Chapter 6 Not quite the villain

Evander POV

“You have to be joking, Liam... you mean this tiny kid is on your team?” Mr. Sterling, the head investor, slammed his hand down on the table. He didn't even look directly at the coach as his furious eyes were fixed right on me.

“Sir, I promise you… he's good,” Coach tried to continue, but the glare he received from Mr. Sterling made him keep shut.

I leaned back in my leather chair, keeping my face completely blank as I stared at the huge projector screen at the end of the room.

Right there, on the screen of the projector, was Renn's profile picture and his database. I didn't even know whether I should refer to her as a guy or a girl. I scanned the entire room, reading everyone's expressions as they stared at the displayed information.

The other four core players were sitting around the table with me, and the mood in the boardroom was completely tense. Mr. Sterling had a demanding look on his face, and I couldn't blame him. He had invested so much in the team to get a short player as a replacement for the striker's spot.

“You know why we kicked the other player out? Because he was 5’9, and now you're bringing in a 5’8 player. What's the difference? If we need to beat other teams, we need to look intimidating and dominating,” Mr. Sterling's voice echoed throughout the office.

“Mr. Sterling, I promise you, maybe it's because you didn't see the kid's speed out there on the field. He had great speed, and his leg trajectory would be perfect with just a little training,” Zephyr cut in, leaning forward with a lazy grin.

“He left the midfielders biting dust during the trial. The kid has serious potential.”

Mr. Sterling wasn't buying whatever Zephyr said because his face twisted into a frown.

“I didn't fly all the way from Italy to Levi's to get a 5’8 player. You can do better, I know.” He was still adamant. There was nothing we could do to change his mind. He has always been the one loyal investor that stayed with us, even when we lost some games, he always stayed.

“I agree with Zephyr, sir,” Alvin chipped in, nodding his head. “His agility is weird, almost dance-inspired. It’s exactly what our midfield needs to throw off the defense this season.”

Theodore let out a loud, mocking snort from across the table. “Agility doesn’t mean crap on a brutal pitch, Alvin. One solid tackle from an Ivy League defender and that kid is going home in an ambulance. We need muscle to win this year, not a fem-boy.”

Lincoln sat quietly next to me, tapping his fingers against his chin. He didn’t even look at the investors, he just threw a tired glance in my direction, like he was begging me silently to end this meeting already.

“I don't care who plays,” Lincoln said coldly. “As long as they don't drag down my pace or make the starting lineup look sloppy.”

“Exactly!” Mr. Sterling pointed a finger directly at me. “Evander, you’re the captain of this team. The tournament registry locks at midnight tonight. If your team is short even one player, the system automatically disqualifies the academy. We are pulling out one hundred percent of our funding if you don't find a proper replacement for this kid immediately.”

As I stared at the team members with my hands resting on my chin, there were no words that could come out of my mouth except for the internal curse I kept throwing at Renn. Was that even her real name?

I wanted her off my team more than anyone in this room. She was a girl and was totally unfit for football, and that could ruin the academy’s reputation forever if anyone found out that Levi's academy accepted a girl to play football.

But I couldn't expose her, at least not tonight. Coach Liam was ready to register the names already, once we got approved. We could always modify the players. That was one of the reasons why I agreed to keep her secret. If she messed up, I would tell the coach immediately and have her replaced.

I couldn't afford the investors or the coach knowing the truth right now. She would get kicked out immediately, our team would be short one player, and the midnight deadline would disqualify us before the season even started. I needed this championship. I needed it more than anyone in this room could ever comprehend.

“The team stays as it is,” I finally spoke, my voice unbothered as I met Mr. Sterling's furious gaze. “The deadline is in a few hours. We don't have time to run another emergency entrance exam, and I’m not playing the qualifiers with an incomplete squad. Give the kid until the end of the week. If he doesn't pull his weight by the first match, I’ll personally kick him off the pitch.”

Mr. Sterling stared at me, trying to read my face. He knew my family’s influence practically ran the administrative board, so he couldn't just override my decision. He let out a harsh breath and grabbed his briefcase from the table.

“Fine. Friday,” Mr. Sterling warned, standing up and straightening his suit. “If that tiny kid makes us look bad, the Manchester funding drops to zero. Remember that, Evander.”

The investors stormed out of the boardroom, and the rest of the boys slowly filed out behind them. Zephyr gave me a quick pat on the shoulder on his way out. “Good call, captain. Trust me, this rookie is interesting.”

I stayed back, massaging my temples as the room finally emptied out. Coach Liam walked up to the edge of the table, looking incredibly stressed. He reached into his jacket pocket and slid an envelope into my hands.

“The old man sent this,” he said.

“You saw him come?” I asked, slightly amused. My father would never park his car right in front of Levi's academy, not after my brother's death.

“Nah, a private courier dropped this off for you earlier, Evander,” Coach Liam said quietly and walked out of the room.

My chest tightened instantly. I didn’t say a single word as I picked up the envelope, waiting in silence until the coach walked out and the heavy double doors clicked shut.

Left entirely alone in the quiet boardroom, I tore the paper open. The first thing that slid out was a photograph. The young girl in the photo had a wide smile, which her bright red lipstick enhanced very much.

It was Denise. She was smiling at the camera, wearing an expensive designer dress, looking as spoiled and high-maintenance as ever.

Underneath the photo was a short note from my father.

The marriage talks and corporate alliance with her family have been finalized. The moment you are done playing this childish football game of yours, you have a wedding to prepare for. Do not embarrass the family name this season.

I crumpled the photograph in my right fist as I felt my anger increase, my knuckles turning completely pale as I crushed Denise’s smiling face into a tight ball of paper.

My parents had always looked down on my football career. To them, the sport was a low-class, brainless hobby for thugs. They didn't care that I was the captain, or that I had broken academy records. They just wanted me to pack my bags, sit in a corporate office, and marry a billionaire’s daughter to expand their empire.

My only ticket to absolute freedom and financial independence was winning this national championship. If I won, the World Cup scouts waiting in the final stands would sign me to a professional international contract. I wouldn't need a single dime of the Manchester family money ever again. I could walk away forever without needing their support.

I looked back up at the projector screen, staring at the face of Renn Willow. A dry chuckle escaped my throat as I threw the crumpled photo of my so-called fiancée into the trash bin.

I had no choice. To save my team from disqualification and escape Denise, I had to keep the secret girl on my team alive.

I stood up, adjusting my captain's armband as I walked out of the boardroom, heading straight toward the elite penthouse reserved only for the best players.

“You better be worth the trouble, Renn,” I mumbled under my breath as I pushed the door open. “Because if you make me lose my freedom, I will make your life a living hell.”