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From the quarter-finals onward, every single match ended exactly as he had bet.
Germany vs USA — he bet Germany. Result: 1-0.
England vs Brazil — he bet Brazil. Result: 2-1.
Korea vs Spain — he bet Korea. Result: Korea won 5-3 on penalties.
Every outcome matched his "prediction" perfectly.
During those ten days, a few fans recognized him at the stadiums, but he used the Force to make them think they were mistaken.
The "I must have seen wrong" moments happened so often it became routine.
By the time the final whistle blew on the championship match — Brazil beating Germany 2-0, with Ronaldo (the fat one, not the skinny one) scoring eight goals to win the Golden Boot — the knot in Raphael's chest finally loosened.
---
July 3rd, Raphael flew back to Los Angeles.
When he landed, Philip was waiting at the airport.
Both of them looked calm on the surface, but their eyes were full of barely-contained excitement.
In the car, Philip handed him a folder.
Raphael opened it.
First page: total profit.
$1.38 billion.
Raphael stared at the number and felt like he could finally start spending without thinking twice.
Philip spoke from the driver's seat.
"One thousand accounts. The biggest winner was three million. The smallest was eight hundred thousand. Average per account around one point three million."
He paused.
"No gambling tax in the UK, so the full amount is clean. And because we spread the bets, we avoided the 24% withholding tax. In other words, at least until next April, all that money can sit safely in the company account."
Raphael looked up.
"All of it went into the company?"
"Yes. Raphael Lee Productions."
Philip grinned. "Right now that company is worth more than you are as a person."
Raphael stared at the number. He remembered the twenty-one million tax bill that had hurt him a few months ago.
Now that amount wasn't even pocket change.
"What about Jerry?" he asked.
Philip shrugged.
"He asked once. I told him not to worry. He probably figured some of it out, but he didn't push."
Raphael nodded.
"Will he talk?"
Philip thought for a second.
"Sooner or later. No one at Goldman keeps secrets forever. But it doesn't matter. The money's already yours. If the betting companies want to cause trouble, I'll just have the media ask the IRS why American citizens still need to pay taxes legally."
Raphael leaned back and looked out the window at the passing scenery. A deep, satisfying wave of pleasure rolled through him.
$1.38 billion.
Ten figures.
"There's one more thing," Raphael said.
Philip glanced at him.
"What?"
"Buy Marvel."
Philip raised an eyebrow.
"Marvel? The comic book company?"
"Yeah."
"When?"
"As soon as possible. Preferably within three months."
Philip didn't argue. He treated it like buying his little brother an expensive toy.
Two days later, an invitation arrived at Philip's office.
Sender: Goldman Sachs.
Recipient: Raphael Lee.
Philip looked at the gold-embossed card, expression serious.
He picked up the phone and called Raphael.
"Come over."
An hour later, Raphael pushed open the office door.
Philip handed him the invitation.
Raphael read it.
"New York Art & Culture Summit?"
"Christie's private auction?"
"Exclusive gallery tours?"
Signed: Henry M. Paulson, Chairman and CEO of Goldman Sachs.
Raphael looked up.
"They know?"
Philip nodded.
"Jerry let it slip. Not on purpose, but it's spreading inside Goldman. Paulson asked personally."
Raphael stared at the invitation, brow slightly furrowed.
"What do you think?"
Philip shrugged.
"You can say no. The money's already in the account. They can't prove anything."
Raphael thought for a moment.
"No. I'll go."
Philip blinked.
"You sure?"
"I'm sure."
Raphael folded the invitation. "They extended the ladder. If I don't climb it, I look guilty."
Philip nodded.
"Fair enough. Just be careful. Call me if anything happens."
---
Three days later, Raphael flew to New York.
By the time the plane landed, it was already eight p.m.
He stepped out of the terminal and was about to call Philip when his phone rang first.
Caller ID: Lima.
Raphael answered.
"Bad boy."
Her voice was playful. "Heard you're in New York?"
Raphael paused.
"How did you know?"
"Guessed."
Lima laughed. "There's a business event at Goldman. I heard you were invited too."
Raphael chuckled.
"So?"
"So…" Lima paused, her smile clear in her voice. "Tonight you're not going anywhere. Come to the apartment in the Upper East Side."
Raphael raised an eyebrow.
"Why?"
"Because—"
Lima laughed again. "Because me and Alessandra want to show you what 'long time no see' really means."
Raphael laughed softly.
"Fine. Wait for me."
"We will."
The call ended.
Raphael looked at his phone and couldn't help smiling.
These women…
He put the phone away and flagged a cab.
"Upper East Side."
Forty minutes later, Raphael stood outside the familiar apartment door.
It was unlocked. He pushed it open.
The living room was lit with soft, warm lights. Three women were sitting on the sofa.
Lima.
Alessandra.
And one more he recognized immediately — a young girl with golden hair, blue eyes, and striking, regal features.
When they saw him, Lima stood up.
"You're here?"
Raphael looked at her, then at the "new" girl.
"Who's this?"
Alessandra stood and put a hand on the girl's shoulder.
"Karolina Kurkova. From the Czech Republic. Just signed with Victoria's Secret this year."
The girl stood up, a little nervous, and offered her hand.
"Hi… Raphael Lee. I'm Karolina. You can call me KK."
Raphael shook her hand.
"Nice to meet you."
Lima walked over and slipped her arm through his.
"KK is a friend. When she heard we were coming to see you, she insisted on tagging along."
Alessandra added from the side.
"We couldn't stop her."
Raphael looked at the three of them and suddenly understood everything.
He couldn't help laughing.
"You two are really…"
Lima rose onto her toes and kissed his cheek.
"No more talking. Tonight you're ours."
---
The next morning, sunlight poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows.
Raphael lay in bed, Lima on his left, Alessandra on his right.
KK was already gone. She had slipped out sometime earlier.
He opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling.
He didn't overthink what happened last night.
But the look on KK's face when she left — like she'd seen a ghost — was something he'd remember for a while.
Lima rolled over and rested her head on his shoulder.
"Awake?"
Raphael hummed.
"Where's KK?"
"She left."
Lima yawned. "Early this morning. Said she needed to go home and sleep."
Alessandra, still half-asleep, murmured from the other side.
"Is she okay?"
Lima laughed softly.
"I don't know if she's okay, but when she walked out her legs were shaking. She almost fell a few times."
Raphael said nothing.
Alessandra was now fully awake. She scooted closer.
"Bad boy, you really are something."
Raphael looked at both of them.
"What exactly do you two want?"
Lima and Alessandra exchanged a glance, then smiled at the same time.
"Nothing."
Lima said, "We just wanted to make sure you know — no matter who you're with, we're not going anywhere."
Alessandra nodded.
"Exactly. That's all."
Raphael looked at their faces and couldn't help smiling.
"Alright. Message received."
---
At ten a.m., Raphael took the two women shopping.
Fifth Avenue was crowded, but he didn't care.
Let the paparazzi take pictures. Let them write whatever they wanted. He couldn't be bothered.
With $1.38 billion in the bank, Raphael felt like the whole world was his to play with.
A little scandal? Just a warm-up gift for his future fans.
Lima and Alessandra walked on either side of him, each holding one of his arms. The three of them strolled openly down the street, completely ignoring the stares.
When they passed Tiffany, Raphael stopped.
"Want to go in?"
Lima shook her head.
"No."
"Why not?"
"We don't need it."
Lima looked at him. "We didn't come for that."
Alessandra nodded from the other side.
"Right. Don't think you can buy us off with jewelry."
Raphael smiled helplessly.
"Then what do you want?"
The two women looked at each other, then pointed at the men's store next door.
"Clothes for you."
Raphael blinked.
"For me?"
"Yes."
Lima dragged him toward the door. "Besides CK jeans, you need a few proper outfits."
Alessandra followed.
"We pick. You wear."
Raphael was pulled inside, laughing and shaking his head.
For the next hour, the two women treated him like a mannequin, changing him from head to toe.
Suits, shirts, shoes, ties, cufflinks, watches — every piece was carefully chosen. He had to try on each one for them.
When the bill came, Raphael glanced at it.
Ninety-eight thousand dollars.
He looked up at them.
"You two—"
Lima cut him off.
"Don't say anything. We're paying."
Alessandra smiled beside her.
"This is our gift to you. No refusing."
Raphael looked at them and suddenly didn't know what to say.
Ninety-eight thousand dollars was pocket change to him now.
But for Lima and Alessandra, who weren't global superstars yet, that was serious money they had saved up.
"Fine. I'll take it."
Raphael finally accepted.
The two women smiled brightly and paid the bill.
As they left the store, Raphael walked between them, carrying the shopping bags, feeling a strange warmth in his chest.
These women really were something else.