You have a conference this afternoon at five o'clock. Say you've signed a contract with Ferrari to be one of their future drivers. And be careful what you say, ragazzina.
Nicole put down her cell phone so that the screen mirrored the surface of the chair, totally ignoring the old man's message.
A contract with Ferrari eh...who knows how much money they promised to him.
Her blank eyes shifted to the soccer field in front of her, specifically targeting the boy with pinkish-tinged hair.
She watched carefully the way he gracefully advanced on the field, analyzed his precise steps, the way he bent his foot and with which part of it he touched the moving ball. She scrutinized his aqua-green eyes, which at that moment seemed to be the same color as green marine fauna struck by the summer sunlight.
Nicole bent her head over one shoulder, staring with particular intensity at the prodigy's pale, glowing face. Skin without blemish, marked by an expression that had no expressions.
Pale as snow and cold as ice. Ironic for a boy who had spent his last years under the scorching sun of the Spanish capital city.
The pools of blood shifted to the other boy, the one with the jersey number 2, looking at the strands of hair in front of his face, wet from the water he had thrown on himself.
She saw his grin as he looked at his teammates, admired the purple and green color of his eyes becoming brighter and more saturated under the warm light of day, matching the colors of his hair.
She noticed his muscular shoulders and back defined by the sweaty, tight t-shirt on her skin, enjoying the sight of the imposing body that became her possession during the night.
"TAKE A 10-MINUTE BREAK."
It had been two days since her last meeting with her adoptive father, and it was as many more before she had to return to the cold, closed facilities of Blue Lock.
The night of the incident Oliver had stayed with her, trying to tend to her wounds while she sipped her glass of wine number I don't know and read something in her native tongue.
The next day the two had decided to stay in, taking advantage of the fact that there was no practice. They had talked, watched movies, and ordered food out.
They had spent the night venting the sexual tension they had accumulated in those long weeks, starting late at night and ending early in the morning.
"Don't look at me like that, I might not be able to resist you."
That was probably why Aiku was so elated that day.
Nicole smiled slyly at the boy, bringing her body slightly forward and looking down at the two tone haired boy.
"Might?"
Aiku grinned, lowering his eyes to his body. The corner of his lips dropped slightly as soon as he remembered why she was wearing a black turtle neck bodysuit with a long-sleeved leather jacket over it, but he avoided thinking too hard about it.
"I definitely wouldn't be able to resist you." he chortled in a more serious tone, raising his purple and green gems back to the girl and staring at her intently.
She returned his gaze, lowering her eyes to his lips for a moment and quickly raising them again, aware that her every gesture had been perfectly followed and had also had an effect of its own.
Oliver exhaled a trembling sigh, closing his eyes and tightening his grip on the railing that separated his hot body from hers.
"I'm definitely not able to resist you."
But this she already knew that.
Nicole smiled victoriously with her eyes, later hiding them behind her pair of sunglasses and returning to have a straight posture.
There was a reason why she liked Aiku Oliver, leaving out being attractive, nice and not clingy: he was completely lost to her.
Whether because of her personality or her body, that did not matter. In any case, Nicole was aware that the boy's last thought of the night and first thought of the morning was about her.
Her red eyes shifted away from Aiku for a moment, meeting a few meters away the teal ones of the prodigy.
Itoshi Sae was staring at her with such intensity that anyone could not have maintained such a gaze.
Nicole Vinciguerra, on the other hand, smiled slyly, thinning her eyelids and returning the cold prodigy's heavy stare with a mocking, commanding one.
She noticed the imperceptible movement of the boy's rosy lips, aware that he was on the verge of a grimace.
She was probably one of the only people who could move the boy's robotic expression, and this even Itoshi Sae knew.
Reason why he despised her and was interested in her even more.
Sae saw the girl open her lips, probably to say something to the team captain, never taking her piercing gaze off him.
Then she stood up, shifting her eyes to Oliver for a moment to say one last thing to him and later raising them back to the pink-haired one.
This time the eye contact was extremely brief, as she sneered with that smile of hers that he so hated but aspired to see again, and then she turned her back to him.
And he dared not for a moment turn his teal eyes away from the female figure who was growing smaller and smaller.
He couldn't have done it even if he had wanted to. And in any case, he would not have wanted to even if he was forced to.
Skip time
Five p.m.
"EGO-"
The man sighed, looked away from the analysis of a fourth-section team and raised an eyebrow toward the woman's harried figure.
"What?" he asked without a tone in his voice, watching Anri with a deadpanned expression as she tried to regain the oxygen lost during her run.
"Vinciguerra-san." she said with difficulty, signaling the cell phone and then the TV set in the room, as if to suggest turning it on.
Ego, without a moment of hesitation, grabbed the remote control. He was not overly surprised to see that the news itself was talking about the italian girl.
"And after disappearing for weeks without letting her haters, her fans, and the agencies she was in contact with know anything, Nicole Vinciguerra is finally back with us." said the announcer, smiling toward the camera as a portrait of the redhead was shown in the background.
"The young winner, nicknamed Nike, is at this moment in the Japanese Sport Palace, ready to give her interview after so much unexpected press silence." she continued, and Anri anxiously shifted her gaze to Ego, trying to read his face.
Ego, however, remained impassive and expressionless in front of the screen, trying to pick up any information hidden even behind the interviewee's facial expressions.
It seemed to him that he told the girl to simply take advantage of Itoshi Sae's invitation and study the prodigy's movements, and if she had to, also perform her duties with the agencies she had a contract with.
And yet, three days after he had let her go, here was her name appearing in the national news.
"My colleague confirms that he's in the hall right now, so I'll leave the floor to him."
The image changed from that of the TV studio to a close-up on the Italian's tanned face.
She seemed relaxed, at ease in front of the many cameras and reporters hungry for gossip and scoops.
Almost as if she thought she was better than everyone in front of her. As if it was normal for her to have all those eyes on her.
On her and only for her.
Ego narrowed his eyes, noticing the high collar and long-sleeved leather jacket.
Wasn't it too hot at that time of year to wear things like that? Even more for a girl like Nicole, who appeared to be confident in revealing clothes?
The girl stood behind a long counter, totally alone with only a microphone in front of her. On her side of the table there was no one else: it was probably going to be a back-and-forth between various reporters and her.
"Vinciguerra-san, what have you been doing in secret these long weeks?"
The red-haired girl smiled in one direction, probably toward the one who had asked her the question.
"If it's a secret, by telling you wouldn't I go against the literal meaning of the word?" she asked in reply, then laughed slightly at the silence in the room.
She shook her head slightly.
"I have no secrets. I didn't do anything in particular: I worked out, I got bored, I relaxed, I had fun. I did what I always do, only none of you saw me." she said simply, essentially dropping the accusations that she hid something from the public.
"What can you tell us about your relationship with the young soccer player Oliver Aiku? The first time you were spotted after a long time, he was with you."
Ego raised an eyebrow, casting a look towards Anri, who immediately nodded. She didn't even need to look it up: she had already discovered Aiku Oliver's identity when she had first met Nicole, so she could already confirm that there was indeed some kind of acquaintance between the two.
She searched the Internet for this information anyway, sighing dejectedly as soon as she saw a photo where the two were extremely close, too close for Japanese etiquette norms.
"Oliver Aiku and I have very compatible personalities and a relationship yet to be defined. But if your question is whether we're headed for engagement, the answer is no." the girl stated, patting the microphone's thin structure as she stared at the reporter.
"Yet in the pictures they took of you, you look like more than just friends." the man continued, raising his voice slightly to try to move the impassive champion.
She merely gave him one of her cover smiles, never ceasing to watch him with that relaxed, controlled gaze of hers.
"Isn't it your job as a journalist to do thorough research before interviewing someone? Yet you don't seem to be aware that I have similar attitudes with many other people in my acquaintance, whether men or women." she explained in the same tone, never showing a single moment of rancor, nervousness, or any other feeling.
"I guess you could say it's in my Italian blood."
Voices of agreement were raised in the room toward the girl and nasty comments toward the man, who was extremely embarrassed by being called out by someone way younger than himself.
Nicole looked at him without ever flinching, aware that she had just used his own uncomfortable question against him.
"Are there people with intelligent questions?" she decided to interrupt the others' hubbub, casting one last glance at the man and shifting it to everyone else.
The one to speak next was a woman.
"Good morning Miss Vinciguerra, I wanted to ask you if the reason you disappeared for so long was related to the possibility of a sports contract. If yes, could you tell us which one?" asked the reporter in English, with an Australian accent, watching the girl with her pink eyes.
Contract with Ferrari...
Nicole brought a hand to her left ear, beginning to gently caress the gold jewelry that adorned it.
And be careful what you say, ragazzina....
Her blood-red eyes shifted back to the patient and calm ones of the reporter, who was waiting for a response from the young champion.
"You could say so, yeah..." the girl said after a few moments, and Ego from behind the screen frowned strangely.
No, she didn't have a contract.
At least not with him, who by the way could not make any contracts since he was not the manager of any football team.
"Could you tell us for what, exactly?" asked another person, standing up along with the reporter already on her feet.
"Is it volleyball? It'll be your first team sport."
"Maybe something with the snow? It would explain why it disappeared from Japan for so long."
"I say something like fencing-"
The voices were suddenly interrupted by the quiet, deep voice of the redhead.
"Does it really matter?"
Silence fell in the room.
All eyes focused on her, all ears waiting to hear her voice, all hands ready to transcribe her words.
Everyone was hanging from her lips.
Nicole stopped touching her earrings, leaning forward with her torso and looking intently at everyone present, one by one, sparing none.
"Whatever sport it is, it changes absolutely nothing for you all." she said with an almost chilling calm, going against the warmth of her hot-coloured palette.
The chill made everyone in the room shiver: those who were standing were unable to sit down, and those who were sitting could not find the strength to get up.
Even from behind the screens, Ego and Anri were paralyzed by the cruel solemnity (they did not know how else to describe it) that for the first time they heard coming from the usually quiet and nonchalant young woman.
And they were not the only ones witnessing the scene from inside that facility.
Inside one of the training rooms, two boys were engaged in an intensive workout- or rather, one of them was, while the other was lying on the floor with his cell phone in his hands.
In fact, Nagi, while Reo was sweating seven shirts, was watching a soccer game. And he would have continued watching it if his finger had not accidentally pressed the wrong button on the screen, changing the channel.
Channel he had then failed to change again as soon as he recognized the face of the same girl who had long since become his obsession.
He stared wide-eyed at the screen, not finding the strength to go to his rich friend to show him the scene.
The pools of blood inside her eyelids seemed even more intense than he remembered, and because of how many shades were in them, it almost seemed as if the red liquid was flowing vividly inside them.
"Volleyball, fencing, skiing, bring me whatever you want..."
Something in her gaze managed to chill him even without actually being in front of her, and something in her voice made him quiver even more.
"Try me with all you've got..."
Scary and beautiful he had said the first time. Now he had confirmation of that again.
"Give me whatever challenge you think I'll not be able to do..."
His grip on the cell phone grew stronger as his fingers seemed to lock as if they were going gangrenous.
"But I have to warn you about something you probably already know..."
His breath caught in his throat as his heart beat fast and violently inside his chest like a condemned prisoner begging to be set free.
The storm in his eyes alive and overwhelming as he stared into her cruel and haughty eyes, which seemed to look straight into his soul from behind the camera pointed at her, as if she was aware that he was behind the screen.
And the words she said next stopped his heart in his chest, finally killing the poor prisoner who simply wanted to run away.
"I'm winning them all."
Meanwhile...
The man threw the remote control at the television, hunting an ungainly scream and kicking the poor desk that always received his abuse.
"THAT FUCKING BITCH."
The housekeeper jerked, closing her eyes to try to calm herself before the landlord could notice her fear.
Her terrified eyes quickly shifted to the maids standing next to her, also rigid in their positions for fear that the slightest movement could make them the man's future victim.
The woman who controlled the entire house staff sighed slowly, trying to calm her nerves.
She already knew what was going to happen. It was not a rare thing after all.
Nicole Vinciguerra would do something to anger the landlord and he would go home and beat her up.
But when Nicole Vinciguerra would do something to anger the landlord, and she was out of his range of touch, then he would spite his rage on one of the maids.
And usually it was not by beating them up.
Abigail, the housekeeper, lowered her gaze to her heeled shoes.
She was not the housekeeper because she was older, or wiser, or more reliable than all the others.
She was simply his favorite.
His favorite in appearance, and his favorite as a way to release his stress.
Of Russian descent, Abigail was a beautiful woman of tall stature, stunning blue eyes, and silky blond hair. Very young, considering she was only 23, and surreally stunning.
Abigail had met Nicole.
She had not spoken to her, but she had once seen her inside the estate and was simply enraptured by the young Italian's appearance: by her glowing, warm skin, her fire-like hair, her eyes that recalled the blood lost by the most valiant of soldiers, her aura of pure grandeur and victory.
And she was sure Nicole had noticed her too: that one time she had shown up to the estate, they had exchanged a long look.
For the first time Abigail had felt observed without malice or perversity. She had felt seen for real, as Abigail and not as any overly beautiful woman from whom to draw passion.
Unfortunately, that was the last time they saw each other, and it was also the beginning of the blonde's feeling of pity for the young girl.
No one deserved to be treated in such a way by what was supposed to be a protective, father figure.
"ABIGAIL."
The woman sighed, straightening her back and giving her attention to the landlord.
The man grabbed her violently by the arm, yanking her and pushing her toward a door.
Abigail lost a beat, and her gaze shifted for a moment to the serious but authoritative face of the Italian girl on the screen.
She still believed that Nike would save her.
At least she hoped so.
Her eyes faded and her gaze shifted again to the bedroom next to her.
They say hope was the last to die after all.
Also meanwhile...
Oliver wiped his face with a towel, then brought the back of his head against the wall and closed his eyes to recover from post-training fatigue.
In front of him, leaning forward with elbows against his knees, Sae was staring at him intently.
The others were taking advantage of the locker room showers, glad to be able to wipe off their sweat after the intense activity to which they had been subjected.
"What are your business with Nicole Vinciguerra?" asked Sae suddenly, watching the captain's eyelids slowly open and the purple and green gems point silently at him.
Silence fell in the room, and Sae almost believed that the boy would refuse to answer his question.
"Fuck buddies, I guess..." he said quietly, shrugging in an I don't know manner and closing his eyelids again.
Sae didn't react to the news, very unsurprised (or rather not surprised at all) by the discovery: Oliver Aiku was not a guy known for lasting relationships and serious courtship.
Moreover, if that was the truth, then the interactions between the two during one break and another were not that strange.
"And what is she like?"
His mouth opened before he could even think about what he had just asked.
Oliver raised an eyebrow, reopening his eyelids a second time and staring down at the pink-haired boy.
His mixed-colored eyes stared into the teal-colored ones of his teammate.
Sae did not show a hint of hesitation for a single moment: he had asked that question because he wanted to know the answer, and now that he had asked it, there was no room to regret it.
"Hot. Sexy. Good at fucking me. Attractive. What do you want me to say?" asked the two-toned haired man as if the answer was obvious, pulling away from the wall and standing like the boy in front of him, with his torso bent forward and his elbows on his quads.
Sae raised an eyebrow.
"I don't care about that-"
"You don't?" interrupted Oliver, sneering slightly and leaning his head over one shoulder, showing a mocking scowl at the prodigy from Real Madrid.
Sae tightened his lips slightly, not understanding (or not wanting to acknowledge) what the team captain was implying.
Oliver continued.
"Are you telling me that you're not curious about what she's like without all those cameras around her? What is she like as a person? How good is she under the sheets?" he insisted, as his grin grew bigger and bigger and the mischievous spark in his eyes intensified.
Sae rolled his eyes, but found no way to reply because the captain gave no sign of stopping.
"I've seen how you look at her while you're on the field, and I've seen how she looks at you. She has a mermaid look, don't you think so too? So bewitching, dangerous, attractive..."
Oliver noticed everything. He was the captain and also a defender: it was his job to analyze and understand the moves and intentions of others before they could even move to accomplish them.
Sae stared at him without saying anything, while in his head he thought back to the blood-red eyes of the young Italian champion, their aggressive and sinuous cut, their depth so suffocating, their darkness so frightening but so captivating.
"Are you sure these are not the questions you want answered?" asked Oliver, suddenly rising from his seat and looking down at the prodigy.
Sae didn't say anything.
Yes, he was a defender and was incredibly good at reading people.
"Because if, on the other hand, you asked yourself <what are her intentions?> <what are her future plans?> <what will be her next step?> then forget about having a definite answer..." stated the boy, losing his grin and reserving a serious look for the pink-haired mate.
But her? No, with her it was completely useless to even try.
And if he had only tried, then he would have lost.
"Trust me, there's no way to win against Victory."
______________
Nicole has a habit of touching her ear jewelry when she's overthinking.
When Nicole said goodbye to Oliver that day, she told him that she would not go home as she would provoke someone who should not be provoked (the old man)
Sae is extremely attracted to Nicole, but he cannot accept it.
Ego believes that there is something wrong in the girl's private life.
______________
Author
Shorter chapter than usual, but I wanted to write quickly so here it is.
I don't even know whether to keep asking what you think, but it would be really nice to get some feedback.
That said, see ya besties