The Saint Maddox Odyssey

”These are the offers that have come in for Rocher.” Contract finalised and chairman meeting done, Sallow handed Saint a printed offer sheet.

”Reject all of them. We’re renewing Rocher immediately, he’s still central to what we’re building next season.” Saint scanned the numbers briefly before setting the sheet aside.

”Already speaking with his agent, actually,” Sallow said, something close to resentment flickering behind his eyes as he said it.

Whatever anyone thought of Jasper’s general reputation, he’d turned out to be a genuinely sharp negotiator. Sallow had dealt with plenty of agents across a long career in this game, but something about losing ground to Saint’s own flatmate clearly stung in a way most negotiations didn’t.

”Right... and Whitfield. You’re really letting him go?” Watching Saint move past the topic without further comment, Sallow shifted the conversation instead.

”That’s what we promised him. Can’t go back on it now, not without losing every ounce of trust I’ve built with this squad.” Whitfield’s professionalism this final stretch had been really excellent, the only issue was that the man himself wanted to go home.

”Fair enough,” Sallow said, nodding.

One million pounds, that was the fee Whitfield’s boyhood club had agreed to pay. His true value sat considerably higher, realistically north of three million, but Saint had given his word months earlier, and Villa honoured it: a cut-price deal to get him home.

Whitfield’s exit had, in truth, been settled in principle for weeks already, he’d end up the first player to officially leave Villa’s squad that summer.

That same evening, Saint took a call from Whitfield himself, thanking him properly. Whatever threats and ultimatums had defined their earliest conversations, Whitfield’s actual feelings toward Saint by season’s end were entirely warm, Saint had kept his word exactly as promised, and that mattered more to him than anything said back in the autumn.

”Good luck, Fabian,” Saint told him, and meant it.

That same night, Villa’s official website confirmed it: club captain Fabian Whitfield had completed his move to his boyhood club.

Mixed feelings, mostly. Fans were happy for him personally, if genuinely worried about what came next. Whitfield’s poor early-season form was easy enough to forget now, buried under everything that followed; the turnaround, the captaincy, a player supporters had properly fallen for all over again.

But his importance to Villa’s midfield was impossible to overstate, and even the most casual fan could see the obvious problem sitting underneath his exit: who exactly was supposed to replace him?

”Sheffield United’s offer for Delgado just came through.” Walking toward the transfer department together, one of Sallow’s assistants caught up with the news.

Two million pounds, that was the number on the table.

”Take it. And add a young player to the deal, Danny Osei.” Saint had been tracking Osei for a while already.

A really talented but troubled Italian; no, English.. prospect whose career, in another life, had never fully recovered from a bad run of injuries and mismanagement.

Saint wanted to try rewriting that story. Beyond results on the pitch, there was real satisfaction in developing young talent properly; and Saint, having spent a previous life obsessing over exactly this kind of hidden gem, wasn’t about to pass up the chance.

”Danny Osei?” Sallow looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

”Good young player. Trust me.” Saint didn’t elaborate further.

Negotiations between Villa and Sheffield United followed the usual pattern, haggling not unlike any market exchange, just with considerably larger numbers attached.

Saint went into it with real confidence. Osei was already represented by Jasper’s agency, as it happened, Jasper had made contact with him some time ago on Saint’s recommendation.

After a few rounds of back-and-forth, both sides settled: Sheffield United paid one and a half million pounds plus Osei in exchange for Delgado.

Delgado became Villa’s second departure of the summer. At the same time, Villa landed their first signing of the window too, though this one hadn’t cost a penny.

”Who on earth is Danny Osei?” the press wanted to know, having tracked Villa’s business closely all week.

Eighteen years old, technically promoted to Sheffield United’s first team the previous season, and yet hadn’t managed a single senior minute across the entire campaign.

Osei wasn’t yet the name English football would eventually rave about, even though his academy form had been genuinely outstanding at every level below the first team.

His real emergence, in the version of events Saint remembered, had come only after Sheffield United’s own relegation, the following season, once circumstance finally forced a manager’s hand.

Except now, that circumstance no longer existed. Sheffield United’s academy pairing that had been due to break through together would never get the chance, because Osei belonged to Villa now, and as for the other half of that pairing, Saint already had a better alternative in mind.

The first signing had landed, and the press assumed the follow-up would take a while longer. Instead, Villa’s second signing of the summer was confirmed almost immediately.

Marcus Colley.

The fee: eight hundred fifty thousand pounds.

Still a fairly unknown name, Colley’s form at his current club hadn’t been especially eye-catching, and for most of the season he hadn’t even played his natural position, a conversion to full-back that hadn’t fully taken hold yet, at least not publicly. The deal itself had actually been agreed before the season had even finished, quietly worked out in the background by Saint personally.

Full-back was genuinely Villa’s biggest structural gap. Nobody currently on the books could realistically hold down that position at Premier League level, Peña and Alves both fell squarely into the category of players Saint intended to move on.

The defensive rebuild, in truth, had barely started. Strip away Rami and Loach, and Villa’s only remaining recognised centre-back was Alves, who himself wasn’t guaranteed a squad spot come August.

Villa’s defensive recruitment, then, was only the opening phase of a summer that had a genuinely long way still to run. Fortunately, the good news kept coming even this early on. Right as the Colley deal was finalised, another defensive reinforcement joined the club too.

Andrew Barzley, the young centre-back Saint had first flagged watching Rotherham play, months earlier, now arriving on a free transfer entirely.

Barzley’s form the previous season had turned plenty of heads, Premier League clubs included, most notably a direct rival for Villa’s own ambitions this summer.

Villa didn’t have the financial muscle to simply outbid a bigger club for his signature. What they did have was Saint himself, showing up in person to make the pitch directly, genuine attention and sincerity where money alone wouldn’t have closed it.

That personal touch made the difference. Barzley had been leaning toward a rival’s offer right up until Saint’s visit tipped the decision Villa’s way.

With Barzley’s decision made, and given that he too now fell under Jasper’s growing client list, Jasper had been quietly working the relationship in the background throughout, smoothing the path the whole time.