The Art Of The UnderDog

Chapter 3

"What have I done? Why are you arresting me?" Tyler exclaimed, his voice trembling with fear as his heart sank. His body tensed up, feeling the pressure of being firmly pressed against the glass table by the relentless grip of the officers.

"Shut up!" barked one of the officers, trying to silence Tyler. But he continued to struggle, desperately pleading, "Please, I need to go and save my mother. Please!" His voice turned into a high-pitched screech, echoing through the store. The commotion drew the attention of onlookers who swiftly pulled out their phones, capturing the intense scene while exchanging worried whispers amongst themselves.

As the chaos unfolded, the store's entrance became jammed with the arrival of a woman adorned in an exquisite, perfectly tailored black gown. Her attire exuded elegance and timelessness, accentuating her graceful silhouette. Cashmere scarves artfully draped around her, adding an air of sophistication to her presence.

Accompanied by a retinue of guards, she glided into the store, commanding attention. Unfortunately, Tyler's view was obstructed by his forcibly lowered head, pressed against the glass table. Nevertheless, he caught glimpses of her figure as she drew closer. Her skin had an olive hue, radiant and smooth, defying her age in a manner that made her appear decades younger than her late sixties.

The commotion led the guards to swiftly usher out all the other customers, leaving only the lady, her entourage, the police officers, the jeweler, and Tyler remaining inside the store. The atmosphere became charged with anticipation as the tension escalated.

"Thank you, officers. I believe I can handle it from here," the lady's voice resonated with authority, marked by her unmistakable refined accent that exuded sophistication. The officers nodded in acknowledgment, uncuffing Tyler in compliance with her instructions.

Desperate and on the verge of tears, Tyler implored, "Please, ma'am, don't kill me. I just want to go save my mother. Please! She's all I have left." His hands clasped together, he displayed his vulnerability and desperation, hoping to evoke empathy.

The lady approached Tyler with deliberate, unhurried steps. Face-to-face now, Tyler trembled uncontrollably, unable to meet her gaze, his eyes fixed downward. As if sensing his fear, she gently placed her hand on his right shoulder, her touch surprisingly calm and reassuring. "Are you sure she's all you have?" she posed the question, her voice carrying a hint of ambiguity, leaving room for deeper introspection.

"Yes, ma'am! She is really sick, and I desperately need to be by her side. She's the only family I have left. Please, ma'am," Tyler pleaded, his voice quivering with tears as he dropped to his knees, bowing his head in genuine supplication. The depth of his love for his mother was undeniable, and the mere thought of losing her was a haunting nightmare he never wanted to experience.

"Stand up, Ciccio," the lady calmly uttered, her words cutting through the air. Tyler quickly raised his head in shock, his eyes widening. "Ciccio? How do you know that name?" Utterly dumbfounded, he couldn't fathom how this lady, whom he had just encountered, was aware of the nickname only his parents used for him.

His narrowed eyes sought answers, while the lady before him smiled, a smile tinged with tears. "Who are you?" Tyler asked, his voice steady despite still being on his knees. The lady's smile broadened even more, a bittersweet expression.

"Stand up," she repeated, this time reaching out to pull him up from his kneeling position. Tenderly, she cupped his chin in her hands, peering deeply into his eyes as if trying to penetrate the depths of his soul. A tight embrace followed, enveloping Tyler in warmth and affection.

"Ciccio," she whispered calmly once more, pressing a gentle kiss on his forehead. Tyler, lost in the whirlwind of emotions, scanned his surroundings, his eyes darting around, trying to make sense of the situation.

"Please, who are you?" he inquired, his head jerking slightly. The lady retrieved a handkerchief, gently wiping away the tears that had welled up and cascaded down her cheeks.

"Who I am," she sighed, a wistful smile gracing her lips. She handed her handbag to one of her guards, as Tyler's ears eagerly awaited the revelation she was about to share.

"Let's sit," she invited, settling onto a pristine white couch that adorned the store. Tyler hesitated for a moment, then decided to join her, taking a seat opposite her. With a snap of her fingers, a bottle of water swiftly appeared, placed before her. She quenched her thirst, then handed it back to the guard, who discreetly moved a few steps away.

"I am Guila Damiano, the owner of the renowned Damiano Group of companies," she began, her voice laced with a hint of weariness. "I am your grandmother, Ciccio," she softly uttered after a brief pause, allowing the weight of her words to sink in.

Tyler's eyes widened in shock. He vividly remembered his parents telling him that all his grandparents had passed away. The notion of a random lady claiming to be his grandmother was baffling, causing him to instinctively challenge her revelation.

"No, no, that can't be true. My parents told me that their parents were all dead. There's no way you are my grandmother," he countered, tilting his head vigorously in disapproval. Lady Guila, with a bitter scoff, retorted, "Dead indeed."

"I am your father's mother. Your grandfather, my husband, is dead. Your father was my only son," she revealed, her voice carrying a mix of sorrow and nostalgia. With a poised gesture, she raised her hand, summoning the guard who had been attentively standing by her side. "Phone," she calmly requested. The guard promptly handed it to her, positioning himself beside her with his hands respectfully folded behind him.

"Here," she offered her phone to Tyler, displaying a photograph on the screen. It captured a moment frozen in time, featuring her and his father together. Tyler's eyes narrowed as he studied the image, his eyebrows furrowing in bewilderment.

"But... but..." Tyler struggled to articulate his thoughts, his words stumbling incoherently.

"Your father defied the family's wishes and fell in love with a maid—your mother. Their relationship was forbidden, and marrying her was against our traditions. Despite the obstacles, they eloped, leaving Italy behind, and lived a humble life here in Phoenix. I have spent my entire life searching for them, for you. Unfortunately, they changed their names and hid themselves well. It was only yesterday that I discovered your father's passing, but I remained oblivious to your whereabouts," she explained, her laughter devoid of mirth as she shook her head with a mix of anger and regret.

"So if you claim you didn't know where we were, how did you find me today?" Tyler questioned, his curiosity piqued.

"The ring," she shrugged, as if it held the key to unraveling the mystery.

"The ring? How? I've had that ring for years, but you never found me. How did you manage to locate me today?" Tyler bombarded her with inquiries, seeking to unravel the truth.

"You came to sell it off. That ring is worth five hundred million dollars. It bears the family name inscribed upon it. The jeweler recognized its significance and knew exactly who to contact. Mistaking you for a thief due to your appearance, he reached out to me," she explained, her eyes scanning Tyler from his feet to his face. "Fortunately, I happened to be in Phoenix for a business meeting and had the intention of searching for you." Extending her hand, she gently clasped Tyler's.

"You are my grandson, Ciccio Roberto Damiano, the heir to the Damiano family's vast properties. You are a billionaire. Come back with me to Italy and live the life befitting your true birthright. Embrace the legacy that is rightfully yours. You are a Damiano!" she proclaimed, her voice carrying a mixture of pride and anticipation, urging Tyler to seize the destiny that awaited him.