Chapter 67: Derby Day
The morning sky over Monaco was a perfect blue, with not a single cloud daring to intrude on derby day. Demien stood on his balcony, his coffee growing cold in his hand, his eyes fixed on the distant curve of the Stade Louis II’s roof peeking above the city skyline.
His match day routine was unwavering: up at exactly 6:30, a fifteen-minute stretch, a protein-heavy breakfast, and one cup of coffee (never two). He would then review tactics until precisely 10:00. After that, silence. No calls, no distractions—just the mental preparation that had become his ritual.
On the kitchen table, the lineup sheet lay neatly beside his tablet. He had made his decisions two days earlier but reviewed them once more that morning:
- Roma in goal
- Evra, Squillaci, Rodriguez, and Ibarra across the back
- Alonso as the deep playmaker, with Bernardi and D’Alessandro completing the midfield trio
- Rothen and Giuly on the wings
- Morientes leading the line
No surprises. No gambles. Just the right pieces in the right positions.
He checked his watch—9:47. Almost time to shut everything down and embrace the pre-match silence. His phone buzzed on the counter.
Clara.