Monday, August 26th, 2022

Nike European Headquarters, Milan

10:47 AM

Alessandro Moretti sat across from seven Nike executives in a conference room with floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked Milan's financial district, and a tablet on the table displayed a photo of Demien Walter in Atalanta's blue and black.

"We went to San Siro on Sunday to evaluate Walter," Alessandro began. "I'm recommending we move forward."

The senior executive—Giorgio Mancini, Nike Football's Southern Europe Director—leaned back in his chair. "Atalanta lost one-nil. What's the story here?"

"The story," Alessandro said, "is that an eighteen-year-old who Fiorentina released four months ago just played seventy-five minutes at San Siro against the defending champions and looked like he belonged. Not for a second did he shrink."

He swiped to a photo showing Demien exchanging shirts with Tonali after the match.

"Sandro Tonali asked for his shirt. That tells you everything about how Milan's players viewed him."

The second executive, Claudia Rossi who handled athlete acquisitions, studied the image. "What's his profile like? Social media presence?"

"Growing fast. Three hundred thousand Instagram followers last week, over three- fifty now. Engagement rate is good—people are responding to his posts. His agent's team is managing it professionally." Alessandro swiped to another image. "More importantly, the Italian media is already calling him a prospect. He's got a compelling narrative—English kid with Italian roots, released by Fiorentina's academy, fighting his way back, Just like the way we spoke about this last week. People would love that kind of story."

"Character?" Giorgio asked.

"Clean. No red flags. Hardworking, professional, coachable. His manager at Atalanta speaks highly of him. Teammates respect him." Alessandro set the tablet down. "He's got the intangibles we look for—composure under pressure, leadership potential, hunger to prove himself."

Claudia tapped her pen on the table. "Where do you see him in three years?"

"Regular starter for Atalanta by next season or even this season, Ederson is out this seasson so i am sure he will be starting through out the season . Transfer to a bigger club by twenty-one—probably Premier League or staying in Serie A with a top-three club by next season. National team call-up by twenty-two if he maintains trajectory or this year with world cup close." Alessandro's voice was confident. "I've been scouting for seventeen years. This kid has something special. Not just the ability—the mentality."

The third executive—Ferretti who managed budgets—flipped through his notes. "Adidas and Puma?"

"Both watching. Adidas had scouts at the match. Puma's is also tracking him." Alessandro leaned forward slightly. "If we wait, we will lose this war. If we move now, we get him at a favorable rate before his value explodes."

Giorgio exchanged glances with Claudia and the silent communication between executives who'd worked together for years played out in raised eyebrows and subtle nods.

"So you are saying we should go with the last Risk assessment?" Giorgio asked.

Yeah we should, Just like the way we discussed. "We gets Our Next Gen flagship who can wear the Generation Pack in November and represent the program launch without requiring ten-million-euro commitments, and Sophia gets her first athlete who proves the shoes aren't just for models and lifestyle content but actually perform at elite level, and we lock in a potential star before the World Cup cycle when his value could triple if Atalanta keeps giving him minutes."

"Brand fit?" Claudia asked. "Does he represent Nike values?"

"Absolutely. Determination, innovation, never backing down. His entire story is about overcoming rejection and proving doubters wrong. That's exactly the narrative we want." Alessandro pulled up another image showing Demien controlling the ball against three Milan players. "And he's marketable. Good-looking kid, bilingual, comfortable in front of cameras based on his Instagram content. He can do media, he can do campaigns and He can model."

Ferretti the budget executive was already calculating. "If he hits the incentive triggers—regular playing time, goals, assists—the deal could scale to what, two hundred thousand annually by year three?"

"Roughly," Alessandro confirmed. "But that means he's performing, which means he's worth it."

Marcus Marino leaned forward, decision made. "Set up a meeting with his agent. Let's see what kind of structure makes sense. But I want to move on this week before someone else does."

Jennifer Park nodded her head.

Alessandro smiled. "I'll reach out to Marco Benetti today."

Monday Morning, August 26th, 2022

Sophia's Hotel, Milan

8:15 AM

Demien woke to sunlight streaming through the hotel curtains, and for a moment he didn't remember where he was. Then the events of yesterday came back—the match at San Siro, the disallowed goal, the drive back to Sophia's hotel, falling asleep in her arms while she ran her fingers through his hair.

He turned his head. Sophia was still asleep beside him, her face peaceful against the pillow, dark hair spread across the white fabric. He watched her breathe for a moment, not wanting to move and wake her.

His phone buzzed on the nightstand. He reached over carefully and checked it—8:17 AM, a few Instagram notifications, nothing urgent. He set it back down.

Sophia stirred, her eyes opening slowly. When she saw him watching, she smiled. "Morning."

"Morning." He brushed a strand of hair from her face. "Sleep okay?"

"Better than okay." She stretched slightly. "You?"

"Yeah. Really good."

They lay there in comfortable silence for a few minutes, the morning sounds of Milan filtering through the window—traffic, voices, the city waking up.

"What time do you need to be back in Bergamo?" she asked.

"Training's at two. So I should probably leave around noon."

"That gives us time for breakfast." She sat up, pulling the sheet with her. "There's a good café downstairs. Unless you want room service?"

"Café sounds good."

********

9:30 AM

They sat at a small table in the hotel's café, cappuccinos and cornetti between them. The place was half-full with business travelers and tourists, and morning light poured through the tall windows.

"Are you okay?" Sophia asked, stirring her coffee. "You've been quiet since yesterday."

"Just thinking." He picked at his pastry. "About the match. About everything."

"It was a good performance, Demien. Really."

"We lost."

"But you competed. Against Milan. At San Siro." She reached across and touched his hand. "That's not nothing."

He nodded, but the disappointment still sat heavy in his chest. "Adriano scored for Fiorentina yesterday. First goal for the first team."

Sophia's expression softened. "I saw that on Instagram this morning. How do you feel about it?"

"I don't know." He met her eyes. "Happy for him, I guess. We were friends once. But also..." He trailed off.

"It stings a little?"

"Yeah."

"That's normal." She squeezed his hand. "You're both on your own paths now. His success doesn't take anything away from yours."

"I know. It just... feels weird sometimes. Like everyone's moving forward and I'm just trying to catch up."

"You are moving forward," she said firmly. "Two matches into your professional career and you're already making an impact. You're doing exactly what you need to be doing."

He smiled despite himself. "When did you become so wise?"

"I've always been wise. You just noticed." She grinned and took a sip of her cappuccino. "Besides, someone has to keep your confidence up when you get in your own head."

They finished breakfast slowly, talking about lighter things—her upcoming shoots and design work, his training routine, plans for when they could see each other next. The conversation felt easy and natural, and Demien felt some of the tension from yesterday start to ease.

********

11:45 AM

Highway A4, Approaching Bergamo

Sophia's Audi cruised in the middle lane with the windows down and warm August air streaming through, and Demien sat in the passenger seat with his bag at his feet while the Milan skyline disappeared behind them in the rearview mirror.

They'd checked out of the hotel together, and now the highway stretched ahead toward Bergamo. The radio played quietly—some Italian pop song Demien didn't recognize—and Sophia hummed along occasionally.

"Busy week ahead?" he asked.

"Always." She smiled, keeping her eyes on the road. "Photoshoot tomorrow in Milan, then I've got meetings with the design team Wednesday about the fall collection. Thursday's another shoot, and Friday I'm supposed to review samples."

"Sounds exhausting."

"It's what I signed up for." She glanced over briefly. "But I love it. Even the chaos."

The highway stretched out ahead, and comfortable silence settled between them for a moment.

"I'm going to visit Luca this week," she said. "Probably Thursday or Friday. You want me to tell him anything?"

"Just that I said hi. And congrats on the new opportunity."

"I will." She changed lanes smoothly to pass a truck. "He's excited about it. Nervous too, but that's normal."

The exit for Bergamo appeared ahead, and she moved right with practiced ease.

The car slowed as they entered Bergamo's outskirts, and the streets narrowed with buildings pressing close on both sides. Ten minutes later, she pulled up outside his apartment building and put the car in park.

"Thanks for this weekend," he said. "For coming to the match. For everything."

"Of course." She turned toward him, and her expression was soft. "I'm proud of you, you know that? Sunday was hard, but you handled it well."

"Didn't feel like it."

"You did." She reached over and squeezed his hand. "You're going to be great, Demien. I really believe that."

He leaned across the center console and kissed her, and she met him halfway with her hand coming up to cup his jaw. The kiss was gentle and unhurried, and when they pulled apart her smile was genuine.

"Text me later," she said.

"I will." He grabbed his bag and opened the door. "Drive safe."

"Always do."

He stepped out and closed the door, and she waved once before pulling away from the curb. He watched her car disappear around the corner, and then he turned toward the building entrance.

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