When the Loser Became rich heir

CHAPTER 8

Chapter Eight

The VIP lounge remained frozen in stunned silence. Salvatore's face had gone from red to ashen gray. Francesca looked like she might faint, her heavily made-up features contorted in horror. Even Giulia stood motionless, her eyes wide with disbelief.

Luca himself felt equally blindsided. He owned this store? This entire mall? The revelation was almost too much to process.

"Mr. Romano," Valentina's voice cracked as she dropped to her knees, her severe demeanor shattered. "Please, I beg you. I didn't know. I didn't understand. Give me another chance. I have a family—two children. I'll do anything—"

"No." Caterina's voice cut through the pleading like a blade. "Security, escort Ms. Conti from the premises. She has five minutes to collect her personal belongings."

"Please!" Valentina sobbed as the guards approached. "Mr. Romano, have mercy!"

Luca watched her being led away, his expression neutral. She'd shown him no mercy. She'd thrown his card on the ground like garbage. Actions had consequences.

Maestro Giorgio stepped forward again, his weathered hands clasped together. "Mr. Romano, I cannot express how mortified I am. To think such treatment occurred in an establishment bearing my name..." He shook his head. "I have a suit prepared for you—ready to wear. A fully bespoke piece would require a week, but this one has been tailored and will fit you perfectly. Please, allow me this small gesture of apology."

Thirty minutes later, Luca stood before a full-length mirror, barely recognizing himself. The suit was midnight blue, so dark it appeared black in certain light. The fabric felt like liquid silk against his skin. The cut was flawless, emphasizing his lean frame. Italian leather shoes replaced his worn sneakers. A crisp white shirt and subtle silver tie completed the transformation.

"You look like a chairman now, sir," Caterina said with approval.

The Mercedes glided through evening traffic toward the waterfront district. The White Whale restaurant rose before them—a stunning glass structure that jutted over the harbor like the prow of a ship. Soft golden light spilled from its windows.

Caterina led the way through the entrance. The maître d' took one look at her, then at Luca in his impeccable suit, and bowed deeply.

"Ms. Russo, Mr. Romano. Welcome. Mr. De Luca is expecting you in the Sky Suite."

They ascended in a private elevator, walls made of frosted glass that gradually cleared as they rose, revealing the glittering city below. The top floor opened into an exclusive dining area—only six private rooms, each larger than most apartments.

"Fewer than a hundred people in this city have access to this floor," Caterina murmured. "Lorenzo De Luca practically lives here."

The Sky Suite's doors opened. A distinguished man in his fifties rose from a leather chair. His silver-streaked hair was perfectly styled, his charcoal suit worth more than a luxury car. But despite his obvious wealth and power, Lorenzo De Luca's expression was deferential as he approached.

"Mr. Romano." Lorenzo extended his hand with a respectful nod. "It's an honor to finally meet you. Galaxy Tech's investment transformed my company from regional player to industry leader. I owe my success largely to your vision."

Luca shook his hand, still adjusting to this strange new reality. "Mr. De Luca, thank you for the invitation."

"Please, call me Lorenzo. And the honor is entirely mine."

They settled into conversation—talk of markets, technology, future ventures. Lorenzo was sharp, insightful, but always careful to show deference. After twenty minutes of discussion about artificial intelligence applications, Luca excused himself.

"The restroom?" He felt awkward asking.

"Of course." Lorenzo gestured toward the hallway. "Left down the corridor, last door on the right."

Luca stepped into the hallway, its walls adorned with abstract art that probably cost six figures per piece. He turned left, then right—or was it supposed to be right first?—and found himself pushing through a door that opened not into a restroom, but into the main dining hall.

The space was elegant but far more crowded than the exclusive floor above. Perhaps sixty diners sat at white-clothed tables, the murmur of conversation mixing with soft piano music.

"Why are you here again?"

Luca's body went rigid. He knew that voice.

Isabella sat at a corner table, her expression one of cold disgust. Her dark hair was pinned up elegantly, a burgundy dress hugging her slender frame. And beside her, close enough that their shoulders nearly touched, sat Alessandro.

"Are you following me now?" Isabella's voice carried across several nearby tables, drawing stares. "What is this, Luca? Some pathetic attempt to scam more money out of me?"

Alessandro leaned back in his chair, a smirk playing at his lips. "Desperate much? We already told you—your mother's funding is suspended. Stalking us won't change that."

Luca's jaw clenched. "I'm here on business. Legitimate business."

Isabella's laugh was harsh and brittle. "Business? You?" She looked him up and down, her eyes lingering on his suit with suspicion. "What business could you possibly have? Did you steal that suit? Or are you waitstaff now? That would actually be a step up for you—at least you'd be contributing something to society instead of being a complete waste of space."

"I'm not—"

"Not what? Not a loser?" Alessandro cut in, his voice dripping with contempt. "Not a pathetic excuse for a man who can't even afford his own mother's medical bills? Face it, Luca. You're dirt. You're less than dirt. At least dirt can grow something useful."

Several diners were openly watching now, their conversations paused.

Luca's hands curled into fists at his sides. He forced his voice to remain level. "I could ask you the same question, Isabella. Why are you here? With your assistant?" He emphasized the last word, letting his gaze shift meaningfully between them. "Is this a business dinner? Or something else?"

Isabella's cheeks flushed with anger. "How dare you! Your mind is as filthy as everything else about you! This is absolutely business, not that you would understand the concept. Unlike you, some of us have ambition. Some of us actually work for a living."

"Right," Luca said slowly. "And this work involves... intimate dinners with Alessandro?"

"We're here," Isabella said icily, "because I heard Lorenzo De Luca himself would be dining at The White Whale tonight. He's the richest man in this city, and making his acquaintance could open doors for the Benedetti Corporation. But you wouldn't understand that, would you? You don't understand networking, business strategy, or basic professional development. You just sit in our penthouse like a lazy parasite, contributing nothing."

Alessandro nodded smugly. "Not everyone is as unmotivated as you, Luca. Some people have drive. Ambition. Goals beyond begging for handouts."

Luca stared at them both, his mind racing with dark irony.

They were here to meet Lorenzo De Luca.