The clink of silverware and the low murmur of conversation filled the softly lit room.
In a corner booth, mostly out of view, two men sat across from each other—well-dressed, casual in posture, but with a precision in their tone that betrayed ease.
One of them—older, his hair touched with grey, his cufflinks subtle but costly—stirred his espresso slowly before speaking.
"I've been thinking," he said, voice even, eyes not quite meeting his companion's.
"It's time I brought someone else under the umbrella."
The other man—slimmer, younger, but sharp in the eyes—tilted his head slightly.
"Another athlete?"
"Another face," the older man clarified.
"Marketable. Smart. Global-ready. Not just a player, but a product."
A pause.
The espresso remained untouched.
"Timing's right," he added.
"They're still forming their foundation. Before the walls get too high."
The younger man smiled faintly. "You mean him, don't you."
