The Crazy Journey to Closing My First Big Deal
Summer of 2017 was the highlight of my real estate career. And nothing, I mean nothing, can top the experience of closing my first biggest deal ever. It all started when the Embassy of Kuwait called me up, knowing I spoke Arabic and had a track record of understanding what their diplomats needed. But this time? This time it wasn’t just a diplomat—it was a prince. A young Kuwaiti prince who had wealth most of us can’t even wrap our heads around.
When they told me they needed help finding a place for the prince, my adrenaline kicked in. I mean, a prince? A PRINCE? And his budget? €6,000 a month! The embassy wanted a four-bedroom villa with a pool, a massive living room to host his friends and all the diplomats who’d surely be flying in and out to visit. Easy, right?
Not so fast.
I called every luxury property owner in my database. And when I say every, I mean I even knocked on doors. I hustled hard, piecing together a list of hot properties and villas across Malta. The day came for the viewings, and the embassy sent a private limo to pick me up. Yes, a limo. I sat there feeling like some high-flying CEO about to close a massive deal.
But then reality hit.
Property after property, villa after villa, the prince’s face stayed the same: neutral. The whole time, I’m thinking, What do you want? A freaking castle? His poker face didn’t budge, and I started to feel the pressure.
After a string of disappointing showings, I realized something: the man wanted space, but he also wanted style. Enter the high-end developments at Tigné Point, Portomaso, and Fort Cambridge. Breathtaking views, state-of-the-art finishes, and luxury to match his standards. Finally, I saw a spark—a tiny one, but hey, I’ll take what I can get.
I knew I was close.
Back to the phones, calling every luxury property owner in Malta to find the perfect place. I’ve probably called about 130 owners at this point, but nothing was just right. Then, I found it: a seafront apartment in Sliema with four bedrooms, a massive living room, and a panoramic sea view that could knock you off your feet. I didn’t send him pictures. No way. I wanted this to be the moment. I just called him and said, “I’m showing you this one in person. Trust me, you’ll love it.”
We met near the Cat Statue in Sliema, and excitement bubbled up inside me. I kept my cool though—professionalism, right? We got into the lift, and I could feel the tension. As soon as we stepped into the apartment, BAM! That sea view hit us like a wave. I glanced at him, and—finally—the man was smiling. He’s smiling!
The moment was here.
Then he asked the big question: “How much is the rent?” Now, the real price was €3,300 a month, but I knew if I said that, he’d think it was too cheap and tell me to keep looking. So, without missing a beat, I said, “€4,500.” The prince smiled wider. The owner, on the other hand, looked like he had just been hit by a bus. His jaw dropped, and I had to metaphorically pick it up for him. But hey, I had a strategy.
One hour later, the embassy called to say they were interested, and we scheduled a meeting for Friday. Now, let me paint the picture for you: it was the hottest day of the year. Every other meeting with the prince, I had dressed in formal business attire—long pants, short sleeves, the whole deal. But for some reason, on this fateful day, I decided to wear shorts. And guess who else showed up in shorts? The owner!
We arrived at the embassy, where everyone was dressed to the nines in their traditional Middle Eastern robes, looking regal and elegant. And there we were, two guys in shorts, sitting on the lowest sofa I have ever seen. Our shorts rode up, and suddenly we were sitting there in what felt like hot pants. I can’t tell you how mortifying it was to look around and see everyone else looking all majestic while we sat there like we were about to go for a jog. But hey, you play the cards you’re dealt.
We started discussing terms, and right when I thought everything was settled, the owner decided to drop a bomb. He wanted a 5% rent increase after two years. I thought I’d heard it all. We went from €3,300 to €4,500, and now this guy wants a 5% hike? Before I could step in, the ambassador says, “Let’s just start with the 5% increase now and keep it at that for three years.”
€4,900 a month. Unreal.
Then the coolest thing happened. The ambassador called in his secretary, asked her to bring the checkbook, and straight-up signed €58,500 upfront—an entire year’s rent. It was the most baller move I’d ever seen.
The next morning, I met the prince and the owner at the Hilton to sign the contract. The owner’s father—let’s just say he’s a big deal in Malta—joined us, but the prince was running late. I’m talking 10, 15, 20 minutes. Meanwhile, the owner was about to blow a fuse. His granddaughter’s 11th birthday was that day, and I could see him eyeing the door, ready to bolt.
Finally, the prince arrived. The owner, who had been on the verge of a meltdown, greeted him like they were long-lost best friends. We signed the contract, shook hands, and I walked away with the biggest cheque of my career: €4,900.
The whole experience was surreal. My commission? 40%. That’s almost €2,000 in one deal. I walked into the office feeling like a king. It was one of those deals that sticks with you—crazy, funny, and incredibly satisfying.
And every time I pass by that apartment, I look up and remember that wild ride. Definitely one of my favorite real estate stories of all time.
Stay tuned for the next one—you won’t want to miss it!
