When the Loser Became rich heir

CHAPTER 3

Chapter Three

Luca shot to his feet, his legs nearly buckling beneath him. Three and a half billion dollars. He had the money. His mother would live.

He sprinted down the corridor toward the intensive care unit, his worn sneakers squeaking against the linoleum. As he rounded the corner, his blood turned to ice.

Three nurses were wheeling his mother's gurney out of the ward. Maria Moretti lay motionless, her face gray, oxygen tubes still connected to her frail body.

"Stop!" Luca's voice cracked as he ran toward them. "What are you doing? Stop!"

The lead nurse, a heavy-set woman named Patricia with cold eyes and a permanent sneer, didn't even slow down. "We're moving her to the hallway. Policy, Mr. Moretti. No payment, no room."

"I have the money!" Luca grabbed the edge of the gurney, his chest heaving. "I have it right now! I can pay for everything—the surgery, the room, all of it!"

Patricia exchanged glances with the other two nurses, both younger women who seemed to take their cues from her. All three smiled, but there was no warmth in it—only contempt.

"Oh, you have the money now?" Patricia's voice dripped with mockery. "Let me guess—you won the lottery in the last ten minutes?"

"I'm serious," Luca insisted, pulling out his phone with shaking hands. "I can transfer it right now. Just tell me how much—"

"Listen, sweetheart," Patricia interrupted, crossing her arms over her ample chest. "We've dealt with dozens of deadbeats like you. Poor little losers who think they can sweet-talk us into free medical care. It doesn't work that way."

One of the younger nurses, Sophie, giggled. "He really thinks we're that stupid."

"Please," Luca begged, his voice breaking. "Just let me pay. I have the funds. I swear—"

"Swear on what?" Patricia cut him off. "On your pathetic life? You're dressed like you shop at thrift stores, you don't even have a job, and you expect us to believe you suddenly came into money? What are you, some kind of con artist?"

"I'm not lying!" Luca's hands trembled as he held up his phone. "Look, I can show you the transaction. I just received—"

Patricia snatched a portable card reader from her pocket and thrust it in Luca's face. "Fine. You want to prove you're not a lying piece of trash? Swipe your card. Right now. One hundred thousand dollars."

Luca's stomach dropped. His mind went blank.

"Well?" Patricia's smile widened. "We're waiting, Mr. Moneybags."

"I... I don't have my card with me."

The nurses exploded in laughter.

"Of course you don't!" Sophie slapped her thigh. "Oh my God, this is priceless!"

"Let me guess," Patricia sneered, leaning closer until Luca could smell her coffee breath. "You left your wallet in your other Ferrari?"

"My wife has my cards," Luca said quietly, heat flooding his face. "But I can transfer the money from my phone. Please, just give me the hospital's account information—"

"Your wife has your cards?" Patricia's eyebrows shot up. "What kind of man doesn't even control his own bank account? Oh wait—I know exactly what kind. The kind who lives off his wife like a parasite. Like dirt clinging to someone's shoe."

"That's not—"

"Save it." Patricia waved her hand dismissively. "You're just trying to buy time. Hoping we'll feel sorry for you and give your mother free treatment. Well, guess what? We're not a charity for losers."

"I'm telling you the truth!" Desperation made Luca's voice rise. He fumbled with his phone, pulling up his messages. "Look! I just received a transfer. See? Three point five billion dollars from—"

Patricia grabbed the phone from his hands. Her eyes scanned the screen for exactly two seconds before she burst into laughter so loud it echoed down the hallway.

"Oh... oh my God!" She doubled over, wheezing. "Girls, look at this! He made a fake text message!"

Sophie and the other nurse crowded around, peering at the screen. Their laughter was like nails on a chalkboard.

"'Your account has received three billion dollars,'" Sophie read aloud in a mocking voice. "This is your big con? A photoshopped text message? That's the best you could come up with?"

"It's real!" Luca reached for his phone, but Patricia held it out of reach.

"Thirty-five billion dollars," Patricia said, her voice dripping with scorn. "Do you even understand how much money that is? That's more than you could earn in a thousand lifetimes, you pathetic worm. And you think we're stupid enough to believe this?"

"Please, just let me make the transfer!" Luca's vision blurred with tears of frustration. "Give me back my phone!"

Patricia tossed it to him carelessly. Luca caught it, his fingers flying across the cracked screen. He navigated to his banking app, typed in the hospital's payment portal—

Nothing happened.

He tapped again. The screen froze.

"No, no, no," Luca muttered, jabbing at the payment button frantically.

"Is that what a billionaire's phone looks like?" Patricia's voice was pure venom. "That ancient piece of junk? I've seen homeless people with better phones! Look at that cracked screen! You probably found it in a dumpster!"

Sophie pointed at the phone. "The screen's not even responding. It's dead, just like your scam."

"Come on!" Luca hammered the screen with his thumb, his desperation mounting with each passing second. "Work, damn it, work!"

Patricia reached for the phone. "Alright, show's over. Time to stop wasting our—"

The screen flickered to life.

Luca's thumb found the confirmation button. He pressed it.

A loading circle appeared. Seconds felt like hours.

Then, in crisp green letters:

PAYMENT SUCCESSFUL.

The hallway fell silent.