Monica was determined. The money would be used to gain influence within the fashion world and to create a brand with real relevance in men's casual wear. She intended to establish three distinct lines: a low-end label, a mid-range brand, and a high-end luxury house. Three separate companies, all built upon the same principle—that quality itself would become the identity of the brand. And for that, they would need the expertise of the greatest brand architects, returning once more to the very roots of prestige.
For that reason, Billy would send a letter to the man who now found himself trapped between uncertainty and pressure, unable to fully understand the business world surrounding him. Domenico De Sole was merely a lawyer who had forced his way into the fashion industry through sheer skill and business instinct.
What truly mattered now was watching the way Monica manipulated everything through whispers and secrets.
--Of course it has to be this way. - Monica commented. - If you don't have the stomach for it, then don't do it, darling. The entertainment world isn't made for the faint-hearted. And honestly, I think you should understand that it's far better to do these things on your own terms, with controlled risks, rather than exploring supposedly safe territory where you have absolutely no control. --
Her tone was pretentious, but with the support of six to twelve women already connected to the fashion industry, it was fair to say that each of them would work tirelessly to build the company from the ground up.
--It sounds a little complicated. - Eva Herzigova whispered calmly. The woman now standing beneath Monica's influence was stunning, with layered blonde hair falling gracefully over her shoulders. She was the Czech jewel who had carved her own place within the Italian fashion world.
--We'll do it together. - Monica told her, her eyes shining brightly. Betting a fortune in exchange for ownership shares was the fundamental rule, and the contracts would be signed within the next two weeks. A social capital of four million euros would begin flowing into the acquisition of small estates dedicated to cultivating the finest leather, the best goat herds, the purest sheep wool, alongside long-term cotton contracts.
--Together? - the woman questioned as she slowly rose from her seat, her expression caught between hesitation and temptation.
--Of course, darling. - Monica whispered, sliding a hand gently across her leg beneath the white tablecloth. Both women were pale as porcelain, and by now most people had already staggered drunkenly back to their homes. Even the finest service had ended; only the small bar remained open, tended by a lone man polishing glasses in silence.
Further away, Billy spoke intensely with a member of the Ferrari family. She possessed sharp instincts within the automotive business and was well aware of Billy's purchases and investments. To her, it almost resembled a man traveling back through time. Their conversations revolved around prestige, legacy, and the arrogance that seemed to overwrite every behavior she observed. Yet now, with massive corporations entering the race and luxury brands like Lamborghini beginning to reshape the market—alongside Aston Martin, Porsche, and McLaren—it was clear that these were companies breaking apart the traditional canon of the automotive world.
--But... -
--You're divorced, sweetheart, from a man who once proposed the exact same thing to you. I remember perfectly how he tried to clip your wings. Now you can bloom again. Together, as friends. - Monica whispered to her.
They had known each other for a very long time. Since 1993, in fact, back when Eva was still conquering runways and magazine covers, she found herself returning to a life that Monica partially idolized.
--I'll join you. I only hope my time in fashion is respected. - Eva whispered softly.
--Darling, come with me. Come to my villa, and we'll discuss everything more calmly there. The villa is enormous, and there are plenty of people working there. - Monica whispered.
She could feel the effect of the whiskey advertisements surrounding her thoughts. Wine never pushed her toward drunkenness, but stronger liquor was different. Her cheeks were flushed now, and her walk lacked the confident strength it usually carried. Without hesitation, she slipped off the shoes that had been tormenting her all evening and smiled softly. The two women then headed quietly toward the exit.
…
--To be honest, I think that by 2003 I'll hold the largest share of the American market. Once I dominate America, all I'll need to do is what's always done in these situations—make the wealthy people of the world desire what I own. - Billy replied calmly.
Something resembling a premonition had reached him. The idea of acquiring another brand was already moving through his mind with the same cunning he always took pride in. To achieve that, he needed a fourth marque. He already had Toyota, Lotus, and Lamborghini within reach, but now he wanted a true luxury brand, one capable of completing every corner of the market he intended to control.
--You're even more ambitious than I expected. I'd like to see where you are in five years. A small wager before we continue down our respective paths. - Gianni Agnelli, the head of Fiat, was beginning to understand this young man who was only months away from investing heavily into the world of Formula One, blending engineering, power, and prestige together while reshaping the youthful vision already admired by veteran businessmen who understood the boy's countless intersections with the automotive industry.
--Let's make the bet. Nothing pushes me to think more clearly than a wager. - Billy commented.
He already envisioned an aggressively calculated marketing strategy, one that revealed the magnificent future awaiting the automobile industry. The idea was straightforward: place his vehicles within reach of the masses while using his video games, his entertainment empire, and the machinery of fame to create a dream people could briefly live through. When audiences watched handsome actors driving those cars beside glamorous models during film shoots, it would become the perfect image of the American dream—subtly planted over the next five years through increasingly aggressive involvement in the sports world.
--A Formula One car. One we can place in our offices. I've heard that's become quite popular in the United States. Those men love bringing their cars into their offices and showing them off to their friends. -
A little doubtful, a little intimidated by what the future might demand of him, Billy silenced his thoughts and offered a firm handshake.
...
Monica waited for Billy while drinking gin beside Eva. Her fingers brushed softly across Eva's leg in absentminded gestures. Eva seemed not to mind.
--You're a little late. - Monica commented as Billy entered with one of those powerful smiles capable of silencing anyone who thought otherwise. Or perhaps it simply made people stay. That was the nature of fame.
Eva straightened herself immediately. This was Monica's boyfriend—the man who cultivated fame with unstoppable force, unforgettable in every sense. The man who seemed capable of succeeding at everything. After Titanic, Billy had become the embodiment of a woman's heartthrob; his charm carried an almost mythical quality. Everything he did seemed amplified by celebrity itself. The sight of him left a powerful impression on Eva, whose mouth suddenly felt dry after the gin. Then Billy noticed Monica's hand resting against her thigh, and something inside Eva warmed unexpectedly.
The chauffeur quietly drove forward, his face obscured behind the dark partition screen, though curiosity remained a man's greatest weakness.
Billy embraced that tension as he approached Monica and noticed the intentions hidden behind her eyes—intentions drifting far beyond convention. She merely bit her lip softly. Something was thrilling to her about turning her bedroom into a stage for performance, desire, and companionship. It brought her pleasure. And as calm slowly faded from him, Billy remembered the years when Los Angeles had seemed like nothing more than a vast nest of romance and temptation.