The fashion show concluded, and the banquet began.
Inzaghi, the seasoned playboy, dove right in, enjoying himself thoroughly, paying no mind to Suk.
Suker watched Inzaghi coldly.
This guy was truly thick-skinned—flirting left and right, constantly getting rejected, yet never showing a trace of defeat.
Defeated time and again, yet relentlessly persistent!
In Suker's mind, the Ninth Master should've been a suave expert in love—just a finger curl away from a crowd of swooning fans.
Yet the reality was the complete opposite.
Phew—
Suker exhaled, sighing.
"What a terrible day!"
"A terrible day? Why do you say that?"
A sudden voice came from behind.
Suker turned and saw a man in a sharp suit with slicked-back hair standing behind him.
Suker recognized him immediately.
"Hello, boss."
It was Silvio Berlusconi, honorary chairman of AC Milan.
Berlusconi walked over, accompanied by a middle-aged man Suker didn't recognize and none other than Gisele Bündchen—the woman Inzaghi had been obsessing over.
Berlusconi gave Suker a friendly pat on the shoulder and asked warmly:
"How's life in Milan?"
"Great. It's wonderful here!"
"I watched your recent matches—you've been performing superbly!"
"I'd give my life for Milan!"
That last line made Berlusconi burst into laughter.
Whether sincere or not, Suker's attitude clearly amused him.
As Suker glanced up, he noticed Gisele raise an eyebrow, her eyes carrying a trace of disdain.
What kind of look was that?
Suker shot her a hard glare in return.
Gisele was slightly surprised, then covered her mouth with a smile.
"Come, let's have a drink—to your continued success at Milan," Berlusconi raised his glass.
Suker took a glass from a nearby bartender and sipped it lightly.
During that time, he noticed the unfamiliar middle-aged man trying to put a hand on Gisele's waist.
She skillfully avoided it and instead rested her hand on his shoulder.
A real social butterfly.
Berlusconi soon left—but left Gisele behind.
Suker looked up at her.
Wearing sky-high heels, she still stood taller than him, despite his "six-foot" frame.
"Let's find somewhere to sit," Suker said, rubbing his neck. "It's starting to hurt."
Gisele arched a brow.
But she didn't decline.
The two walked out of the banquet to an outdoor rooftop lounge and took their seats.
Gisele sat across from Suker, crossing her long legs—making them look even longer.
"He's my boss, but we're not close."
Suker said in Italian.
Gisele nodded, also replying in Italian: "I could tell."
Her elegant jawline lifted slightly, exuding a touch of pride as she sipped her champagne.
But Suker's next line made her spit it out.
"He wants me to seduce you!"
Cough, cough!!
Even as a seasoned veteran of romance, Gisele had never heard such a ridiculous opening line.
Suker handed her a napkin.
Gisele cleared her throat and asked, "So?"
Suk shrugged. "But I'm not interested like that. We could be friends first."
Gisele smiled. "Be friends first, then seduce me?"
Suker frowned. "Why is your mind so filthy?"
Gisele was stunned.
None of Suker's lines followed any logical pattern she was used to.
Suker continued: "A friend of mine once said that to win over a beautiful woman, you need to meet two conditions."
Gisele rested a hand on the table—a relaxed posture. Clearly, she was intrigued.
She raised her brow. "What two conditions?"
Suker held up one finger. "Either you're unbelievably handsome."
Gisele nodded—reasonable.
"And the other?"
"Or you're very rich."
Suk pointed at himself. "Do you think I'm handsome?"
Gisele shook her head.
Suker then pointed at her. "Compared to you, I'm basically broke!"
Pfft!
Gisele burst out laughing.
"You're honest."
Suker nodded. "So why would I think I can seduce you?"
Gisele chuckled. "You're amusing. But you still want to seduce me."
"Your eyes have never once met mine—you've been scanning my chest, my legs, and my waist. You see me as prey."
"Not prey, but—" Suker shrugged, openly admitting: "Okay, fine, I do want to seduce you."
Gisele grinned. "But I like your vibe. We can start as friends."
She raised her glass with a smile. "Nice to meet you, my poor lad friend."
Suker clinked glasses. "Nice to meet you, my rich woman friend!"
With the door open, Suker began weaving his stories with his silver tongue.
He recounted funny things, especially amusing incidents on the football field.
As a Brazilian supermodel, Gisele naturally had an interest in football.
"I like Beckham," she said. "He's so handsome."
Suker rolled his eyes. "Can looks feed you? Ronaldo is the real deal!"
Gisele laughed and waved her hand. "I can't talk with you anymore. My jaw hurts from laughing."
She stood to leave.
"Hey, aren't you going to leave me your number?" Suker called out.
Gisele winked flirtatiously and pointed to the napkin on the table. "It's on that."
Suker quickly grabbed it.
He hoped it was her number—or better, a hotel room key.
But to his disappointment, it was just a number.
She left, and Suker was about to leave too.
He pulled out his phone and tried calling Inzaghi—no answer.
Tried again—still no answer.
Then he noticed a message from half an hour ago:
"Bro, I've headed to the next party. There are taxis at the airport—grab one!"
Suker's eyes bulged.
"Inzaghi! You bastard!"
Milan's night wasn't cold, but his heart was.
Suker had now fully realized how unreliable Inzaghi really was.
And now, he could only blame himself for not getting a driver's license.
He walked alone toward the taxi zone by the airport under the streetlights.
Just as he waited at a crosswalk, a red Ferrari pulled up with a roar and stopped in front of him.
The window rolled down.
It was Gisele.
"What are you doing here, my friend?"
Suker grinned. "I don't have a driver's license yet!"
Gisele blinked in surprise, then bent over the steering wheel laughing uncontrollably.
Wiping a tear, she said, "So… you were gonna take a cab?"
Suker nodded with difficulty.
Damn it—so embarrassing!
Gisele pressed a button.
The Ferrari's scissor door rose elegantly.
"Get in. I'll take you home," she winked playfully. "My poor lad friend!"
Gisele drove while Suker stayed unusually quiet.
"Why so quiet?" she teased. "Weren't you cracking jokes earlier?"
Suker: "You better focus on the road—or I'll report you for drunk driving."
Hahahaha!
Gisele laughed heartily again, this time more genuinely.
Just a block away from Suker's villa, he said, "Better stop here. There are paparazzi in front of my place."
Gisele pulled over. "That's a hassle."
Suker stepped out and walked quickly away.
Gisele called after him, "Next time you need a ride, call me!"
Suker sped up, not looking back.
Gisele smiled and drove off.
Once the car disappeared, Suker slowed down, rubbing his cheeks to relax the tense muscles.
Taking deep breaths, his flushed face gradually cooled.
He turned to the dark street and muttered:
"She's into younger guys, huh…"
Back at the villa, Suker stepped inside and saw Zorancic watching TV on the couch.
"You're back?"
Zorancic turned with a smirk. "I thought you weren't coming back tonight."
Suker shrugged. "I wasn't planning to."
Zorancic raised an eyebrow. "So, what happened?"
Suker: "Let's call it… a story."
"Which one?" Zorancic grinned.
Suker rolled his eyes. "You seem way too eager for me to hook up."
Zorancic calmly sipped his drink. "You need publicity. Not just from football, but off-field, too."
"Beautiful women and luxury cars—those things get you noticed."
"So, who was it?"
Suker: "Gisele Bündchen."
Zorancic froze for a second, jaw dropping slightly. "Gisele Bündchen? The world's top supermodel?"
"She's into you?"
It wasn't that Zorancic didn't believe in Suk, but Gisele was legendary.
Suker might be famous in football circles, but hadn't yet crossed into mainstream stardom.
From a fame perspective, Gisele was miles ahead.
Zorancic clearly wanted more gossip, but Suker was too tired.
He wasn't some energy monster like Inzaghi.
After playing a match and attending a fashion show, all he wanted now was a hot shower and sleep.
The next day, Suker yawned as he got out of bed.
His phone buzzed.
It was a message from Gisele.
"Good morning, my poor friend. Your paparazzi are very dedicated. We made the front page!"
Suker yawned and didn't think much of it.
Walking out, he found Zorancic waiting at the door.
"Morning!"
"Morning!" Zorancic chuckled. "You're all over Milan today—lucky guy."
He handed Suker a newspaper.
Suker glanced at the front page.
In big bold letters:
"World's Top Supermodel Gisele Bündchen's New Flame: Europe's Rising Football Star Suker!"
Beneath it, a picture of him and Gisele riding in the car together.
Suker scratched his head. "These reporters are amazing—when did they even take that?"