The Saint Maddox Odyssey

With the blessings of family and friends still ringing in his ears, Saint boarded a flight back to England, and before he’d even left, the merger between his e-commerce venture and Marcus Idowu’s platform had been finalised and signed off.

Saint had always preferred being the man behind the curtain rather than the one running day to day operations himself. Besides, the real currency in business was always relationships, and Marcus already had the right doors open in that department; whatever came of this partnership down the line, Saint was happy to let Marcus drive it.

Nearly twenty hours later, Saint touched down back home. He’d left as two people; he was returning as two people as well, though the woman’s role had quietly shifted somewhere along the way. What had started the trip as a friend tagging along had, by the time the plane landed, settled comfortably into something closer to family.

”Mate, welcome back.” Jasper was there waiting to greet him.

Jasper hadn’t exactly been sitting idle while Saint was away. In the space of a single summer, he’d quietly put his name on a handful of signings elsewhere, players nobody had really heard of yet but who’d be making headlines of their own soon enough.

There was a sharp young striker out of Spain’s lower leagues that Saint had never flagged, purely Jasper’s own find; and a towering Portuguese centre back Jasper had unearthed scouting trips of his own, someone Saint had actually mentioned in passing months earlier, though Villa’s defensive stocks were already deep enough that the lad wasn’t needed there for now.

”This is my cousin,” Saint said, introducing Chloe.

”Good lord, how does a bloke like you end up with a sister that stunning?” Fortunately for everyone involved, Chloe didn’t understand a word of what Jasper had just said.

”This is my good mate, Jasper,” Saint said instead, turning to Chloe.

”Cousin, your friend’s gorgeous,” Chloe whispered, a little starstruck.

”Your cousin’s better looking,” Saint said, mildly put out.

”Ha, course he is, obviously,” Chloe agreed instantly, nodding along.

Whatever else Saint hadn’t figured out about himself yet, it turned out he had a mild streak of protective older brother buried somewhere in him after all.

”You wouldn’t believe how many clubs have been sniffing round asking me about Rocher lately,” Jasper said.

”Not exactly shocking.” Rocher’s form through a dozen Championship matches had been impossible to miss.

”Doesn’t it worry you he’ll get poached out from under you?” Jasper asked, a little thrown by how unbothered Saint looked about it.

”Not even slightly. Rocher might move on in a year or two, sure, but right now, he’s not going anywhere, and that’s got nothing to do with the club. That’s down to me.” Rocher was sharp enough to know exactly where his best option sat.

If it were one of the genuine giants knocking, a Man City or a Chelsea, maybe that calculation changed. But short of that, Saint was entirely confident Rocher stayed put.

”Whoa, cousin, your house is massive,” Chloe said, wide eyed as the car pulled up to Saint’s place.

In truth, Saint’s house wasn’t especially large by Premier League standards, but perspective was everything, and to a girl seeing it for the first time, the reaction tracked.

”What’s mine is yours too, don’t be daft,” Saint said. Cousin or not, as far as Saint was concerned these days, Chloe might as well have been his own sister.

”What’s this about, then?” As the car rolled into the driveway, Saint spotted a brand new blue supercar parked outside, and one glance told him exactly what it was. A Lamborghini.

Jasper’s love affair with the brand was something close to legendary at this point. Half the Italian sports car market existed and this man had eyes for exactly one marque; this made car number four.

”Well, mate? Surprised?” Jasper said, grinning.

”Surprised? You bought a car?”

”Wait, you’re giving this to me?” Saint finally caught up.

”Course I am, it’s this year’s new model,” Jasper said.

”Jasper, you feeling alright?” Saint reached over and pressed a hand to his friend’s forehead, half joking.

”Oi, get off, most people would actually be moved right about now, you know,” Jasper said, genuinely a little deflated. He’d been looking forward to this moment for weeks.

”Oh, mate, you finally developed a conscience,” Saint said, laying the sarcasm on thick.

”Right, that’s it, I’m taking it back,” Jasper shot back, properly annoyed now.

”No returns on gifts, that’s not how this works, you’d think we’d just broken up or something,” Saint said, snatching the keys out of Jasper’s hand before he could make good on the threat.

”Hang onto these properly,” Saint said, passing the keys straight to Chloe. ”I’ll take you out in it tonight.”

”Hold on, you didn’t actually scrap the old Fiat, did you?” Saint suddenly remembered Jasper’s battered little runaround, a car Jasper had moaned about constantly for the better part of a year.

”Didn’t scrap it,” Jasper said, shaking his head, though something in his expression told Saint there was more to that sentence.

”Gave it away,” Jasper admitted, clearly annoyed at himself for how predictable he’d just become.

”Yeah, figured.” Saint had seen this coming a mile off. Jasper had spent months insisting that car didn’t suit a head coach anymore, let alone a Premier League one. And with old money behind him, plus a genuinely good summer financially off the back of his agency signings, Jasper hardly needed convincing to splash out.

Saint had no intention of keeping the gift without returning the favour eventually; Jasper’s birthday would be the perfect excuse. Money had been tight earlier in the year with everything tied up in the e-commerce investment, but that had largely cleared now, and a decent sports car of his own was well within reach.

After dropping Saint home, Jasper didn’t stick around, the two of them had already agreed to meet up again for dinner that evening instead.

Grace was still mid-shoot and wouldn’t be free for at least another month, so to head off any awkward misunderstandings in the press, Saint made sure to properly explain Chloe’s situation to her himself first.

Good instincts, as it turned out, because the tabloids ran wild with speculation the very next day regardless, forcing Jasper to call an emergency press conference just to clear the air on Saint’s behalf.

That first night back, Saint took Jasper’s new car out for its first proper drive, taking Chloe to dinner and then, true to his word, giving her a proper tour of the city by night.

Time with Chloe would be limited going forward, though. The squad still had a few days before pre season assembly, but Saint’s own holiday, as head coach, was officially over.

So for the stretch ahead, Chloe would mostly be left to explore on her own, or more accurately, with a translator and a bodyguard in tow.

Chloe didn’t speak a word of English beyond the basics, so a translator was non-negotiable, and ideally one who could double as something of an informal tutor along the way.

As for the bodyguard, Saint wasn’t taking chances. England wasn’t necessarily any safer than home, and a young woman unfamiliar with the city deserved someone properly looking out for her, so a female bodyguard got arranged without a second thought.