Chapter 216: Inzaghi! Scumbag!

Suker's eyes darted around, but because he was wearing sunglasses, Kaka didn't notice.

"Our next match is against Sampdoria. They've been doing well these past two rounds," Kaka said.

Suker's gaze was fixed on a beautiful woman in a mini skirt, her long, shapely legs on full display.

"Mhm!" he responded absently.

"This season, we're still competing on three fronts, but our squad depth is solid," Kaka continued.

Suker's head subtly turned as he followed the woman's movements.

"Stop staring! I'm talking to you!" Kaka said, annoyed.

Suker turned back. "It's not like it's the 'Seven Sisters' era of Serie A anymore, what's there to be afraid of?"

"It's not about fear, it just feels…"

"Eh? Isn't that Filippo?" Suker suddenly pointed toward the café entrance.

Kaka looked over.

Sure enough, Inzaghi had just walked in with a stunning woman and was finding a seat.

Dressed in gray trousers and a crisp white shirt with the collar open, long hair and sunglasses, Inzaghi looked effortlessly cool.

The woman beside him had darker skin—likely a mixed-race beauty.

Kaka frowned. "I thought Filippo's girlfriend was Desca, the Miss Italy? She's white!"

Suker gestured toward a spot behind them.

Sure enough, sitting there was a tall, model-like woman.

Kaka turned to look—it was indeed Desca, currently a hot celebrity. They both recognized her.

"This is…" Kaka murmured in disbelief.

"Heh heh!" Suker smirked mischievously.

Kaka immediately turned to him. "What are you planning?"

Suker blinked. "Let's enjoy the show."

With that, he got up and walked over to Desca.

"Hi there, gorgeous!"

Desca's single-lidded eyes narrowed slightly in a deadpan expression. She gave Suker a once-over.

"Sorry, I'm not interested in men shorter than me."

Feigning disappointment, Suker nodded and gestured toward their table. "Alright, but if you change your mind, you know where to find me."

Desca instinctively turned to look—and instantly her eyes widened.

There was her boyfriend, Filippo Inzaghi, laughing and chatting with another woman.

"Bastard!"

Desca seethed, then stood up and stormed over, heels clacking furiously.

Suker quickly returned to his table, lowering his head—and Kaka's too.

"Keep your head down!"

The two of them watched the drama unfold.

Inzaghi, who had been cool and relaxed a moment ago, was now sweating and trying desperately to explain himself.

Desca interrogated him fiercely, while the other woman glared.

Trapped between two furious women, Inzaghi looked completely flustered.

"She's gonna throw the water," Suker whispered eagerly.

Sure enough, Desca suddenly tossed her water right into Inzaghi's face.

She shouted something, turned, and walked away.

The other woman also gracefully refilled her glass—then splashed it in Inzaghi's face as well.

Suker murmured, "This is what scumbags get."

Kaka winced. Poor Filippo.

But also… how thrilling!

Inzaghi was drenched, and laughter echoed around them.

Even his thick skin couldn't save him from the embarrassment.

Suker and Kaka, having seen enough, sneaked out amid the chaos.

Once they got back to the car, they both burst out laughing.

"HAHAHAHA! Filippo looked like a total mess!"

"The way he was scrambling to explain—so funny!"

"Serves a scumbag right!"

"You're just mad he never introduced you to any girls."

"No way! I was avenging all the pure-hearted women out there!"

Knock knock!

Someone tapped on the window.

They turned.

It was Inzaghi—face pressed to the glass like a ghost, glaring at them.

——

At a bar by Milan's canal.

Inzaghi sat with legs crossed, looking at Suker and Kaka.

"I knew those two silhouettes looked familiar. I followed you here to make sure. Now fess up—who did it?"

Kaka immediately pointed at Suker, not even hesitating to throw him under the bus.

Suker stammered, "I-I was just trying to flirt. I didn't know she was Desca!"

Then added, "You didn't include me in your plans!"

Inzaghi shook his head and waved it off. "Forget it. I was going to break up with her anyway."

Suker and Kaka were speechless.

This guy was really chill.

Inzaghi used to be the romantic type, but after his first breakup, he seemed to have flipped a switch and become a full-fledged playboy.

"What are you two doing here anyway?" he asked.

"Just exploring. I haven't seen much of Milan," Suker replied.

Inzaghi nodded. "You should. How are you liking it?"

"Great sights, but the old city's dirty," Suk said bluntly.

"Yeah, it's not safe at night either. Avoid that area," Inzaghi warned.

They both nodded.

Inzaghi checked the time. "I've got twenty minutes left with you guys."

"You got something later?" Suker asked.

"A date," Inzaghi replied.

Suker shook his head in awe. The guy really knew how to manage time—didn't waste a second.

"Wanna go anywhere else? I can recommend some good spots," Inzaghi offered.

Suker declined.

They knew Inzaghi's usual haunts—bars, clubs, hotels. Not exactly cultural.

——

Later that evening, they said goodbye and headed back to the villa.

"Home sweet home!" Kaka threw himself on the sofa, looking blissful.

He was a bit of a homebody—preferred relaxing indoors on off days.

Suker stayed at Kaka's place for a while before returning to his own villa.

As he arrived, his agent Zoranchi happened to be at the door.

"Long time no see!" Suker waved.

Zoranchi was dragging a suitcase from a taxi. He glanced at the paparazzi car nearby and chuckled. "Looks like the media's really tracking you now."

Suker shrugged.

Inside the villa:

"Want something to drink?" Suker asked.

"Ice water, please."

Suker brought it over.

Zoranchi slumped onto the couch, exhausted. "The endorsement deal's done!"

"Great work!" Suker smiled.

"'Great work' doesn't even begin to cover it," Zoranchi muttered. "Took me three months and I lost count of the flights to Germany. But it's worth it."

"Adidas agreed to our terms: a five-year deal, five million euros per year. The only condition—they get first renewal rights at equal price when the deal expires."

Suker nodded. "Fair enough."

Zoranchi continued, "Now that your sportswear deal's done, I'm focusing on luxury brands next."

Milan, after all, was a fashion capital.

Thanks to his recent performances, several brands were already eyeing Suk.

"I'll be staying in Milan for a while. Let me know if you need anything."

Suker nodded again. "How's Luka?"

"He's doing well. Getting lots of playtime from Ferguson. Even notched an assist on his debut."

Suker grinned. "He's really talented."

Zoranchi looked at Suk. "Not as much as you. You're becoming Europe's next big star. Keep this pace up, and your future is golden."

"Oh, by the way—I'm thinking of signing Rakitic. What do you think?"

"That kid?" Suker thought for a moment. "Setting his attitude aside, he's got skills."

"Exactly my thoughts," Zoranchi said.

"Dinamo Zagreb didn't make the Champions League this season."

Suker sighed. "They hit Man United in the third round. Not much they could do."

Indeed, in the third qualifying round, Zagreb lost to United 5–2 on aggregate.

A bit of revenge from last season.

Though Modric stood out in that game—dominating midfield and even assisting Rooney.

Still, Zagreb missed out on the Champions League again.

"I'm done talking—I'm exhausted," Zoranchi said, lugging his suitcase upstairs to sleep.

Suker sat in the living room for a while before heading to bed.

——

Next day: training.

As Suker entered the locker room, something felt off.

Gattuso, Nesta, and the others were all giving him weird looks.

Then Inzaghi walked in, and the room went silent.

"What's going on?" Suker asked, puzzled.

Inzaghi shrugged.

Then Maldini entered—holding a newspaper.

"What's this all about, you two?" he asked.

Suker and Inzaghi looked down.

The front page of Milan Evening News showed three people: Inzaghi on one side, Suker on the other, Desca in the center.

Big headline:

"Love Triangle? Inzaghi and Suker Fight Over Desca?"

Suker was speechless.

Inzaghi just shrugged. "Big deal."

He patted Suki's shoulder. "Nothing between us. Some kid wanted to prank me but forgot he had paparazzi on his tail."

Suker: "…"

Inzaghi smirked. "Want me to give you Desca's number?"

Suker: "…"