When the Loser Became rich heir

CHAPTER 9

Luca paused mid-step.

He turned back slowly, one brow lifting, his gaze settling on Isabella and Alessandro with a quiet, cutting sharpness.

“So,” he said, his tone laced with cold amusement, “you’re here for Lorenzo.”

Alessandro smirked. “Took you long enough to figure that out, genius.”

Isabella didn’t smile. Her expression remained composed, distant. “It’s not something you would understand.”

Luca let out a soft, humorless laugh. “You’re right.”

He took a step closer, his eyes dark.

“Mr. De Luca won’t cooperate with people who have no moral standards.”

The words dropped like a stone into still water.

Alessandro's face stiffened instantly. “Watch your mouth, you broke piece of dirt.”

Isabella's eyes narrowed slightly. “You don’t get to talk about morality.”

Luca’s expression didn’t change.

“You’re the last person who should be saying that,” she continued, her voice colder now. “Your mother is lying in a hospital bed, barely alive… and here you are.”

She gestured around the luxurious dining hall.

“Spending money at a place like this.”

The nearby diners began to turn their heads.

Whispers started to spread.

“Did he just say his mother is dying?”

“And he’s eating here?”

“That’s disgusting…”

“He looks like that type…”

Isabella noticed the attention—and didn’t stop.

“If I didn’t know better,” she added, her voice rising just enough, “I’d say you stole her medical expenses just to come here and pretend to be someone you’re not.”

The murmurs grew louder.

Alessandro grinned, feeding off the tension. “Wouldn’t be surprising. Guys like him? They’d sell their own family for a good meal.”

“Pathetic,” someone muttered from another table.

“Scum,” another whispered.

Luca stood still, his face calm—but his eyes had turned completely cold.

Isabella watched him, her expression steady, indifferent rather than cruel.

“If you truly don’t care whether she lives or dies,” she continued, “then there’s no point in me continuing to support her treatment.”

She crossed her arms.

“I’ll cut off all medical payments.”

A small gasp rippled through the crowd.

“Good,” someone said quietly. “People like him don’t deserve help.”

Alessandro nodded with a smug smile. “That should teach you a lesson, huh? No more free money.”

For a moment— Silence.

Then—Luca laughed.

Low. Cold. Mocking.

“Medical payments?” he repeated.

He looked straight at Isabella.

“When have you ever paid them?”

The words hit like a slap.

Isabella frowned. “What are you talking about?”

Luca’s voice remained calm—but every word carried weight.

“Every month,” he said, “I had to go through your ‘assistant.’”

His eyes flicked briefly to Alessandro.

“Every single time, I got the same answer.”

Alessandro's smirk flickered.

“Company finances are tight,” Luca continued. “Request denied.”

A ripple of confusion spread through the diners.

Isabella's brows drew together. “That’s not possible.”

Luca tilted his head slightly. “Isn’t it?”

Alessandro's heartbeat spiked.

A thin sheen of sweat formed on his forehead.

“She approved those requests…” Luca said slowly.

Isabella turned sharply toward Alessandro. “Did you?”

Alessandro forced a laugh, though it came out strained. “Of course I did. What kind of question is that?”

“Then where did the money go?” Luca asked.

The room grew quiet again.

All eyes shifted to Alessandro. For a split second— He froze. Then— He stepped forward quickly, cutting through the tension.

“Actually,” Alessandro said loudly, “I saw something interesting on the news earlier.”

The sudden change of topic made Isabella pause.

“What?” she asked.

Alessandro straightened, regaining his composure. “A mysterious tycoon set up a hundred-million-dollar medical fund at the hospital.”

The murmurs returned instantly.

“I saw that too!”

“Yeah, it’s all over the news!”

“A hundred million…”

Alessandro pointed subtly at Luca. “I’m guessing he applied for that assistance.”

The implication settled in.

“That’s why he’s acting so bold,” Alessandro continued smoothly. “He doesn’t need your help anymore.”

Understanding dawned on Isabella's face.

Then—Her lips curled slightly.

“So that’s it,” she said.

She looked back at Luca, her gaze sharpening.

“No wonder you’re so fearless all of a sudden.”

Alessandro smirked again. “Got lucky once and now he thinks he’s somebody.”

Luca said nothing.

Isabella's voice carried clearly across the room.

“But things are different now.”

The surrounding diners leaned in, eager.

“I won’t help someone like you anymore,” she said coldly. “Someone who lacks basic morality.”

She paused, letting her words sink in.

“And I sincerely hope that whoever that mysterious donor is…” she added, her tone edged with quiet disdain, “has enough sense to stop supporting someone as disgraceful as you.”

A wave of agreement followed.

“Exactly.”

“Why waste money on trash?”

“People like him don’t deserve charity.”

Alessandro folded his arms, looking satisfied. “Hear that? Even strangers can see what you really are.”

He leaned closer, lowering his voice into a cruel whisper.

“You’re nothing but a parasite.”

Luca met his eyes. For a moment—There was no anger. Just something colder.

“You talk a lot,” Luca said quietly.

Alessandro scoffed. “What, you don’t like hearing the truth?”

Luca’s lips curved faintly.

“The truth?” he repeated.

He glanced briefly at Isabella. Then back at Alessandro.

“The truth is,” Luca said, his voice calm and steady, “you’ve been living very comfortably off money that was never yours.”

Alessandro's face stiffened.

“You should be careful,” Luca continued softly. “People who steal from the sick… don’t usually end well.”

Alessandro's jaw tightened. “You got proof?” Luca didn’t answer. He simply looked at him.

And that silence—Was heavier than any accusation.

Isabella's gaze shifted between them, her expression unreadable. “What is he talking about?” she asked.

Alessandro forced a laugh again. “Nothing. He’s just trying to stir trouble because he got called out.”

Luca straightened his jacket.

“I’m done here,” he said.

Alessandro sneered. “Yeah. Run along. That’s all you’re good for anyway.”

“Go back to whatever hole you crawled out of,” someone added mockingly.

“Don’t forget to beg for leftovers on your way out,” another voice chimed in.

Soft laughter followed. Isabella said nothing. She simply watched him—

Cold. Distant. Unmoved. Luca turned his back on them.

And walked away.

But as he did A faint, almost imperceptible smile touched his lips. Because unlike them—He already knew how this night would end.