Chapter 18: When the Adrenaline Fades
Author’s Note: Kind of a long Chapter ahead. It took a unholy amount of self control to stop me from splitting it into two.
Alex adjusted the collar of his navy-blue shirt and took a breath deep enough to steady a dozen nerves. The hallway outside the President’s office was quiet, too quiet, the kind of stillness that wrapped around your chest and squeezed, just a little. He could hear his own footsteps echo faintly as he moved forward.
When he reached the door, he paused, not to hesitate, but to collect himself. Moments like this, they mattered. Not because they were dramatic or glamorous, but because they were defining. Meetings with suits weren’t his favorite part of the job, but if he wanted Lecce to evolve into more than a yo-yo club, this was where it had to start.
Inside, the office was exactly what he expected, and exactly what it needed to be. The walls were lined with relics of Lecce’s past: framed jerseys of club legends, match-worn boots under glass, yellowing newspaper clippings of promotion celebrations, and a photo—slightly faded—of the club’s first ever promotion to Serie A. There was pride in every inch of the room. History. Identity. A reminder that this club had soul, even if the modern game tried to bleach that out of everything.
President Saverio Carlini sat behind a broad, old oak desk, posture relaxed but eyes sharp. His tailored suit was a shade darker than Alex’s shirt, his salt-and-pepper hair combed back like a man who paid attention to every detail. Beside him sat Pantaleo Corvino, the Sporting Director, arms folded, quiet, calculating. Corvino didn’t do small talk. He preferred silence—and when he did speak, it meant something.
"Mister Walker," Carlini greeted warmly, rising from his chair. "Please, have a seat."
"Thank you, President," Alex replied, offering a polite nod before settling into the chair across from them.
Pantaleo gave a brief nod of his own. Still silent.
Alex didn’t waste time. There was no point dancing around it. He’d rehearsed the words on his way over, over and over again, until they no longer sounded like a pitch and more like a conviction.
"I’ll get straight to it," Alex began. "We need to expand our scouting network."
Carlini’s brows rose slightly. Corvino didn’t move, though Alex caught the faintest twitch in his cheek.