Chapter I

Introduction

In the luxurious suite of the Ritz-Carlton, Vittorio Serran adjusted his bespoke Italian suit. The deep navy suit, made from a blend of cashmere and silk, fits him perfectly. His reputation as the ultimate negotiator was not just about his skills but also his appearance. Today, he wore a crisp white shirt with mother-of-pearl buttons, a silk tie with almost invisible pattern and leopard loafers from Louboutin. Dressing well was part of his strategy.

Vittorio, a tall and elegant man, stood at six feet three inches (or 1 meter and 90 centimetres should you like). His blue eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief, and his thick, full hair, starting to grey at the temples, only added to his charismatic allure. He exuded an air of mystery that drew people in, yet kept them at arm's length.

He checked his Royal Oak by Audemars Piguet, a gift from a grateful client, and prepared to enter the negotiation room. The stakes were high, but for Vittorio, it was just another day at work. The executives on the other side of the table had no idea what was coming. They only knew his reputation—a man who could turn the tide of any negotiation, no matter how dire the circumstances.

As he walked through the dark hallway, his mind drifted to the countless of deals he had brokered in the past. There was the time he had saved a crumbling tech empire by orchestrating a merger so seamless, it seemed preordained. Or the occasion when he had convinced a hostile board of directors to support a risky but revolutionary business pivot, purely on the strength of his vision and eloquence.

But Vittorio's talents were not solely inherited; they were honed through years of meticulous observation and practice. His mother, a formidable Swiss businesswoman, had built a cybersecurity empire with secret bunkers hidden under the Alps, housing enormous servers out of reach of anyone. Her intellect and strategic mind had been legendary. She taught Vittorio the importance of security and the power of information. He remembered the times she took him to the hidden bunkers, explaining the intricacies of cybersecurity and the value of keeping secrets. Her influence made him appreciate the power of subtlety and precision.

His father, an Italian entrepreneur, had been a different kind of teacher. He ran a successful consulting firm that specialized in teaching the world's most powerful people how to speak, communicate, and get what they wanted. Vittorio remembered watching his father coach CEOs, politicians, and royalty, transforming their communication skills with ease. From him, Vittorio inherited a gift for persuasion, an impeccable sense of style, and the belief that presentation could be just as crucial as content.

These lessons had stayed with him, shaping him into the man he was today. As he reached the ornate double doors of the negotiation room, he paused for a moment, taking a deep breath. The world outside saw only the polished surface, the impeccable attire, and the confident smile. Inside, he was a master strategist, a conjurer of possibilities, ready to weave another spell of success.

With a slight adjustment of his tie, Vittorio pushed open the doors and stepped into the room, where the board members of SilverTech Corporation awaited. They were nervous, fidgeting in their seats, their faces masks of uncertainty. Vittorio's entrance was met with a mixture of hope and skepticism.

"Shall we begin?" he said smoothly, his voice a perfect blend of authority and charm. The room fell silent, all eyes on him. Vittorio took his seat at the head of the table, his presence immediately commanding the room. His dark, sharp eyes scanned the faces before him, noting the nervous fidgets and averted gazes. He adjusted his tie and leaned forward, exuding confidence.

The negotiation was about to begin, and Vittorio Serran was ready to turn the impossible into reality once again.

The Negotiation

The room was tense, filled with the board members of SilverTech Corporation. Vittorio entered, immediately commanding attention. He offered a polite smile, with a hint of sarcasm, as if he already knew how this meeting would end.

"Shall we begin?" he said smoothly, taking his seat. His dark, sharp eyes scanned the room, noting the nervous fidgets and averted gazes. He adjusted his tie and leaned forward, exuding confidence.

"Mr. Serran, we've heard a lot about you," began the CEO, his voice wavering slightly. "Your reputation precedes you."

Vittorio nodded, a slight smirk on his lips. "Thank you. Let's discuss how we can make this a win-win situation for all involved."

The CFO, a stern woman with sharp glasses, leaned in. "We’re not here to waste time with pleasantries. Our position is clear. We need this merger to go through without losing our current shareholders’ confidence."

Vittorio raised an eyebrow. "And you believe that by bulldozing your way through, you’ll maintain that confidence? Interesting approach, but might I suggest a more… subtle method?"

He leaned back, letting his words hang in the air. The CEO exchanged glances with the CFO, uncertainty flickering in their eyes.

"What do you propose, Mr. Serran?" the CEO asked cautiously.

Vittorio smiled, adjusting his leopard loafers. "First, we need to acknowledge the elephant in the room. Your company is bleeding money. The shareholders know it, you know it, and I know it. Pretending otherwise is a waste of everyone's time."

The room went silent. Vittorio continued, his tone measured. "The key here is transparency. We need to present a plan that not only stops the bleeding but also shows a clear path to profitability. And that plan must be delivered with confidence and clarity."

The CFO scoffed. "Easier said than done. We've tried everything."

Vittorio chuckled. "Clearly not everything, or we wouldn't be having this conversation. Let's start with restructuring. Your current model is outdated. We need to trim the fat—non-essential divisions that are draining resources. We keep the core strong and lean."

"That will cause a lot of upheaval," the CEO interjected. "How do we sell that to the shareholders?"

Vittorio leaned forward, eyes glinting with intensity. "By being honest. We present the hard truths but also the solutions. We show them the future, not the past. And we do it with style. A touch of drama, if you will."

The CFO frowned. "Drama?"

Vittorio grinned. "Indeed. People don't just want facts; they want a story. We give them a story of resurgence, of rising from the ashes. And we dress it up nicely, much like this fine suit I'm wearing. Presentation matters."

The CEO nodded slowly. "And you're confident you can deliver this… story?"

Vittorio stood up, smoothing down his jacket. "Confidence is my middle name. But remember, this isn't just about me. This is about us, working together to create a narrative that everyone can believe in."

There was a moment of silence before the CEO extended his hand. "Alright, Mr. Serran. Let's see what you can do."

Vittorio shook his hand firmly. "It's what I do."

The victory

The next day, the shareholders’ meeting had a clear winner. The room was filled with tension, but it didn't last long. The CEO and CFO, now fully confident in their strategy, easily persuaded the shareholders with the plan that Vittorio had laid out for them the day before. The objections that had once seemed insurmountable melted away under the weight of his carefully crafted proposals. By the time the final vote was cast, the outcome was undeniable: SilverTech’s future was secure.

The shareholders, previously on edge and doubtful, now found themselves nodding in agreement, their concerns alleviated. Vittorio had armed the board with exactly what they needed—not just a plan, but the confidence to present it as if it had been theirs all along. That was part of his brilliance: making people believe they had solved their own problems.

After the meeting, Vittorio slipped quietly out of the building, as he always did, avoiding the celebratory back-patting and handshakes that would inevitably follow. His job was done, and he preferred to leave without fanfare.

As the door clicked shut behind him, Vittorio exhaled slightly, allowing the faintest hint of satisfaction to cross his otherwise composed demeanor. The negotiation had been delicate—balancing the need for brutal honesty about the company’s situation with the assurance that his plan would save them. But Vittorio thrived in such moments.

He stepped into the corridor, the echo of his footsteps trailing behind him. The distant murmur of conversations from inside the boardroom slowly faded as the door sealed the meeting. He had done what he did best: guide a corporation away from the brink of disaster with nothing more than his words, strategy, and the unmistakable influence of his appearance.

Adjusting his jacket, Vittorio’s thoughts briefly shifted back to the negotiation table. It had been a textbook operation—every move planned in advance, every argument countered before it even left the other side’s lips. But that was always how it went with him.

His work, however, was never just about the words spoken in a room. It was about how he carried himself, the calculated presentation he maintained—his appearance, as always, playing an essential role. Vittorio understood better than anyone that confidence, trust, and power weren’t only about logic or persuasion. How you presented yourself mattered just as much. His suit wasn’t just fabric; it was a shield, a weapon, and a statement. It was part of the unspoken dialogue in every negotiation.

As he descended the stairs of the building, the city greeted him with the glow of twilight. The corporate skyscrapers stood like silent giants, indifferent to the human drama playing out within their glass walls. Vittorio’s reflection in one of the windows mirrored his thoughts—sharp, composed, and undeniably present.

This wasn’t just another victory. Every success added another layer to his reputation. The impossible had been achieved again, but for Vittorio, that was becoming routine. The real thrill came in the subtle dance—the delicate give and take of power, influence, and perception.

He allowed himself a moment to breathe, his posture relaxing ever so slightly as he reached the car waiting at the curb. Before stepping in, his thoughts drifted—first to his parents and then to the path that had brought him here. His mother, the genius behind a cybersecurity empire, had taught him the value of planning and protecting assets. His father, the charismatic entrepreneur, had instilled in him the understanding that how you present yourself can be just as crucial as the deal itself. Together, they had shaped Vittorio into a man capable of wielding both strategy and charm with equal proficiency.

With a quiet smile, Vittorio settled into the backseat of the sleek black sedan. The driver wordlessly pulled away from the curb, and the city streets blurred past. With a final glance at the shimmering skyline, Vittorio turned and walked back to his penthouse suite.