As Aldrich received Adam's call, it was almost the end of his workday. Tomorrow marked the beginning of the team's training camp, and the coaching staff was following their usual practice of preparing ahead of ti.
With a lighthearted tone, Aldrich answered, "What if I said I don't have ti to attend?"
"Well, uh... in that case, I'll relay your response to Real Madrid."
"No need for that, just kidding."
The Real Madrid presidential election had recently concluded. Under Sanz's leadership, the club had only secured a single league title, with the Champions League's best finish being runner-up. Despite his efforts to drum up support, the club mbers had lost patience with him. Florentino Pérez, with an overwhelming advantage, defeated Sanz to claim the presidency.
True to his campaign promise, Florentino wasted no ti. He paid a record-breaking buyout fee to lure Figo from Barcelona, forever etching the Portuguese player's na as one of Barça's most infamous traitors.
Florentino's project to build the Galácticos began. After signing Figo, he flew to London to invite Aldrich to dinner. It was obvious—he was looking for the next star to join his ambitious project.
Aldrich's new ho was a luxury villa on the north bank of the Thas. Chosen by Yvonne, the location pleased him greatly. Unlike an isolated countryside manor, this community setting provided neighbors and the opportunity to see familiar faces during daily routines. It was a semblance of normalcy in a hectic life.
After work, Aldrich called Yvonne, informing her they'd dine out. He didn't go into detail, only saying he'd pick her up at ho. Yvonne had been supervising renovations in their house, pointing out issues for the team to address on the spot.
When Aldrich's car pulled up to their driveway, Yvonne was already dressed in a fresh sumr dress.
"What's the occasion?" she asked curiously as she got into the car.
Aldrich rarely dined out, given his status as a public figure. Venturing out often led to unwanted attention, while staying ho offered peace.
As they drove toward West London, Aldrich briefly explained the dinner invitation.
"What do you think?" Yvonne asked, her eyes sparkling with intrigue. She knew this al carried significant weight.
"It's just a al."
"Just socializing?"
"Yeah. If the invite wasn't from a football club representative, I might've declined."
"Fair enough. Millwall may be called a powerhouse by the dia, but those traditional giants still aren't doing their howork when dealing with us."
Aldrich smirked but didn't elaborate.
The restaurant, Gordon Ramsay's three-Michelin-star venue, was located in Chelsea—a district in West London. Renowned for its exquisite cuisine, the restaurant attracted tourists and wealthy diners alike.
However, West London wasn't exactly friendly territory for Aldrich. Despite its opulence, the area housed many Chelsea fans who harbored little goodwill toward him.
Three years earlier, after dining in West London with lanie, Aldrich had found his car vandalized—a crude pile of graffiti resembling excrent scrawled on the paintwork. Since then, he'd avoided the area, holding no resentnt as he considered such incidents par for the course. After all, if Chelsea's coach dared park his car in Millwall's neighborhood overnight, it would likely end up as scrap tal—or disappear entirely.
Football in England wasn't just a sport. It was the people's ga, deeply ingrained in local culture. Where there were fans, there were bound to be a few troublemakers.
Still, for Real Madrid to invite Aldrich to discuss business in enemy territory showed a lack of preparation. Not that it indicated insincerity—after all, the president himself had co. What more could they do? Roll out a red carpet? That would be overkill.
By the ti Aldrich arrived, night had fallen. Traffic delays had stretched his journey across London.
Real Madrid, despite their wealth, hadn't gone so far as to book the entire restaurant—it would've been inappropriate for a newly elected president to indulge in such excess. After all, even the most powerful clubs had their limits when it ca to public image.
A group of seven arrived, with Florentino taking center stage. The others, his assistants and club officials, played supporting roles.
Including Aldrich and Yvonne, there were nine of them in total, occupying two tables in a corner of the restaurant. Aldrich's table seated four.
Upon eting, Aldrich and Florentino shook hands, exchanging polite greetings. Smiles adorned their faces as they conversed fluently in Spanish, easily building rapport over non-football topics.
People are inherently different, and the sa holds true for club presidents. Florentino had his business empire—Spain's second-largest construction conglorate. Building such a legacy required extraordinary social acun. As Real Madrid's president, his vision and scope naturally stood out.
Aldrich admired and even revered n like him. Despite the wealth of the Hall family, their accomplishnts couldn't be asured purely in monetary terms.
Under Florentino's leadership, Real Madrid's comrcial value had soared exponentially over more than a decade, and his personal group's assets had quintupled. The once modest enterprise had grown into a near 10-billion-euro colossus. Such success embodied intelligence beyond ordinary comprehension.
There was no disputing that Florentino single-handedly redefined Real Madrid's brand in the modern era while leveraging the club's platform to expand his empire.
What powered Real Madrid? Governnt backing, financial conglorates, and the brand's global reach. Florentino's business empire thrived through these interconnected networks, benefiting imnsely from his stewardship of the club.
Aldrich harbored no cynicism, seeing Florentino not as soone abusing power for personal gain but as a practitioner of mutual benefit. Both Real Madrid and Florentino profited—a textbook example of a symbiotic relationship. After all, Florentino wasn't a public servant. In a pragmatic era, a hint of self-interest often fueled extraordinary accomplishnts.
Desire, after all, ignites boundless ambition.
The dinner was modest yet tasteful, far from a rural feast with excessive indulgence. Leaving a table littered with untouched food would only invite disdain from onlookers.
As Aldrich dined with Florentino, the surrounding patrons clearly understood the significance of what they were witnessing. Paparazzi inevitably caught wind, snapping pictures from every conceivable angle outside the restaurant.
Throughout the al, Aldrich and Florentino shared a lively conversation—without ntioning football once.
Only near the al's end did Florentino reveal his intentions.
"Aldrich, we've heard much about Henry. He hasn't renewed with Millwall yet. I won't pry into what's happening between you, but out of respect, I'd like to say this: Real Madrid is interested in Henry. I hope he wears our jersey next season. If he's beco a headache for you at Millwall, we'd be happy to collaborate, ease your burden, and reward Millwall handsoly."
Florentino's voice was calm, his tone businesslike—as if discussing a straightforward transaction. For them, trading players was exactly that—a business deal.
Real Madrid had already acquired Figo, but if there was a chance to land Henry, why not?
Henry, after all, was a superstar who had dazzled last season. His global influence could surpass Figo's and create a seismic impact. While Figo's transfer stirred emotions within Real Madrid, Henry's acquisition would resonate on a continental and global scale.
As last season's Champions League Golden Boot and European Golden Shoe winner, Henry had also helped Millwall secure three major trophies in two years. Combined with his national team accolades, signing Henry would give Real Madrid's Galácticos a solid foundation, enhancing their brand—a priority for Florentino.
Aldrich respected Florentino—not just as a person but for his strategic thods.
The Figo transfer might have involved so unsavory tactics, but those were circumstantial. Before Florentino's presidency, he lacked the formal authority to negotiate directly with Barcelona. And given the rivalry between the clubs, official discussions would have inevitably collapsed. Under such constraints, private maneuvering beca understandable.
Once in power, however, Florentino acted with clarity and determination. When targeting a player, he approached with sincerity, leading open negotiations rather than resorting to clandestine ans. His calculated style left a lasting impression on Aldrich.
Millwall often had to deal with European clubs for player transfers—past, present, and future. This was inevitable.
But would you prefer negotiations conducted out in the open, or sches plotted in the shadows?
The answer was obvious: the forr.
Aldrich dabbed his mouth with a napkin, ready to reject Florentino outright, when the latter slid a card across the table. A few nas were written on it.
"Since we just signed Figo, the club's debt has exceeded 200 million euros. That's no secret. So, we cannot complete the deal with cash alone," Florentino said, his tone calm. "However, with alternative arrangents, I believe a collaboration between Millwall and Real Madrid could yield a mutually satisfying result."
After finishing his statent, Florentino took a sip of water.
He wasn't begging Aldrich for this deal. If it worked out, great; if not, no big deal. Business was business. The world didn't revolve around him. As long as Real Madrid presented an earnest offer, he could walk away with a clear conscience.
Failing to secure the transfer was one thing. Failing because of a lack of effort was sothing a winner like Florentino could not accept.
Aldrich didn't respond imdiately. Instead, he picked up the card and glanced at the nas on it.
His heart skipped a beat.
Anelka.
Ballack.
Karembeu.
Redondo.
Guti.
Casillas!
Real Madrid had no cash to pay for Henry's transfer fee.
And if Henry were to leave, it would likely break records.
Before, under Sanz's leadership, Real Madrid had reportedly offered over £30 million for Henry.
But that was then.
Since Florentino took charge, he used the funds to bring Figo in, aning they now had no cash left.
The six nas on the card were undoubtedly his way of trying to exchange players to secure Henry.
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