Chapter 277: Omen

Words : 1320 Updated : Oct 11th, 2025

One city, Milan; half the history of the Maldini family. When speaking of AC Milan, it's impossible to avoid mentioning the Maldini family. Two generations have played for AC Milan, both wearing the captain's armband. The Maldinis have long become synonymous with loyalty. Cesare Maldini, Paolo Maldini—and if you count the future, even Daniel Maldini. Three generations have fought for the Rossoneri! Maldini's house in Milan isn't big—it's a rented place. He actually bought a home in Turin. Though loyal to AC Milan, compared to the bustling city of Milan, Maldini clearly prefers the quiet of Turin. The house he rents is in a villa district less than two kilometers from the training center. Thanks to its proximity to the facility, it's not unusual to see Maldini biking or jogging to work. He's very approachable with fans—never keeping a deliberate distance. If someone is a Milan supporter, he'll do his best to meet their requests. To Maldini, Milan is home! Today, taking advantage of a day off, Maldini invited Suker and Kaká over for dinner. Naturally, Suker didn't dare be late to a former captain's invitation. Ding-dong! Maldini opened the door. Suker handed over a bottle of red wine. Kaká, noticing his own empty hands, smiled sheepishly. "Boss!" "Captain!" Maldini smiled as he took the wine. "Come on in!" The two entered. Maldini's home was nothing like what they expected. Not some grand mansion—just a modest two-story suburban house. The first floor was a living area, the second was bedrooms. There was a small backyard outside. Maldini's two sons were playing with a dog. Suker turned to look at the wall. At the center hung the Milan crest, flanked by two family portraits from different eras. "One is of my father, the other is mine," Maldini said, hands on hips. "Back then, my father shoved me into Milan's youth academy. He thought I had the makings of a striker. But I ended up a defender instead!" Suker turned and gave a thumbs-up. "You're Milan's legendary left-back!" Maldini laughed. "You flatterer..." Suker was always praising him—it was a little embarrassing. Just then, a woman came out of the kitchen wearing sponge gloves, holding a pizza tray. It was Maldini's wife—his lifelong love, Adriana. "Thank you for your hard work, sister-in-law! Need help with anything?" Suker immediately rushed over. Kaká, standing there clueless for a second, quickly followed. Under Adriana's instructions, the two helped bring dishes to the backyard table. Soon, everyone gathered around for dinner. The Maldini family of four, plus Suker and Kaká—six people total, just right for the table. "What's it like to score a hat-trick at the San Siro?" Maldini's younger son, Dennis, wide-eyed with curiosity, asked Suker. Suker put down his fork and stroked his chin. "How to explain this... Do you like any girls?" Dennis was five years old. "Yes!" he shouted. "I like Bella, the girl next door!" Maldini and Adriana both facepalmed. Adriana sighed. "Bella's a lovely girl, but she's four years older than you!" A five-year-old boy and a nine-year-old girl—a huge gap. "I'll grow up soon!" Dennis declared. Then he pushed again: "So what's it like?" Suker grinned. "It's like Bella asks you out on a date—and brings two of her girlfriends along. All three of them are beautiful, and—get this—they all have a crush on you!" Suker winked. "Cool or not?" Dennis froze, then shouted: "Cool!" Everyone burst out laughing. Dennis was a die-hard Milan fan. Both of Maldini's sons were Milan fans. Unlike a certain football legend's rebellious youngest son... Adriana suddenly teased, "Christian, why aren't you saying anything?" Suker and Kaká turned to look. This was Maldini's eldest son—Christian Maldini. Around ten years old. Ever since they arrived, he'd been unusually quiet. And when they looked at him, his face instantly turned red, flustered and shy. Maldini ruffled his hair with a smile. "That's what happens when you meet your idols." He laughed again. "He's a fan of both of you." Suker suddenly pointed to Kaká. "Between me and him, who do you like more?" "Huh?" Christian was instantly stunned. Pick one? He liked them both! This was clearly one of those "save Mom or save Dad" dilemmas. "All right, stop messing with him." Maldini chuckled and raised his glass. "Cheers!" "Cheers~~!" Everyone raised their glasses. Dinner went by quickly. Afterward, only Maldini, Suker, and Kaká remained at the table. Maldini personally made coffee—clearly, there was something he wanted to talk about. The two waited patiently. Maldini handed out the coffee. Suker took a sip. "I still prefer iced coffee," he grimaced. "Hot coffee's too bitter!" "You don't add milk or sugar, of course it's bitter!" Kaká retorted. He then took a few sugar cubes from a ceramic jar and dropped them into his cup. Suker copied him and sipped again—this time, it wasn't bad. Maldini smiled at the two and said, "I'll probably retire at the end of this season." Kaká said nothing. Suker stayed silent as well. But inwardly, he thought— 'Don't worry! You won't retire—you'll be playing for years yet!' Seeing their silence, Maldini sighed. "Actually, the club reached out to me a few days ago. They want me to be the middleman in your contract talks." Suker looked up. Maldini looked back at him. "You both know I can't say no to the club. But I respect your decisions. Just treat me as a messenger. Whatever you decide, I won't blame you." Suker and Kaká both let out a breath of relief. If Maldini had tried to force conditions, Suk might've left right away. Maldini went on. "The club wants to offer you both lifetime contracts." Suker grinned. Big ask! "That won't be cheap," Suker said. Maldini nodded. "Don't worry about salary—it's very generous. If you stay, it'll be Serie A's top salary." Suker sighed. Serie A's top salary now? Nothing compared to the money flying around in the future. Kaká thought for a bit. "I'm open to renewing—but not a lifetime deal." Maldini nodded and looked at Suker. Suker smiled. "I just signed a new contract. Now they want a lifetime one? That's too soon. If Milan offers me the number 9 shirt, the captain's armband, and guarantees I'll start, I might consider it." That was basically a polite rejection. Maldini gave a bitter laugh and waved it off. "Alright, I get your point. I'll let the club know." "Boss, you're not going to make things hard for us over this, are you?" Suker joked. Maldini rolled his eyes. "What's going on in that head of yours?" Suker laughed. "Better safe than sorry." Maldini shook his head with a smile. "The second leg of the Champions League quarterfinal is coming up. Get ready. Win at home—let's reach the semifinals!" Kaká grinned. "Don't worry, captain!" Suker: "Watch us shine!" Around 6 p.m., the two left. On the drive back, Suker turned to Kaká. "Are you really going to sign a lifetime contract?" Kaká: "If the money's good enough, I will." Suker went silent, then said, "As your friend, I advise against it." Kaká looked over, surprised. "Why?" Suker shook his head, saying nothing. Signing that deal would be a trap. Milan was heading toward decline. Only one month remained before the massive scandal that would shake Italian football. Suker looked to the sky. The sunset painted the clouds red, like fire igniting half the heavens. The calm before the storm is always peaceful. Just like Italy's football scene now. Everything seemed orderly, vibrant, full of hope—but that was exactly what made it ominous.

Chapter 277: Omen

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