551-555

*Chapter 551: Either Flirting or On the Way to Flirt*

"Heh, working late? Pulling an all-nighter to write a script? Who are you fooling?"

In the villa, Miranda tilted her head, touching her chin with a mischievous grin dimpling her cheeks.

"Miranda, who was on the phone?"

Lima came down the stairs, carrying a little one in her arms.

"Doria, Luca's secretary, called."

Miranda smirked, wrapping her arm around Lima. "Guess what she said?"

"What?"

Lima chuckled.

"Go ahead, guess!"

Miranda pinched the little one's cheeks playfully.

"You’re smiling so easily, so it can’t be bad news. Luca usually finishes work around five, but it’s already six, and he hasn’t come home or called. That means he’s busy. Is he in a meeting at the company?"

Lima smiled as she speculated.

Miranda blinked. "Lima, you’re so clever—almost got it right!"

"Almost? Then why did Doria call?"

Lima sat down, setting the little one on the carpet to crawl around.

"Haha, you won’t believe it! Luca had Doria call to say he’s working late, even pulling an all-nighter! Haha! Do you think that’s possible?"

Miranda laughed.

Lima thought for a moment. "Well, he has been really busy lately. He’s probably working overtime."

"No matter how busy he is, he wouldn’t pull an all-nighter. He’s the CEO, for crying out loud! The overtime excuse is just a cover. As for what he’s really doing… heh heh."

Miranda smirked with a sly laugh.

"Stop smirking," Lima said with a small smile, pinching her cheek. "Luca said he’s working late, and I believe him. He’s an honest man and wouldn’t lie to us."

"Honest?!" Miranda’s face was full of disbelief. "Are there even honest playboys in this world?"

"Lima, aren’t you worried he’s out with someone else?"

"No, I’m not. We’re all here at home, and he wouldn’t dare do such a thing."

Lima spoke confidently.

Miranda remained skeptical.

"What are you two chatting about? Why isn’t Luca home yet? Dinner’s almost ready!"

Kate emerged from the kitchen, wearing an apron.

"Kate, Luca says he’s working late at the company and won’t be home tonight," Miranda said, watching Kate’s reaction closely.

Kate frowned slightly. "Is he really that busy?"

"Haha, Kate, you think he’s lying too, don’t you?" Miranda said gleefully.

Kate shook her head. "He’s not lying—he wouldn’t dare."

"Hahaha, Kate’s got it right," Lima said, laughing.

Miranda raised an eyebrow, as if considering this. "But what if he suddenly grew bold? Remember Gina said some men are so lustful, their courage is boundless."

"Stop overthinking. How about we head to Los Angeles tonight and check on him?" Kate suggested, smirking as she propped her chin in her hand.

Clap! Miranda clapped her hands. "Kate, that’s the best idea I’ve heard all day! Let’s eat quickly and then head out!"

"Are we really going?"

Lima hesitated.

"Why not? We’ve got nothing else to do tonight. We can even bring him dinner," Kate said.

"Exactly!" Miranda nodded eagerly, her lips curling into a mischievous smile. "And we’ll pack a couple of baseball bats. If he’s really working late, we’ll bring him a warm meal. If not… heh heh."

—

By 8 p.m., two sports cars sped out of Big Pear Tree Manor, their headlights piercing through the night as they headed straight for Brassiere Films on West Hollywood Boulevard.

"What if he’s not there?"

Getting out of the car, Miranda asked with a mischievous grin.

"Then your baseball bats will come in handy," Kate joked.

"Haha, perfect! Let’s go, go, go!" Miranda waved her hand enthusiastically, her long legs striding toward the office building.

"Why does Miranda have such a vendetta against Luca? She’s always itching to beat him up," Lima mused.

Kate chuckled. "Once, Miranda kept egging us on to gang up on Luca. He got mad and spanked her a few times while we weren’t around."

"That’s it? I thought maybe Luca pinned her against a wall or something."

"He wouldn’t dare," Kate said with a smile.

"Ha!"

"What are you laughing at? Hurry up!" Miranda called from the elevator.

"Coming!"

The two followed with lunchboxes in hand, Gina tagging along wordlessly.

At the company entrance, one of Luca’s bodyguards was asleep while the other watched TV.

"Lauren, is Luca here?"

"Yes, he’s upstairs."

The four entered. Brassiere Films wasn’t large—just over ten departments across three floors, with an office space of less than 2,000 square meters. Luca’s office was on the east side of the third floor.

"This place seriously lacks taste," Miranda grumbled.

"Why would a film company need fancy decor? It’s not a studio," Kate countered.

"Listen, there’s a woman’s voice coming from Luca’s office," Miranda said excitedly.

"Stop guessing. It’s probably Doria," Kate replied.

Creak. The door opened, and Doria stepped out holding a coffee cup. Seeing four women at the door—two of them holding bats—she paused in surprise.

"Ms. Kelly, what are you doing here?"

"We brought Luca some dinner. Has he eaten?" Kate asked with a smile.

"He had some pasta and pizza this afternoon. I was just about to ask if he wanted a late-night snack. You came at the perfect time," Doria said.

"Doria, could you take the food in for us?" Kate asked.

"You’re not going in?"

"No. He’s busy working, so we won’t disturb him," Kate replied.

"Right. He’s been at his desk since 4 p.m., typing nonstop without even a bathroom break," Doria added.

"Really?" Miranda peeked through the doorway, only to see Luca furiously typing on his computer, his posture unchanged.

"He’s probably writing a script. When inspiration strikes, he loses himself in his work," Kate explained.

"Hard to believe a guy like him takes work so seriously," Miranda muttered.

Lima chuckled softly. "Don’t underestimate him. If he didn’t work hard, where do you think all that money comes from? You don’t think he just casually makes millions, do you?"

"Miranda probably thinks Luca spends all his time either flirting or heading to his next flirtation," Kate teased.

"Ha!"

Lima covered her mouth, laughing.

Miranda blushed slightly. She had thought that way before.

"Doria, do you have a screening room? Let’s hang out here and keep Luca company while he works," Kate suggested.

"Sure. We have some great films," Doria said, leading them to the screening room.

Snacks and drinks were quickly set up, and the group chatted, ate, and watched movies.

Two hours later, they checked on Luca. He was still typing furiously, his fingers flying over the keyboard.

"Is he a machine?" Miranda marveled.

Kate sighed softly. "Let’s go home."

"Fine," Lima said, pulling Miranda away.

The next morning, at 8 a.m., Luca finally finished the script, stretching as his joints cracked audibly.

"Boss, Kate and Lima were here last night," Doria informed him.

"I know," Luca said with a smile, glancing at the lunchboxes. "Thanks for staying late. Take today off—I’m not working either."

"Will do!"

Doria left, and Luca sipped his coffee, polished the script, and drove back to Big Pear Tree Manor.

(End of Chapter)  

*Chapter 552: This Is Pure Slander*

After returning home, Luca felt drowsy and ended up sleeping until the afternoon.

“Luca, did you not sleep at all last night?” Miranda asked at the dining table.

“No, before I knew it, the sun was up,” Luca replied, sipping his porridge.

“Don’t push yourself so hard—take care of your back,” Lima said, patting his lower back.

“It’s fine. I’m in great shape,” Luca straightened his back and smiled.

“Doria said you’re writing a screenplay?” Kate asked.

“Not exactly—a director’s script. It’s a detailed shooting outline with storyboards for the film. With a director’s script, shooting becomes much smoother,” Luca explained.

“Why are you writing that? You’re not a director,” Kate asked, placing a bowl of creamy mushroom soup in front of him.

“Well, this time, I actually plan to be the director,” Luca said with a grin.

“Really? A short film?”

“No, a feature film—a big production. It’s Inglourious Basterds. Quentin Tarantino stepped down, and they couldn’t find the right replacement, so I decided to take it on,” Luca briefly explained. Quentin’s close ties with Brad Pitt made Luca uneasy, so when Quentin offered to step away, Luca immediately agreed.

“A multimillion-dollar production, and you, a newbie, dare to take the helm?” Miranda asked, stunned.

“I’m no newbie. Check that cabinet over there—the winner of the Best Short Film Director at the 59th Cannes Film Festival is none other than me, Luca Kelly. I’ve won international awards,” Luca declared.

“Pfft, short films and features are worlds apart! I’m a video blogger. I’ve made hundreds of videos—more experience than you. Let me direct instead!” Miranda joked.

“Short videos and movies are completely different,” Luca said, shaking his head. “But your ambition is commendable. Ms. Fletcher is looking for an assistant director. Want to give it a try? Start as an assistant and work your way up to director.”

“No way. If I’m going to do it, I’ll be the lead director. Assistant director? No, thanks,” Miranda said, pouting.

“Stop talking big,” Kate teased, pinching Miranda’s lips. “When does the filming start?”

“Probably November or December. The story is set in winter,” Luca replied.

“Wow, you’re packed this year—from January to December,” Lima said with a smile.

“No wonder the newspapers are calling you a workaholic,” Kate joked.

“Really? Which newspaper?” Luca asked excitedly. Was his PR team finally making moves?

“Do you actually like the title ‘workaholic’?”

“Of course—it’s better than being called a scumbag,” Luca said with a shrug.

---

The next day, Mr. Ross called to inform Luca that director Eli Roth had read the script and wanted to meet. They arranged to meet at the café below the office.

Eli Roth, a young director in his 30s, was a graduate of NYU’s film program and had worked with big names like David Lynch, Quentin Tarantino, and Robert Rodriguez. Besides directing, Eli was also a screenwriter and actor with many roles to his name—a true jack-of-all-trades.

“Mr. Kelly, it’s an honor to meet you,” Eli said politely, standing to greet him.

“Director Roth, no need to be so formal. Before we begin, I have a suggestion,” Luca said with a smile, pointing to Mr. Ross beside him. “He’s Producer Ross, and you’re Director Roth. It could get confusing, so I’ll call you Eli, and you can call me Luca.”

“Alright, Luca Kelly,” Eli said with a grin.

After some pleasantries, Luca asked, “Eli, have you read the script?”

“Yes, I have. It’s absolutely fantastic! Luca, your storytelling skills are top-notch,” Eli praised.

“Thanks for the compliment. So, are you interested in co-directing this movie with me?” Luca asked directly.

“Yes, I am,” Eli replied, then hesitated. “But I do have a few questions.”

“Go ahead.”

“Luca, is it true that Quentin Tarantino was originally set to direct this movie?”

“Yes, but he was too busy, and we hadn’t finalized the male lead, so he chose to step away,” Luca explained.

“Has the male lead been decided now?” Eli asked.

Luca glanced at Mr. Ross, who said, “We’re in talks with actors like Robert Downey Jr. and Jason Statham. We’ll finalize the lead soon.”

“Robert Downey Jr.?” Eli said, surprised. “Isn’t Luca playing the male lead?”

“Who said that?” Luca asked, equally surprised.

“It’s been rumored that you wanted to play the lead, but Tarantino disagreed, so he quit the project,” Eli said.

“That’s pure slander,” Mr. Ross laughed. “Quentin had been searching for a male lead since May and eventually chose Brad Pitt. However, Pitt’s fee was too high for our budget, and negotiations fell through. Quentin didn’t want to give up on Pitt, so he left with him.”

Eli nodded. Most people in the industry knew about the tension between Luca and Pitt. Quentin’s choice of Pitt made collaboration impossible.

“Luca, you’re not considering playing the male lead yourself?” Eli asked.

Luca chuckled, “Do you think I’m suitable?”

“I trust your acting skills,” Eli said with a smile.

Luca shook his head. “Writing, directing, and acting all at once is too much. This is my first feature as a director—I need to focus on directing.”

“You’re right,” Eli said, relieved. Like Quentin, Eli felt Luca’s refined, aristocratic aura didn’t suit the wild, rogue character.

“So, what’s your plan for shooting? Since we’re co-directing, I’d like to know your approach,” Eli asked.

Luca smiled and pulled out a folder. “Eli, this is the storyboard I just finished. Take a look and let me know your thoughts.”

“You already finished the storyboard? That’s fast!” Eli exclaimed.

“Yes, as a screenwriter, I visualize the film while writing. But imagined scenes and actual shots are different, so I’d appreciate your input.”

“Alright,” Eli said, flipping through the storyboard. The more he read, the more impressed he became. It was incredibly detailed and comprehensive—a complete director’s guide. With this, even a novice could make a decent film.

“Luca, you did this alone?” Eli asked, astonished.

“Yes, it took me just over two days,” Luca replied.

Eli was floored. Storyboards typically required input from multiple departments, including art direction, cinematography, props, and lighting. Yet Luca had completed it solo before assembling a crew.

“Luca, with this script, do you even need me?” Eli joked.

“I do. I’m a conceptual thinker, not an action-oriented person. I can write scripts, but that doesn’t mean I’ll excel as a director. I need your help,” Luca said earnestly.

“You’re too modest. Your short film The Tuner was brilliant and is now used as a teaching case in many film schools. Among young directors, your skills are top-tier,” Eli said.

Luca shrugged. “You know I’m also an actor. I’ll be filming another project in July and August, so I need someone to handle the preparation work. That’s where you come in.”

Eli thought for a moment. “I see.”

“So, shall we shake on it?” Luca extended his hand.

“Deal!” Eli said with a smile.

With Eli on board, the project, which had stalled after Quentin’s departure, resumed smoothly. Vacancies in departments like cinematography, makeup, and props were gradually filled.

Now, only the casting remained.

(To be continued)  

*Chapter 553: This Excuse Isn’t Half Bad*

“Ross, have any of the actors responded?”

In the office, Luca poured two glasses of whiskey with ice and handed one to Mr. Ross.

“Yes, Robert Downey Jr., Jason Statham, and Tom Hardy have all replied. They seem interested in Aldo. Who do you think is the best fit?”

Mr. Ross asked.

Luca pondered for a moment. The first choice should be Robert Downey Jr. For one, his acting is solid—he earned an Oscar nomination for Best Actor back in 1993.

Secondly, due to past issues, including a stint in jail, his career had taken a major hit, and his current asking price is quite low. This year, for Iron Man 1, he was only paid $500,000.

Thirdly, with Iron Man poised to be a massive success next year, Downey will become an A-list star, rivaling the popularity of Brad Pitt.

“The top choice is Robert Downey Jr., but since Eli is also directing, you might want to get his input during the casting process.”

“Understood!”

Mr. Ross nodded before asking, “What about the two female leads? Do you have anyone in mind?”

“No, I’ll leave that to the production team and casting group. Just make sure they’re suitable for the roles. And during auditions, avoid any inappropriate practices. If any scandal leaks, I’ll be the one taking the fall.”

“Haha, got it. I’ll be careful.”

Mr. Ross chuckled, picked up his files, and left the office.

Luca stretched and returned to work.

For the next few days, he focused on preparing for Inglourious Basterds.

However, Quentin’s departure and Luca stepping in as director sparked negative rumors.

Word spread that Luca frequently interfered with productions, which drove Quentin away. Others claimed Quentin wanted Brad Pitt as the lead, but Luca disagreed, leading to heated disputes and their eventual fallout.

Within the industry, there was skepticism about Luca’s ability to replace a legendary director. Some said he was reckless with his wealth; others thought he needed a failure to bring him back to reality.

Due to these rumors, the number of auditioning actors shrank significantly. Jason Statham didn’t show up, but fortunately, Robert Downey Jr. did—and his audition was impressive.

The production decided to cast him as the male lead.

At the moment, Downey was only a B-list star, commanding a $1 million fee.

After the audition, Luca had a chat with him, asking why he took the role despite the negative buzz.

Downey admitted he was concerned but needed the money—he’d recently married and was saving to buy a house.

Luca smiled.

The role of the “Baseball Killer” went to Tom Hardy.

Hardy, a British actor who debuted in 2001’s Band of Brothers, had been stuck playing supporting roles due to his rugged looks and tattoo-covered body, limiting his career growth. He was currently a C-list actor.

With Robert Downey Jr. and Tom Hardy, Luca believed their combined talent could hold their own against Brad Pitt.

As for the “Jew Hunter,” Christoph Waltz was invited to reprise the role. He had delivered such an extraordinary performance in the original that he completely outshone Brad Pitt. Waltz quickly accepted the offer.

With these three cast members confirmed, a significant part of the casting was complete.

Luca then shifted his focus to another film, 21.

The pre-production work for the movie was nearly done, with shooting set to begin next month.

21 follows Ben Campbell, a brilliant MIT student who joins a small card-counting gambling group to pay for tuition.

Guided by a math professor, Ben masters card-counting techniques and learns to rake in millions at blackjack tables in Las Vegas, only to find himself in serious trouble.

Luca was cast as Ben Campbell, a dark-haired, intelligent, and soft-spoken prodigy.

To better embody the role, Luca began reading math books and solving problem sets to appear more like a number-obsessed academic.

After a few days, the math problems were driving him crazy.

“Luca, what are you doing? Studying for the TOEFL?”

Miranda walked into the study with a fruit platter, dressed in a white lace dress. Her golden, wavy hair cascaded over her shoulders, making her look like a sweet little fairy.

“TOEFL? What for?”

Luca put down his pen and rubbed his temples.

“For college! I remember you once said in an interview that you envied young people studying in universities. If you want to go to college, you can pick any top university in the world.”

Miranda handed him a fork.

“No need. College is for learning survival skills. I’m already wealthy—why bother?”

Luca replied while eating the fruit.

“College has lots of pretty girls. You’d be like a wolf among sheep—date whoever you want. Doesn’t that sound fun?”

Miranda teased.

Luca shook his head. “Don’t see me through that lens anymore. Ever since having a few little ones, I’ve toned it down.”

“Then why are you doing math problems? Geez, these look so hard!”

Miranda, who wasn’t great at academics, took one look at the problems and closed the book.

“I’m researching gambling techniques. Do you know blackjack? If you can memorize the cards, you can easily win millions at the table.”

Luca asked in a tempting tone, “Miranda, want to learn? With this method, you could become a billionaire in no time.”

“Really? Then I’ll grab Kate and Lima. The four of us can go to Vegas and try our luck!”

Miranda responded enthusiastically.

“No, just kidding. My gambling skills aren’t ready yet. Maybe later.”

Luca grabbed her wrist to stop her.

Miranda pouted. “I heard you and Jamie lost tens of thousands at a beach club casino recently.”

“Who told you that?”

Luca frowned.

“Jamie told Anna, who told Kate and Lima. Now pretty much everyone in our circle knows. They say you’ve gotten hooked on gambling. If Kate and Lima weren’t so busy, they would’ve given you a piece of their minds.”

Miranda laughed.

Luca sighed. “That was a misunderstanding. Jamie dragged me to the casino, and since I was preparing for 21, I played a few rounds of blackjack. I lost some money, but it wasn’t a waste—I learned a lot that will help my acting.”

“Nice excuse. But be careful with Jamie; he’s bad news. Stick with him, and you’ll go downhill fast. If Kate and Lima find out, they’ll make sure you pay for it.”

Miranda waved her small fist.

“You’re right.”

“Of course I am.”

Miranda smiled, picked up the empty platter, and left the room.

Luca chuckled and returned to his books, delving deeper into the culture and strategies of the blackjack table.

*Ring, ring, ring*

That afternoon, his phone buzzed. The caller ID read “Anne Hathaway.”

During their last meeting in Prague, Hathaway had mentioned wanting to catch up. However, after Luca returned, she had left for a film shoot in the south.

“Good afternoon, Anne!”

Luca greeted as he picked up.

Anne Hathaway said she was back and invited him over.

Luca agreed.

(End of Chapter)  

Chapter 554: "What Are Your Hands Doing?"

The next day, Luca visited Anne Hathaway’s apartment.

Her home was located in the western part of Burbank, not far from Hollywood.

It was a duplex apartment with two levels, featuring a fireplace, a sun deck, a rooftop pool, a wine-tasting room, built-in bookshelves, and spacious interiors. It was one of the properties Anne Hathaway owned.

“Is this a new place?”

Luca asked, noticing the pristine furniture.

“Yes, I finished renovating it just last June. I’m often filming abroad, so I’ve barely spent any time here,” Anne replied, walking over with a glass of water.

She was wearing a simple Chanel dress paired with a checkered apron. Her ponytail made her look like an ordinary housewife—albeit a stunning one.

“The housing market has been crazy these past two years. I originally planned to buy a property in Manhattan, but when I consulted an agent, even the cheapest options were over 30 million,” Anne added.

“Did you buy it?”

“I ended up getting a place in Hawaii instead. Manhattan’s prices feel overinflated. I’ll wait for them to drop.”

Luca took the glass she offered and said, “Do you think they’ll drop? Lafrey, being in real estate, says that with America’s sustained economic growth and the influx of immigrants, housing prices in major cities will only keep rising. He believes that both buying a home and investing right now are very cost-effective.”

Anne nodded. Lafrey, her boyfriend, had made some money in real estate in recent years and leveraged his status as Anne Hathaway’s partner to mingle with high society.

However, Luca thought to himself that when the subprime mortgage crisis hit and the real estate market cooled, people like Lafrey—who flaunted their wealth—would end up like stranded fish.

Luca chuckled softly. “In the long run, Lafrey might be right. But he’s overlooking one thing: this is the heart of capitalism. Can America’s economy sustain eternal prosperity?”

“You’re talking about an economic crisis?” Anne asked, surprised.

Luca shrugged. “Recently, some articles in The Wall Street Journal have been forecasting a potential downturn. They argue that an overheated housing market could be a precursor to a financial crisis.”

“Those kinds of articles appear all the time. Some people are constantly shouting about another dot-com bubble and warning against investing in tech, only to use that fear to steer people toward real estate investments. That’s what Lafrey told me,” Anne said with a laugh.

“Fair point.”

Luca smiled and didn’t argue further. Certain lessons are best learned firsthand.

Anne Hathaway suddenly grinned. “Two people from the entertainment industry talking about economics—isn’t that a bit boring?”

“Not at all. You’re Anne Hathaway. Even discussing philosophy or mathematics with you would be fascinating.”

“Ha! Is that a pickup line?” Anne tilted her head, laughing.

“Of course not. It’s a straightforward compliment.”

“Now I understand why so many women like you. You’re rich, handsome, and, on top of that, talking to you is genuinely enjoyable.”

Anne’s eyes sparkled as she gazed at him, her lips curling into a playful smile.

“Thanks. Talking to you is fun too,” Luca said, inching closer, his eyes locked on hers.

“What are you doing? We’re in my house,” Anne said, pressing a hand against his chest, laughing.

Luca leaned down and whispered in her ear, “I feel like having a cigarette.”

Anne chuckled, tilting her face away and lifting her chin. Her red lips parted slightly, resembling delicate rose petals.

Luca gently cupped her face and kissed her softly.

Sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, illuminating the bookshelves. The two embraced, their breaths mingling.

Smack!  

Suddenly, Anne caught his hand, her eyes glistening with amusement. “Didn’t you say you wanted to smoke? What are your hands doing?”

“Flicking the ash,” Luca replied with a grin.

“That’s not part of the rules.”

Anne adjusted her apron and stepped back. “Lafrey will be here soon. Even if it’s just smoking, I don’t want him to misunderstand.”

“Fine. Lafrey’s a lucky guy,” Luca said, visibly disappointed.

Anne smiled faintly and wiped his lips with a tissue, removing some of her lipstick. “You once said on the Cannes stage that you’re the luckiest person alive. No one’s luckier than you.”

“You’re my one regret,” Luca murmured, pulling her closer by the waist.

“No, you’re just too greedy,” Anne teased.

“Yes, I am. I’m greedy for your beauty, greedy to be your friend, and even greedier to play a more intimate role in your life and your story. Would you let me?” Luca asked, his voice soft and earnest.

“Aren’t we already close?” Anne stood on her tiptoes and planted a light kiss on his lips before gently pushing him away.

“I should get started on dinner. Lafrey will be here soon. The two of you can talk business. Whatever you decide won’t affect our friendship,” Anne said.

“Okay.”

Anne headed into the kitchen, and Luca picked up a random magazine to kill time.

Ten minutes passed, but Lafrey still hadn’t arrived. Luca shook his head and walked into the kitchen.

“Still no sign of Lafrey?”

Anne was at the counter, carefully slicing tomatoes. Her clumsy movements suggested she was afraid of cutting herself.

“Nope.”

Luca leaned against the doorway, watching her back as she handled the knife.

“Maybe he got delayed. What are you staring at?” Anne asked, glancing over her shoulder.

“You. You look even more beautiful cooking than you do on screen,” Luca said sincerely.

Anne rolled her eyes, waving the knife at him. “Don’t flatter me, and don’t watch me. You’re making me nervous. If I cut myself, it’ll be your fault.”

Luca chuckled. “If you don’t mind, I can help. I’m not great at cooking, but I’m excellent at chopping.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

He took the knife from her. “At home, Kate cooks, and I handle washing and chopping.”

“Ha! That makes you the kitchen assistant!” Anne laughed.

Luca shook his head and began expertly chopping vegetables with rhythmic precision. Each piece was uniform, almost decorative.

“Wow! That’s amazing! Just how much chopping have you done in your life?” Anne exclaimed.

“Too much to count—probably over a decade.”

“Ten years as an assistant? Kate sounds like a boss! I’ve decided she’s my new role model,” Anne joked.

“Stop daydreaming and focus on cooking,” Luca teased, nudging her lightly.

“If you’re this good, you must know how to cook too. Why don’t you take over?”

“No way. I’m a man. Men don’t cook.”

Anne rolled her eyes. “Chauvinist!”

As Anne cooked, her movements were clumsy, and she ended up burning one of the dishes, wasting some of the perfectly chopped ingredients. Blushing, she asked Luca for help, but he refused.

Leaning against the counter, he watched her struggle, a mischievous smile on his face.

“You’re such a jerk!” Anne finally exclaimed.

“Fine, I am,” Luca said, stepping forward to hug her from behind. He took the spatula and expertly seared the steak in the pan until it was golden and fragrant.

(End of Chapter)

*Chapter 555: How to Be as Successful as Luca*

After finishing cooking, Anne Hathaway called Rafferty, who said he was stuck in traffic and would arrive in ten minutes. He also conveyed his apologies to Luca.

Luca smiled indifferently. “Better if he doesn’t come.”

“You’ve plated the dishes much better than I have, and you still claim you can’t cook?” Anne said as she set down a porcelain plate on the dining table, surveying the food.

“I really can’t. These are all your creations,” Luca replied with a laugh.

“Hmph, I’m finding you more and more dangerous,” Anne said, staring at him.

“Why do you say that?” Luca asked, puzzled.

Anne pointed at him. “You’re already outstanding, but you’re also great at cooking. If you were serious about breaking hearts, no woman could escape your clutches.”

“My clutches? You think that poorly of me?”

“Yes. I used to think you were just a jerk. Now, you’re a super jerk.” Anne laughed.

Luca chuckled. The word “super” was both humorous and cleverly chosen.

“Here, super jerk!” Anne handed him a glass of red wine.

“Thanks.”

The two leaned against the balcony, sipping their wine and exchanging sweet and subtle words. The atmosphere was gentle and calm.

*Ding-dong~ Ding-dong~* The doorbell rang.

Anne clicked her heels to the door while Luca remained gazing at the street.

“Mr. Kelly, my apologies for being late.”

A burst of warm laughter followed. The visitor was a sharply dressed white man in his thirties with an air of sophistication and a noticeable Italian accent. It was Rafferty Farrier, Anne’s current boyfriend, an Italian businessman who had made his fortune flipping real estate and trading building materials, becoming a multimillionaire.

“No problem. The view here is quite nice,” Luca said, shaking his hand.

“Yes, I picked this property for Anne. Great scenery and conveniently close to several Hollywood studios—perfect for her shoots.” Rafferty smiled.

“Mr. Farrier, you have an excellent eye.” Luca glanced at Anne and smiled.

“Thank you, Mr. Kelly. Please, call me Rafferty if you don’t mind.”

“Alright.”

“The food’s ready. You two can continue your conversation at the table,” Anne interjected.

“Thank you, darling. You’ve worked hard,” Rafferty said.

“It’s no trouble.”

—

Inside the dining room, the three sat in a triangle, with Anne in the center.

“Luca, welcome to our home,” Anne said, raising her glass.

“Thank you. I appreciate your hospitality,” Luca replied, clinking glasses with them.

“Mr. Kelly, you’re my entrepreneurial idol. Here’s to you!” Rafferty said warmly.

“You’re too kind.” Luca offered a reserved smile.

“Mr. Kelly,” Rafferty said after a sip of wine, “I’ve wanted to ask you something for a long time. Now that we’re finally face-to-face, may I?”

“Go ahead.”

“Mr. Kelly, like you, I started with nothing. In my twenties, after graduating from university, I ventured into the Italian real estate market and built a small fortune. Hearing that the U.S. offers even more opportunities, I left my business behind in Italy and started over here. After seven or eight years of hard work, I established my own real estate company and met Anne along the way.”

Rafferty kissed Anne’s hand. She smiled softly. “Darling, I’m so proud of you.”

Luca suppressed a smirk. Must they flaunt their love like this? So inconsiderate.

“Mr. Kelly, we’re both outsiders striving in a foreign land. Yet, you became the youngest self-made billionaire in just five years and an icon for countless others. It’s incredible. How can I achieve success like yours?”

Rafferty asked earnestly.

Luca smiled faintly. “That’s a tough question to answer directly, but there was an article about me in Business Weekly four months ago. Their analysis was interesting.”

“Can you share it with us, Mr. Kelly?” Rafferty asked.

“Sure. The article claimed my success boiled down to three things: luck, constant ‘infidelity,’ and relentless diversification.”

“Pfft!” Anne stifled a laugh. “Luca, are you serious?”

Luca shrugged. “Not joking. The article suggested I used scandalous affairs to gain attention and build my reputation, transitioning from an assistant to a supermodel and then an actor, accumulating initial funds. Then, I diversified investments, broke into Silicon Valley, and ultimately became a YouTube co-founder, landing me on the billionaire list. Anne, Rafferty, what do you think of this take?”

“It sounds plausible,” Anne said. “It paints a clear trajectory: model, media scandals, fame, more scandals, stardom, wealth accumulation, YouTube investment, and billionaire status.”

“Darling,” Rafferty interjected with a chuckle, “such an analysis is superficial. Following this formula alone wouldn’t replicate Mr. Kelly’s success. His achievements require talent, vision, charm, and a dose of luck.”

“For example,” Rafferty continued, “in 2002, Mr. Kelly’s heroic rescue showcased his courage and strength. The early 2003 fashion week success was a masterstroke of timing and a sprinkle of luck. The Spears scandal displayed musical talent and personal magnetism. And the founding of YouTube? It’s said Mr. Kelly invested over $40 million between 2003 and 2006, even mortgaging his home to make it work. That kind of boldness and persistence is beyond ordinary people.”

“Anne,” Rafferty asked, “would you gamble your entire salary on a website for three years with no return?”

Anne shook her head. “I’ve had offers to invest in websites, but I don’t understand the internet, so I never dared. Luca, how did you summon the courage to go all-in on YouTube?”

“Because I was one of YouTube’s co-founders. It was built on my vision. It was a dream of mine—whether it succeeded or failed, it was worth the effort. Luckily, it worked out,” Luca explained.

“Bravo!” Rafferty clapped. “Mr. Kelly, that’s incredibly inspiring—dream big and stick with it. That’s more motivational than any quote.”

“Thank you,” Luca said with a smile.

“Luca,” Anne said, “maybe you should turn your life story into a movie.”

“Maybe when I win an Oscar,” Luca joked.

“Ha! That day might never come.”

After dinner, Anne busied herself in the kitchen. Rafferty invited Luca to the wine cellar for a chat. Luca knew it was time to discuss serious matters.

(Chapter Ends)