Chapter 168: Consequences
While David was feeling the weight of guilt, jogging home in an attempt to clear his mind, his thoughts spiraled into a storm. The sting of regret from the day’s disaster clawed at him, but something darker gnawed beneath the surface—fear. Real, raw fear. His doubts, once whispers, had grown louder with every step. The accident hadn’t just left bruises and bandages; it had planted seeds of uncertainty in a boy who, until now, had never truly questioned his place on the pitch or in the world.
And as he tried to run away from it—feet pounding the pavement, lungs burning with every breath—inside the sanctified halls of Manchester United’s headquarters, another storm was brewing. But this one didn’t whisper. It roared.
"How could you?!"
The voice exploded through the glass-and-steel stillness of the boardroom. A shout, furious and full of betrayal. It wasn’t just loud—it was seismic. The kind of voice that made pens freeze mid-stroke and sent coffee cups rattling against mahogany tables.
The outburst belonged to none other than Ed Woodward, the CEO of Manchester United.
For a man of his stature—measured, composed, always diplomatic—this was an extraordinary moment. Ed Woodward was not the kind to raise his voice. He was the type who handled crisis like a seasoned general: methodical, unflinching, always two steps ahead. He spoke with precision, led with strategy, and commanded respect not through fear, but through undeniable competence. In a world of shifting loyalties and ego-fueled politics, Ed had long been the pillar of steady leadership. Calm in chaos. Cool-headed in controversy. The man who made billion-pound deals without so much as loosening his tie.
Which made the sight before them—Ed Woodward, red-faced and shouting—nothing short of shocking.
The boardroom fell into a tense, disbelieving hush. Eyes darted nervously, unsure of where to look or how to react. Executives and directors who had once walked battlefields of negotiation and board-level wars now looked like startled schoolchildren. Their heads turned in slow motion toward the one man on the receiving end of that volcanic eruption.
Robert Lancing.
Senior board member. Longtime strategist. Political heavyweight. And in this moment, the man under fire.
Ed’s fury was laser-focused. No theatrics. No misfire.