God Of football

Chapter 154: Keen Interest

The match had barely concluded when the stadium announcer declared Izan as the Man of the Match.

His name echoed through the Camp de Mestalla, drawing a resounding cheer from the fans.

The 16-year-old, who had dazzled the crowd with two crucial assists and an unforgettable last-minute curler to seal a 3-2 victory, walked toward the centre of the pitch with a modest grin on his face.

The award ceremony was swift but impactful. Izan accepted the sleek trophy, a symbol of his brilliance that evening, from the match officials.

The stadium lights caught the gleam of the award as he held it up for the fans to see. A chorus of chants erupted—”Izan, Izan, Izan!”—as he took a moment to bow his head slightly in gratitude.

Cameras zoomed in on his calm, composed expression, capturing another moment at the start of the prodigious teenager’s career.

”Whoaaaaahhh!” the Valencia players jokingly exclaimed, like it was the first time they had seen him take the Man of the Match award.

His teammates surrounded him shortly after, patting his back and playfully ruffling his hair, as fans continued to cheer.

Izan smiled, but his humility shone through; he quickly gestured toward the crowd, acknowledging their support and reminding everyone it had been a team effort.

---

As he headed toward the tunnel, a reporter intercepted him for a post-match interview. The reporter, a seasoned professional, extended a hand and a warm smile.

”Congratulations, Izan. A well-deserved Man of the Match performance. How are you feeling after such a spectacular game?”

Izan’s expression softened into a more reflective smile. ”Thank you. It feels great, of course, but more than anything, I’m just happy we got the result we needed. It was a big match for us.”

The reporter nodded, steering the conversation. ”At just 16, you’re capturing the attention of fans and pundits worldwide. Your name is being mentioned alongside some of football’s biggest names and brightest talents. How are you coping with all this attention?”

Izan paused thoughtfully, showing a maturity beyond his years. ”It’s definitely a lot, but I try not to let it affect me too much.

I focus on what I can control—working hard, learning, and improving. I have a great support system in my family, my teammates, and my coaches. They help me stay grounded and focused on the bigger picture.”

The crowd murmured with admiration as Izan’s poised answer reached them through the stadium speakers. The reporter pressed on.

”You mentioned your family. They must be incredibly proud of you. How important has their support been in helping you navigate this incredible journey?”

”My family means everything to me,” Izan said with a hint of emotion in his voice. ”My mom has sacrificed so much to give me this opportunity, and my sister is my biggest supporter although she sometimes doesn’t show it.

They’re always there to remind me of where I come from and why I play this game. Their belief in me is what keeps me going. A few other people have also helped. It would take a while if I had to name them here.”

The reporter smiled, sensing the depth of his words. She leaned in slightly, her tone more conspiratorial.

”Now, Izan, I have to ask—there’s been a lot of speculation about your future. Big clubs like Barcelona, Real Madrid, and Manchester City are reportedly interested in signing you. Any thoughts on these transfer rumours?”

Izan chuckled softly, his composure unshaken. ”I’ve heard the rumours, but right now, I’m fully focused on my development and contributing to my team. As of now, I don’t have any plans to move as I haven’t accomplished anything yet.

I’m fortunate to have the opportunity to play and grow at this stage. Whatever the future holds, I trust the right decisions will be made when the time is right.

”So if you can accomplish something with Valencia, would you move?”

”Who’s to say,” Izan said with a shrug.

The reporter raised an eyebrow, impressed by his polished response. ”That’s a very diplomatic answer, Izan. It’s clear you’ve got a good head on your shoulders.”

He smiled a glint of playful mischief in his eyes. ”I’ve had good guidance.”

The interview wrapped up with the reporter thanking him for his time and wishing him continued success.

Izan waved at the cameras before disappearing into the tunnel, his trophy tucked under his arm. Half an hour later, the Valencia team bus arrived at the Cuidad Deportiva de Paterna.

Izan, who had gotten some shut-eye, stood up with his bag over his shoulder.

Exiting the bus, he greeted his mates and the staff in the bus goodbye before walking towards Pietro’s car.

The latter dropped Izan off before driving away. The night was still young but Izan was tired. Flipping the door open, his gaze met Komi and Hori who had gotten up after hearing the door click.

”I thought Miranda was here,” Izan said as he put down the bag. ”Yeah, she was in the morning, but she had something urgent to do. She said a favour or something, so she packed a bag and is now in Milan” Komi gave Izan the gist.

”Milan?” Izan asked as his thoughts ran amok before calming himself. He went upstairs and took another shower before collapsing onto his bed, drifting off into slumber land.

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[The next day

Milan, Italy]

As the sun set, the city of Milan was bathed in a golden hue, reflecting off the intricate façades of historic buildings like the Duomo di Milano.

The streets were alive with the hum of conversations, the clinking of glasses in chic cafes, and the soft glow of streetlights.

Fashionable locals strolled through Galleria Vittorio Emanuele II while others gathered in cosy trattorias to savour aperitivo.

The air carried a mix of aromas, from freshly brewed espresso to gourmet dishes, adding to the charm of this cosmopolitan city.

....

In a classy restaurant, Miranda, elegantly dressed with a poised demeanour, sat across from an anonymous figure in a more secretive space.

Her sharp features radiated confidence, her dark brown eyes steady as she clasped her hands on the polished mahogany table between them.

The anonymous figure, voice calm yet insistent, leaned forward. ”We’re prepared to pay his release clause in full.

We can discuss the image rights and we’ll also improve his current salary greatly. At least double or triple his current salary

Opportunities like this don’t come around often.”

Miranda arched an eyebrow, her tone firm but polite. ”Izan isn’t looking for a move right now. He’s happy where he is—developing, learning, thriving.”

”Perhaps he just needs a nudge,” the voice pressed, their persistence unwavering. ”You can convince him. You’re his agent. This is what you do.”

Miranda’s lips curved into a faint, almost imperceptible smile. ”Izan is more than a client to me. He’s my son before anything else.

My job isn’t to force him into decisions that don’t make him happy—it’s to ensure his career aligns with his dreams.”

”We could discuss the agent fees if that is also small,” the voice said, emphasizing the ”agent fee” part.

”Please leave that out of it. If I wanted that, I would have made my way to a more lucrative club that could give a better offer.

The only reason I agreed to meet you is because of a favour I owe someone” Miranda said Resolutely.

The shadowy figure leaned back, silence filling the space between them for a moment before they spoke again, a note of irritation creeping in.

”Opportunity and money like this for a kid his age doesn’t come often. Sure, he’s making waves, but he should secure his future first, and that is with us”.

Miranda straightened her shoulders, her voice unwavering. ”Izan’s happiness and growth are priceless to me. If this is the stage he wants to be on, he’ll step onto it when he’s ready—not because someone else decides it’s time.”

The figure sighed, their tone softening slightly, though their resolve hadn’t faltered. ”Just... think about it. Convince him.”

Miranda stood, smoothing the fabric of her blazer. ”I’ll let Izan know you’re interested. But my loyalty lies with him—always.”

With that, she turned on her heel, her heels clicking against the tiled floor as she walked away, leaving the figure in contemplative silence.

The figure glanced at his phone, picked it up and tapped on a contact.

”Hello, you can send the pictures to a few stations so we can lead them on. If we can not get him this window, we should be prepared for the next, although this window would be better since we can’t let his value rise anymore,” the figure said after the call connected.

After the call, the figure put on a contemplative expression as he stared outside the window. Swirling the wine in hand, the figure took a sip and sighed.

”Guess I have to ask Jane for another favour,” the voice said in resignation as the figure picked the phone up.

A/n: Another chapter for my lovely readers. Have fun and I’ll see you tomorrow.