2 The Big Shot Arrives
845 Words
Third Person POV
"Sir, the reserved seats are ready for you today. When will you and your guests be arriving?"
In the VIP corridor of the stadium, several uniformed staff members stood with serious expressions as a middle-aged man in a suit made a phone call. During the conversation, he unconsciously bent his back even lower.
He didn’t even get to finish his sentence before the call was cut off. Yet, he didn’t show any sign of frustration; he simply stood in place, waiting.
"Manager, are we really going to keep waiting for this guest?"
"Of course! Be cautious," the middle-aged man, addressed as the manager, whispered back, scolding the staff member while carefully scanning the surroundings.
"This guest is a very important person. I’m not even sure if he’s here for the game, but all of you better be on your best behavior. Do not do anything that might displease him."
The tense atmosphere was nearly suffocating as the sounds of the game announcer filled the stadium, making the man grow increasingly anxious. He had no idea if his call had offended “the gentleman.”
As he tugged nervously at his thinning hair, footsteps echoed from the entrance.
A group of men in black suits approached, and at the center were two tall young men. They all wore dark sunglasses, their faces serious. One of the men at the rear stopped the manager, who seemed about to speak, and instead showed him something on his phone.
"My boss has arrived. Thank you for your arrangements. Your compensation has already been transferred to your account. My boss wishes to keep a low profile, so please keep his visit confidential."
"I understand. If your boss needs anything, feel free to contact me. I’ll take my leave now."
After the group departed, the manager straightened up and gestured for the other staff to disperse.
A female staff member, who had been standing there for a long time, muttered in annoyance, "Who are these people, acting so high and mighty…"
Her coworker quickly pulled her aside, signaling her to stay quiet. Once they reached the corner, he whispered to her, "Today’s guest is someone really important. We should keep our mouths shut…"
—
After the intense game ended, in the VIP box on the second floor, a young man named David nudged the brooding young man beside him. They were the mysterious guests protected earlier.
"Marco, is that girl your sister?"
David asked with amusement, watching Marco’s reaction. Marco acted indifferent, but his gaze hadn't left the couple on the field.
They were the quintessential high school couple—young, vibrant, full of passion, and obviously in love. Anyone who saw them could feel the romantic energy between them.
Interesting, very interesting.
His eyes shifted back to Marco. Marco had just returned from Italy after completing a significant deal, taking a private jet back to the U.S. overnight. He hadn’t explained why, only saying he wanted to relax.
But instead of heading to a bar or private villa, Marco had deliberately come to a high school football game. As Marco's long-time friend, David had never known Marco to be interested in football.
David and Marco were comrades who had faced life and death together. Marco rarely kept secrets from David, but no matter how much David tried to pry this time, Marco wouldn’t tell the truth.
Was Marco secretly protecting his stepsister? That was highly unlikely.
Marco's lips held a cigar, his handsome face clouded. “David, I told you before—don’t say things I don’t want to hear. I don’t have a sister.”
Deep in his eyes, the reflection of the young couple embracing and kissing remained. The spotlight was on them, everyone was cheering and whistling—how utterly annoying!
“Fine, I’ll stop. But you sure came back suddenly this time. Your father probably doesn’t even know you’re back yet, right?” David changed the subject.
David lit a cigarette and glanced again at the cheerleader. He lowered his head, smiling, as if understanding something.
Maybe David had been in thought too long because Marco noticed his gaze. Marco crushed his cigar underfoot, visibly irritated, and turned away. "Everything in Italy has been taken care of. I plan to shift my focus to North America. I’ll be staying in the U.S. for a while."
“Happy birthday!”
The stadium erupted with cheers and screams again. The noise cut Marco off mid-sentence. He stood up, looking agitated. “Let’s go.”
David looked reluctant. “You’re not going to keep watching? Looks like they’re off to celebrate her birthday…”
“What’s there to see? Her birthday has nothing to do with me.”
But just before leaving the box, Marco’s peripheral vision lingered on the girl’s flushed face, still red from the passionate kiss. She was undeniably beautiful, and the boy holding her—he was annoyingly in the way.
Suddenly, Marco smiled coldly.
“Let’s see if you’re still this happy when you see me.”
“My stepsister.”
- Writer
