Trigger warning!: This chapter features a scene of sexual harassment reader discretion is advised.

Ercole Visconti had always known he was a winner. Ever since those summers when he beat everyone in the Portorosso Cup countless times, seven to be exact, who was keeping the count? Oh right! Him!

He always knew that he was destined for great things, to always be above others. That's why it was no surprise that he decided to enlist in the army; he spent years and years rising through the ranks until his big break came.

There were rumors of some creatures that haunted the waters near Isola del Mare. The United States government wanted to capture them for research. But they did not want to transport them to their country, fearing they would not survive the trip. So they rehabilitated an old laboratory of the fifties and prepared it for the arrival of the 'guests.'

The stakes were high, so they called in their best man, him, to find and capture these things, and he was fortunate that not only did they find them, but the animals were stupid enough to come near the boat. Catching them was easy, but bringing them to the lab was the problem. Those things defended themselves, especially the purple one; they cried and screamed throughout the trip, scratching or hitting the glass with their tails. Ercole came to hate every sound those two made, and he couldn't wait for the moment to get rid of them.

And to make matters worse, he wouldn't see the rest of his money until the experiments were finished, and the quickest way to do it was to kill those two. He just wanted to cash his check and get out of there as fast as possible, start over in some other part of Italy. Or maybe in another country. The best thing was that he convinced the general of his proposal, which meant an advance on his final salary; he would receive the rest when the organs of those things were in tubes.

In the meantime, he would give himself a gift.

So on Monday night after work, he went to a car dealership. The first thing he did was go through automatic glass doors, behind which was an infinity of cars on display, placed on round-shaped platforms that rotated. The walls and the floor were white, and the ceiling lights were yellow; several employees were dressed in black suits showing off the vehicles.

Without waiting for any of them, Ercole began to check the cars, hoping to find one of his liking. When he examined an ugly green one, a similar tone to that horrible monster, a worker approached him.

"Good evening, gentleman. Were you looking for something in particular?"

"Not really, just watching," Ercole answered, puffing out his chest slightly, trying to appear more imposing.

"And that's perfect, sir, because when I see you. I see the man of tomorrow, and the man of tomorrow can't have just any car; it must enhance his person."

Ercole smiled, that man did know what he was talking about, and the salesman extended his arm to the front, showing a shiny bright red vehicle.

"And I think I have what you need."

They both went to the car, and when Ercole saw it made him feel like he was meeting an old friend, that shade of red was the same as his childhood Vespa.

"Maserati 3500 GT, one of the best cars the country has produced, in perfect condition," the salesman bragged as he opened the driver's door for him, "try it yourself."

Ercole got in and put both hands on the wheel, immediately feeling powerful and in control, and that was one of the things he enjoyed the most.

"You know something, sir. When I see you, I see a champion, and this car was created specifically for the best. I can see it from here."

Ercole smiled; yeah, what the salesman was telling him was true. That car had been designed specifically for him, and he was going to take it home.

Ciunga ciunga ciù

Ciunga ciunga ciù

La la la la la

Ciunga ciunga ciù

Ciunga ciunga ciù

La la la la la

Andavo a cento all'ora

Per trovar la bimba mia

Ye ye ye ye

Ye ye ye ye

Andavo a cento all'ora

Per cantar la serenata

Blen blen blen blen

Blen blen blen blen

Ercole turned up the volume to the max as he rode to work, the window pane down. So the air was hitting his face, giving him a feeling of freedom and confidence.

E non vedevo l'ora

Di baciar la bocca sua

Ye ye ye ye

Ye ye ye ye

Ma si bruciò il motore

Nel bel mezzo della via

Blen blen blen blen

Blen blen blen blen

A car passed by him and honked at him. Ercole turned to look at it; it was a convertible, with several girls in the back and two boys in the front. The co-pilot gave him both thumbs up while the girls laughed and blew kisses before passing him and continuing down the road.

Ercole smiled and leaned one arm over the edge of the seat, driving with one hand. He was a star indeed.

Amore aspettami

Corro a piedi da te

Son cento chilometri

Che io faccio per te

Andavo a cento all'ora

Per trovar la bimba mia

Ye ye ye ye

Ye ye ye ye

Andavo a cento all'ora

Per cantar la serenata

Blen blen blen blen

Blen blen blen blen

Giulia was walking towards the door when she heard the song; she turned around and saw Ercole go by at full speed. There were some employees on the way; they had to hurry up to avoid being crushed by Ercole, who went to the underground parking lot.

Giulia made a face and slung the bag over her shoulder again.

"What an idiot," she thought before continuing to the entrance.

Andavo a cento all'ora

Per trovar la bimba mia

Ye ye ye ye

Ye ye ye ye

Andavo a cento all'ora

Per cantar la serenata

Blen blen blen blen

Blen blen blen blen

Ciccio was waiting by the gate when he heard the car's engine. Ercole came puffing up smoke and turned around so he could park right in front of the loading dock. The vehicle lifted slightly before lurching back to the ground.

"Excellent," Ercole thought as he climbed down.

Ciccio had covered his face with both arms, believing that the car would crush him; he slowly lowered them, checking that the carriage had not run him over.

Ercole came down, and Ciccio approached him.

"That's a great car, Ercole," he told him.

"I know, Ciccio," he replied as he tossed his keys. Ciccio barely catches them in the air, "park it in my spot."

After that, he put on his sunglasses and went inside.

Ciunga ciunga ciù

Ciunga ciunga ciù

La la la la la

Eh ciunga ciunga ciù

Ciunga ciunga ciù

La la la la la

Bellucci, his secretary, poured him a glass of water and returned to the waiting room. While Ercole stared at the televisions behind his desk. He was the king of that place; nothing happened there without him finding out. He was in his kingdom, and even so, a part of him felt good knowing that he would soon leave that place.

It was true that he would miss the power and control that place gave him. But it also made him feel claustrophobic, in addition to reminding him of those damn beasts from the E-3 laboratory. Every time he passed through the corridors, he could not forget when that monster ripped off his fingers. The humiliation felt, of course. He was able to get even with them sometime later, but that didn't clean the stain of shame. Oh no, those things had made him look ridiculous with everyone there. And no matter how many electric shocks he gave them, they could never make up for it.

Although it helped to torture them.

But anyway, he couldn't wait to leave that place and start from scratch, although... he still needed one thing. And that is that to be a true champion, he needed a girlfriend who met his standards, or well, who approached. Since a woman couldn't measure up to him, he would have to settle for one that at least looked like it.

And he knew who the perfect candidate was.

In camera eighteen, Giulia was seen mopping the floor of a corridor. Ercole turned his head slightly to the side; little Spewlia. He had always wondered if her smell was due to working in her father's fish shop; or if her PH was very high. As it were, her aroma was one not to envy with its fish essence, although…

Ignoring the smell, Giulia wasn't ugly. Her bright red hair was unique since there wasn't another redhead in town. And Ercole had to admit that he had a weakness for the color. That and that the girl also had a good figure; she was an adept swimmer, and her years of practice showed it, plus he liked her tan skin tone.

And she should be good in bed.

So Ercole turned to see the glass on his desk, and without thinking twice, he threw it, spilling all the water on the floor. Bellucci realized the incident, got up from her seat, and opened the door that separated their offices.

"Mr. Ercole," she said worriedly, "is everything alright?"

"Bellucci, could you call Miss Marcovaldo to clean up this accident?"

...

Giulia passed quickly and began to clean the floor with a rag, then she would squeeze it into the bucket she brought and repeat the whole process again. Ercole was standing there watching her, but she avoided his gaze. She hated having him around, the monster that had tortured Luca and Alberto mercilessly. All Giulia wanted was to spit in his face and step on his foot, but not yet. She couldn't commit it before the assault; they could fire her, making the escape impossible. She had to be strong and endure a little more.

For Luca and Alberto.

Her hands twirled the cloth as the dirty water fell into the bucket. Giulia prepared to repeat the procedure when Ercole's voice interrupted her.

"You know? I've always wondered why you stink so much. Is it your dad's fish? Or is it your armpits?"

Giulia didn't answer. She thought that maybe he would order her something else. But no, it was just another of his insults, but she wouldn't fall. She would rush to finish her task and get out of there.

"And despite that, you're hot," Ercole crouched next to her, and Giulia stopped. What was happening? What was he up to? "I don't mind the smell, Giulia."

He touched her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, Giulia looked at her limb, and her eyes widened, maybe…? Oh no, it couldn't be.

"As long as back here is good," he said.

And before Giulia could react, Ercole put a hand on her bottom and squeezed it; Giulia yelled, standing up, taking the rag and the bucket with her. She backed away without taking her eyes off that pig until she hit the wall. Ercole didn't look sorry; he only had the same arrogant face.

"Oh, come on, Giulia, don't act like that. When will you ever have the chance for someone to fuck you again?"

Giulia felt her heart beating like a locomotive. How dare that idiot to… to…? She tightened her grip on the bucket; she was gonna shower that bastard in the garbage because that's what he was. She prepared to throw it at him but stopped herself.

"If you do it, it will be a safe firing, and the whole plan will go to hell, and Luca and Alberto will be for him." but her hands did not want to let go of the bucket. She desires to throw it at him. "Don't let him win, Giulia. He thinks he's in control but doesn't know what's coming for him. I know it hurts, but don't do it. Get out of here, get out of here!"

She closed her eyes as a few drops flew out. She put the cloth in one of her pockets, opened the door, and ran out of there, occasionally looking over her shoulder; to check that Ercole wasn't following her.

The bastard had stayed in his office, watching her walk away. She went downstairs fast, and then she started running.

Ercole just let out a mocking sigh.

"Too bad, the hottest are always the craziest."

...

Giulia went to the bathroom; after checking that she was alone, she put the bucket on the floor and looked at herself in the mirror.

"He... he ... touch..." unable to contain it any longer, she let out a scream that came from the depths of her being. Turned around and kicked the door of a cubicle, opening it, then repeatedly banged on the wall, imagining that it was Ercole's face.

"How dare that idiot touch me?! How does he think that he can treat me like this? As if I was just a toy…?"

With another scream, she hit the wall but stopped when she realized she was only hurting herself.

"Take it easy; breathe in and out," she told herself.

She did as her head told her, then slowly slid to the floor, where she sat while her heart returned to its normal rhythm. She couldn't collapse like that; she had to get over it. She couldn't let him win, especially now that she was about to strike when it would hurt him the most.

"Laugh while you can, asshole, because I'll have the last laugh."