Chapter 125: New signings

The new season had barely kicked off, and already European football was in absolute chaos. Everyone had seen it coming—Juventus was on the verge of collapse. The Calciopoli scandal had shaken Italian football to its core, and now the mighty Bianconeri were being picked apart like vultures around a carcass. It was only a matter of time before their top players scattered across the continent. Sure enough, just days after the World Cup Final, Real Madrid fired the first shot. Their official website lit up with the announcement: Fabio Capello was returning to the Santiago Bernabéu, and alongside him, Brazilian midfield general Emerson. That was all it took. The dominoes started to fall. Barcelona swooped in next, grabbing two of Juventus's most experienced defenders—Gianluca Zambrotta and Lilian Thuram. It was a clever move, strengthening both flanks in one go. Inter Milan pounced on Patrick Vieira. Fiorentina added flair up front by securing the services of Adrian Mutu. And then came the real shocker. Before boarding his flight to Spain, Arthur had asked Allen to make an announcement on behalf of Leeds United: Zlatan Ibrahimović and Fabio Cannavaro were officially joining the club for the new season. The English media erupted. Leeds United—recently promoted, newly rebuilt—was suddenly on the same page as Europe's biggest clubs. And not just competing with them... beating them to world-class signings. It didn't seem real. Sky Sports ran breaking news segments on repeat. Papers like The Guardian and The Times headlined with: "Leeds United Land Juventus Duo – Premier League Shockwaves" Radio stations buzzed with debates. Fans on forums couldn't believe what they were reading. "How the hell did Leeds beat Real Madrid to Cannavaro?" one fan posted. Another added, "Ibrahimović to Leeds? What is this, Football Manager?" Capello himself was asked about it during his introductory press conference at Real Madrid. And to the surprise of many, he spoke candidly. "I had hoped to bring Emerson and Cannavaro to Madrid," he admitted. "But when I contacted Cannavaro's people... he told me he'd already committed to Leeds United." Capello didn't look bitter. If anything, there was a hint of grudging respect. And just days later, Inter Milan's president Massimo Moratti echoed something similar. "We were very interested in Ibrahimović. We had plans. But Leeds... they moved first. Before the World Cup." That statement alone stunned the press. "Before the World Cup?" "Then how did no one know?" "Where were the leaks? The rumors?" The media began to dig deeper. It became clear that Arthur had played this one masterfully. Back in May, before the chaos of the summer began, Arthur had sat down with Allen, his trusted right-hand man, and made the call: if Juventus imploded, Leeds had to be ready. He knew competition for players like Cannavaro and Ibrahimović would be fierce. Timing was everything. So, while the rest of Europe was caught up in World Cup fever, Arthur and Allen moved quietly. Allen took charge of everything—negotiations, travel, paperwork. And he did it all under the radar. Only four people knew about the deals before they were finalized: Arthur, Allen, Lina (their finance director), and Diego Simeone, who had already joined Leeds as an assistant and helped pitch the project to the players in question. Most importantly, nothing was officially signed until after the World Cup began. It was a calculated risk. Juventus had given verbal agreements, but nothing on paper yet. Allen waited for the perfect moment—just after the opening matches in Germany—then flew to Turin, contracts in hand. Arthur had one major concern through all of this: leaks. If word got out too early, giants like Real Madrid, Inter, and even AC Milan would have swooped in, raising wages, upping bids, and turning heads. So he kept quiet. No press. No negotiations in the open. Not even a whisper. And it worked. Now, while clubs across Europe scrambled in the wake of Juventus's downfall, Leeds United stood tall, holding two of the most valuable pieces on the chessboard. Zlatan Ibrahimović, a striker with flair, arrogance, and jaw-dropping technique. Fabio Cannavaro, the rock at the heart of Italy's World Cup-winning defence. Both would be wearing white next season—but not for Real Madrid, not for Juventus, not for Inter. For Leeds. Arthur had played the long game. And now, as the world tried to piece together how this had all happened, he simply smiled. The season was only just beginning... but the statement had already been made. **** However, the spotlight on Arthur didn't last long. Just days after Leeds United shook the football world by announcing the signings of Zlatan Ibrahimović and Fabio Cannavaro, a new storm rolled in from London—and it had money written all over it. Chelsea, under the ownership of Russian billionaire Roman Abramovich, clearly weren't in the mood to be outshone. They had been throwing money around since his takeover, and this summer was no different. It was as if the moment Leeds made headlines, Chelsea said, "Hold my vodka." Early that morning, their official website lit up with a jaw-dropping announcement: Andriy Shevchenko had joined Chelsea for a record-breaking fee of €50 million. Fans across England were stunned. The legendary Ukrainian striker, who had terrorized Serie A for years with AC Milan, was now headed to Stamford Bridge. It felt surreal. Twitter and message boards exploded. Pubs buzzed with debates. Even fans who supported rival clubs couldn't help but talk about it. "Shevchenko in the Premier League? That's insane!" "He's gonna score 30 goals easily." "Chelsea just don't stop spending, do they?" Newsrooms went into a frenzy. Editors who had already signed off on the morning's sports pages were calling writers back in. Deadlines were extended. Headlines rewritten. Features on Arthur and Leeds were hastily pulled back to make room for the bombshell. But before anyone could finish drafting those fresh columns, Chelsea struck again. Just a few hours later, another update came through: Michael Ballack, captain of the German national team, had officially joined Chelsea on a free transfer. Yes—two seismic signings in one day. It was almost unfair. A £50 million superstar in the morning, a world-class midfielder in the afternoon—one bought with a mountain of cash, the other for nothing at all. It didn't just dominate the headlines. It erased everything else. The media's focus immediately shifted. Arthur and Leeds were old news. Even Manchester United, who had just announced the departure of Ruud van Nistelrooy to Real Madrid for €15 million, were barely mentioned in comparison. On any other day, that transfer would've dominated the front page. But not now. Arthur, meanwhile, was in Spain—completely unfazed by the noise back in England. While the media scrambled to chase the Chelsea story, Arthur was focused on quietly wrapping up the final two pieces of his own summer puzzle. Behind closed doors, without the drama or spectacle, he was still doing business. Let the headlines go where they may. Arthur had already made his statement on the pitch—and he knew the season was just beginning. **** Arthur arrived in Madrid once again after more than half a month, but this time, there was no time for nostalgia or relaxation. Though he had fond memories of his last visit—particularly the time spent with Shakira—work had taken full priority. Still, amid the rush, he took a brief moment to send her a simple message: "In Madrid for work. Miss your presence." Shakira, busy with dance rehearsals, paused when she saw the text. A soft smile formed on her lips. Without hesitation, she called him. Their conversation was light and warm—nothing serious, just two people reconnecting, laughing, and catching up across the busy hum of their lives. But Arthur's schedule allowed no room for distraction. Together with Allen, he headed straight to Atlético Madrid's training base in Majadahonda. Time was precious, and they had a mission: Fernando Torres. Waiting for them at the training center was Enrique, the current boss of Atlético. The man, who once seemed more like a fanboy on the internet, now sat across from Arthur in the office, his demeanor professional, though his club's financial struggles hung in the air like a weight neither party wanted to mention aloud. Negotiations didn't drag on this time. Leeds United's offer—€25 million with an additional €500,000 if Torres made 30 appearances in the upcoming season—was already close to what Enrique had hoped for. He had rejected a previous offer, banking on Torres' youth and standout form last season to attract more cash. But now, post-World Cup, and with the club's finances bleeding, he couldn't afford to play hardball anymore. They sealed the deal. While Allen handled the paperwork, Arthur requested a call with Torres, who was still on holiday. Enrique reluctantly helped make it happen, but the moment Torres realized his boyhood club was planning to sell him, his mood turned cold. "No. I'm not leaving Atlético," Torres said flatly. "This is my home." He had every right to feel that way. Born and raised in Madrid, the club's captain, and a symbol of loyalty—leaving was unthinkable. But when Enrique failed to sway him, Arthur took over the call. He didn't go into emotional speeches or try to manipulate Torres. Instead, Arthur laid it out clearly. A salary of €40,000 a week. A leading role in Leeds United's attack. And, most importantly, Champions League football—something Atlético couldn't offer. There was silence for a moment. Then Torres sighed. "...Champions League, huh?" It was the deciding factor. A few more words, a little reassurance, and Torres finally gave in. He agreed to join Leeds United. Arthur had his striker. That same afternoon, with no time to waste, Arthur and Allen headed to Barcelona. Before leaving England, Arthur had already spoken to Radamel Falcao, and the Colombian wasn't against the idea of joining the Catalan giants. He was flattered, actually. So, in Barcelona, Arthur didn't bother with haggling or drawn-out talks. He met directly with club president Laporta, and in less than two hours, Falcao was sold to Barça for €41 million. Clean and quick. With Torres secured and Falcao off the books, Arthur's summer transfer blueprint for the first team was complete. There were still younger prospects and smaller deals to sort, but Allen would handle those. Arthur was ready for a break. He returned to Leeds the next day and finally allowed himself to slack off a little. It was already July 14th, and in just a few days, the players would report back for pre-season training. Until then, he'd rest. But football, as always, never sleeps—and neither does the media. The very next day, July 15th, transfer news exploded across England. First, Liverpool made a splash by announcing that James Milner had signed for €20 million on a four-year deal. But before fans and journalists could digest that, Leeds United's official website dropped a wave of updates—one after another: Edin Džeko: Loaned to Manchester City for one season. Jamie Vardy: Loaned to Reading for a year. Falcao: Officially transferred to Barcelona for €41 million. Dimitar Berbatov: Sold to Manchester United for €30 million. The first two moves—Džeko and Vardy—barely registered on the news cycle. But Falcao? Berbatov? That was different. Fans were stunned. Reporters were baffled. How could Arthur—who had just qualified Leeds for the Champions League—let both of his top scorers go? The backlash was swift and loud. Headlines filled the evening newspapers: "Arthur's Champions League Gamble: Group Stage Glory Is the Best He Can Hope For!" "Arthur Has Lost It Again!" "Stingy or Strategic? Leeds United's Odd Summer Strategy" "A First in Football—Two Top Strikers Gone Before the Season Starts!" Pundits questioned his ambition. Fans vented online. Rival supporters laughed. Arthur? He stayed silent. No press conference. No statements. No panicked interviews to explain the vision. Leeds United's media team didn't lift a finger to defend him. Instead, they quietly prepared another announcement for the next morning. And when dawn broke, the official website of Leeds United refreshed with one simple headline: "Welcome, Fernando Torres." No fanfare. No fireworks. Just a photo of the Spanish striker holding up the number 9 shirt, smiling for the camera, with Arthur standing next to him, arms folded, calm as ever. The message was clear. Arthur hadn't lost the plot. He was simply one step ahead.