The Marchetti Estate in Shanghai City wasn't the main estate, but rather one of several opulent residences belonging to the sprawling and immensely powerful family. It was a testament to their wealth and influence, a sprawling complex of manicured gardens, shimmering fountains, and architectural grandeur that spoke volumes about their status.
Inside the mansion, a scene of boisterous extravagance unfolded. A group of six elderly individuals – three men and three women – were engaged in a lively, almost childish argument. They were the patriarchs and matriarchs of the Marchetti family, their faces etched with years of experience and radiating an aura of immense power and privilege.
"Dear, I am so excited to meet this girl," Old Madam Nonna declared, her voice laced with genuine warmth and a gentle smile gracing her lips.
"Honey, she is our granddaughter," Old Man Conner chimed in, his voice booming with jovial pride.
"Our eldest son and his new wife's daughter, you know."
The room erupted in a flurry of competitive boasting as each elder attempted to outdo the others in displays of extravagant generosity towards their newly arrived granddaughter.
"No way! Look at what I got for my precious granddaughter!" Old Man Jacob exclaimed, brandishing his phone with a triumphant grin. "One hundred sports cars! The latest models, all customized to her specifications!"
"You idiots!" Old Lady Lillian retorted, her voice dripping with playful disdain.
"I got an entire jewelry store! A private vault filled with diamonds, rubies, emeralds – the works! She can wear whatever she wants!"
"Huh? You guys."
"I got her an entire closet filled with limited edition clothes!" Old Madam Nonna countered, her eyes twinkling with mischievous glee.
"Every designer imaginable, all the rarest pieces you can think of!"
"Oh yeah? Well, I got her top-tier motorcycles! One hundred of them!" Old Lady Katherine declared, her voice rising above the din.
"The fastest, most exclusive models in the world! She'll be tearing up the streets in no time!"
"Hey, hey, you guys," Old Man Ryan interjected, attempting to regain control of the situation.
"I got her one hundred villas and twenty penthouses! Across the globe! She can live anywhere she pleases!"
The elderly members devolved into a playful squabble, each vying for the title of most generous towards their new granddaughter.
The cacophony of extravagant gift-giving was abruptly cut short by the entrance of Vincenzo, the eldest grandson of the Marchetti family. His presence commanded immediate silence. He wasn't merely entering a room; he was radiating an aura that seemed to subtly shift the very atmosphere. It was a potent blend of ruthless power and unexpected gentleness, a duality that made him both captivating and intimidating.
Vincenzo was a striking figure, standing tall at 6'3 His short, messy black hair framed a face sculpted with almost inhuman precision – a sharp jawline, high cheekbones, and piercing dark eyes that seemed to see through everything. He was dressed entirely in black: tailored trousers, a sleek black turtleneck beneath a long, flowing crimson coat that billowed slightly behind him as he moved.
A delicate silver skull necklace hung around his neck, a subtle flash of rebellion against the traditional elegance of the Marchetti family. In stark contrast to his edgy attire, he held prayer beads in his left hand and a Buddhist bracelet on his right – an unusual combination that hinted at a complex inner world. At twenty-seven years old, Vincenzo possessed an almost otherworldly beauty, reminiscent of a Greek god brought to life.
Though his aura seemed inherently gentle, it was underpinned by a power so immense it felt almost tangible. His dark eyes narrowed slightly, and a flicker of recollection crossed his face – a memory from just two weeks prior.
Two Weeks Ago
Jennifer had rushed forward, practically vibrating with manufactured concern and thinly veiled ambition.
"Eldest Young Master," she'd declared, her voice dripping with saccharine sweetness.
"I am Jennifer, my mother and I will be staying with your family, but my sister is selfish and a gold digger, watch out for her," Jennifer had said, her words carefully crafted to manipulate and gain favor.
Vincenzo had been utterly indifferent then, his face a mask of impassive emotionlessness. He'd registered her words, filed them away in the recesses of his mind, but hadn't reacted outwardly. He was a master of observation, a silent collector of information.
Now, he stood amidst the chaos of gift-giving, seemingly detached from the frivolous display. He calmly tossed fish seeds into a nearby ornamental pond, the tiny silver flakes shimmering in the sunlight as they scattered across the water's surface. The simple act was oddly soothing amidst the overwhelming extravagance.
"Grandpa, second grandpa, third grandpa, second grandma, third grandma," Vincenzo began, his voice a low, melodic rumble that commanded attention despite its quietness.
"Don't scare her," he continued, his gaze sweeping over the assembled elders.
"We don't know what she's like. It's best not to overwhelm her." His words were delivered with a chilling calm, a subtle reprimand that silenced the room more effectively than any shout could have. The underlying message was clear: their eagerness, while well-intentioned, could be detrimental. He wasn't dismissing their generosity; he was advocating for a measured approach.
The elders, accustomed to Vincenzo's quiet authority and recognizing the wisdom in his words, reluctantly subsided. Nonna Isabella, the matriarch and the most influential figure in the family, nodded slowly, her sharp eyes fixed on Vincenzo.
"Alright fine," she conceded with a sigh.
"We'll gift her the black card that has 250 million as her pocket money," Old Madam Nonna declared, a hint of finality in her voice. The extravagant gift-giving ceased abruptly, replaced by a collective exhale of relieved anticipation.
Vincenzo didn't respond to his grandmother's decision, continuing to scatter the fish seeds with a quiet grace. He seemed almost… distant, his thoughts elsewhere.
The memory from two weeks ago lingered in his mind, a subtle warning flag waving amidst the sea of potential complications. Jennifer's calculated attempt to paint her sister as a gold digger had been transparently manipulative, yet it had planted a seed of doubt in his mind. He was a strategist, a master of anticipating and countering threats, and he wasn't willing to dismiss any possibility out of hand.