The next day came around, and it was the day before the match against Venezia. As far as Alex had been informed, no formal bid had been made for Dorgu just yet. He was currently walking towards the press room as it was time for him to give a pre match press conference.
Alex met Isabella at the entrance to the Lecce press room, the early afternoon sunlight filtering through the glass doors, striping the tiled floor with pale gold. The hum of the building felt louder than usual: the distant knock of a printer, the low murmur of staff prepping for the journalists' arrival, the whir of the air conditioning unit working against the rising Apulian heat.
