."

"This is our highest tier membership card," Osvaldo explained. "Valid at any Galleria Paradiso establishment—of which there are over three thousand locations across Etruria. With this card, you may purchase anything you desire. Clothing, jewelry, accessories, anything. All charges are waived. Completely. Forever."

Cecilia stared at the card as if it might bite her. Each garment in stores like Bellissimo cost tens of thousands of euros. Unlimited free shopping? It was insane.

"I can't accept this," she whispered. "There must be some mistake. I'm not—"

"There is no mistake, Signora." Osvaldo's voice was firm. "The owner of Galleria Paradiso, Signore Giulio, has specifically instructed that you receive every courtesy, every privilege, every—"

"Giulio?" Lorenzo's voice was quiet, but something in his tone made Osvaldo pause. "Giulio Ferretti?"

"Yes, Signore Romano." Osvaldo bowed to Lorenzo as well. "Signore Giulio left explicit instructions regarding both you and your wife. You are to be treated as our most valued guests."

Cecilia's head spun. Giulio Ferretti—the cousin who'd always been kind to her, who'd moved abroad years ago to manage the family's international business interests. But why would he...?

"I don't deserve this," Cecilia said, pushing the box away. "Please, take it back. I appreciate the gesture, but—"

"Signora, I must insist." Osvaldo's expression became almost desperate. "If you refuse, Signore Giulio will... he will not be pleased. With me."

"I'll explain that it was my choice—"

"He will fire me," Osvaldo said bluntly. "And ensure I never work in retail management again. Signora, please. I have a family. Children in university. A mortgage—"

"That's not fair!" Cecilia protested. "You can't force me to accept by threatening your own livelihood!"

"I'm not threatening, Signora. I'm stating facts." Osvaldo's hands trembled slightly. "Signore Giulio was very clear. If I failed to provide you with this card, if I allowed you to leave without it, he would consider it a personal insult. And Signore Giulio does not forgive personal insults."

Lorenzo placed a gentle hand on Cecilia's shoulder. "Perhaps you should accept, cara. To spare Signore Bianchi's dignity."

"But Lorenzo—"

"Refusing would anger Signore Giulio," Lorenzo said carefully. "And I suspect neither of us wants that."

Osvaldo nodded vigorously. "Signore Romano is correct, Signora. Please. I'm begging you." He dropped to one knee right there in the middle of the store, in front of dozens of watching customers. "Please accept this token of Galleria Paradiso's esteem."

"Get up!" Cecilia hissed, mortified. "People are staring!"

"I will remain here until you accept," Osvaldo said firmly. "I will kneel before you all day if necessary."

"This is insane," Cecilia muttered, but she reached out and took the golden card. The metal was warm in her palm, heavy with implication. "Fine. I accept. Now please, get up."

Osvaldo rose with visible relief, brushing off his knee. "Thank you, Signora. You've shown me great mercy."

"I still don't understand why—"

"It's not for us to understand the decisions of great men," Osvaldo said diplomatically. "We simply follow their instructions. Now, is there anything else I can do for you? Would you like a private shopping experience? Personal stylists? Refreshments?"

"We're fine," Lorenzo said, guiding Cecilia toward the exit. "Thank you, Signore Bianchi."

"The pleasure is entirely mine, Signore Romano. Please, visit us again soon. And Signora," he called after Cecilia, "remember—anything you desire, in any of our stores, is yours. No limits. No questions."

As they left the store, Cecilia clutched the golden card, her mind reeling. Around them, whispers followed like smoke.

"Did you see that?"

"They expelled a Ferretti!"

"Who ARE those people?"

"That card... I've never seen one like that..."

Outside, in the cool afternoon air, Cecilia finally found her voice. "Lorenzo, what just happened? Why would Giulio do this? Why would anyone treat me like... like I'm important?"

Lorenzo's expression was unreadable. "You've always been important, Cecilia. The world is just starting to realize it."

"That's not an answer!"

"No," Lorenzo agreed. "It's not. But it's the truth." He took her hand gently. "Come. We have a birthday dinner to attend. And I suspect tonight will bring even more surprises."

Cecilia stared at the golden card in her other hand, then at Lorenzo's calm, mysterious face. Powerful forces were protecting her—forces she didn't understand, couldn't comprehend.

Twenty-four hours ago, she'd been nothing. An insect. A pawn to be sold off for business advantages.

Now she held unlimited wealth in her palm and walked beside a man who made even the powerful bow.

What was happening?

And more terrifyingly—why?

As they climbed onto her battered electric scooter, the absurdity of the situation struck her. Unlimited shopping privileges, but still riding a scooter that barely ran.