God Of football

Chapter 766: “You.”

”Later,” Izan said into the phone, smirking as he hung up on Lamine’s playful taunt.

He set the device down on the counter just as footsteps padded down the stairs.

Hori appeared first, a crossbody bag slung carelessly over her shoulder, her hair tied up in a quick ponytail.

Olivia followed right after, neat as always, her coat draped over one arm.

Both were dressed for their little shopping spree, looking like they’d already rehearsed this exit together.

”What about you?” Olivia asked, tilting her head at Izan as she buttoned up her coat.

”What are you going to do while we’re gone?”

”Nothing,” Izan said flatly, before flopping down onto the couch with exaggerated laziness, one arm draped across the backrest like he’d just declared war on productivity.

The two girls exchanged a look, that silent, wordless glance women shared when they were already on the same page.

Hori turned back to him, lips tugging into a mischievous grin.

”You know,” she began, deliberately slow, ”we still don’t have a driver. And Olivia can’t drive... at least not if we want to get there in one piece.”

”Hey!” Olivia shot back immediately, brows knitting together. ”I drive fine.”

”You drive like you want to end lives,” Hori said without missing a beat, though her eyes sparkled as she teased.

Izan groaned from the couch, dragging a hand down his face.

”If I drove you two, would you maybe, just maybe, spend less money this time? And also spend less time.”

Hori didn’t even blink.

She shook her head, brazen.

”No backsies. Besides, brothers are supposed to do these things for their sisters. You’re always with Olivia anyway, never with me.”

She softened her tone at the end, but only slightly, playing the little sister card with expert precision.

Izan let out a long, suffering sigh, then pushed himself upright.

”Fine. Give me five minutes.”

He disappeared upstairs, and true to his word, re-emerged before the clock had even hit the mark, freshly showered, hair styled, and dressed as though he were heading out for a quiet magazine shoot rather than chauffeuring his sister and girlfriend.

Hori and Olivia were waiting by the stairs when he came down.

The two of them took one look at him, then said in unison, ”Men.”

Izan brushed past without a word, leading the way toward the garden.

As he crossed through the living room, he gestured toward them from the other side of the glass expanse, his hand flicking impatiently in a come on motion.

Both girls rolled their eyes in unison but followed anyway, stepping out into the crisp air of the compound, the rhythm of their footsteps echoing after him.

The trio strolled across the driveway, the late-morning sun bouncing off the glossy black Benz GLS parked near the gate.

Hori dragged her feet a little, letting out a theatrical sigh as she eyed the SUV.

”We could’ve made an entrance with the Gemera,” she muttered, slinging her bag higher on her shoulder.

”But no... my brother just had to get all famous.”

Olivia smirked as she adjusted her coat.

”That’s the same reason he could even get the Gemera in the first place. Fame pays, you know.”

Izan ignored both of them, expression unreadable as he unlocked the car and slid into the driver’s seat.

The ignition purred to life, the cabin filling with the muted hum of the engine.

”Seatbelts,” he said simply, pulling them out of the estate and into the quiet streets of Hampstead.

The drive down into Chelsea was smooth, the chatter in the back alternating between Hori’s rapid-fire wishlist and Olivia’s calmer attempts to moderate it.

By the time they turned onto King’s Road, Izan had already braced himself.

Before he could step out, Olivia leaned across the console and tugged a black mask from her bag.

”Here,” she said, pulling it gently over his face. ”We don’t need a scene before the shopping even starts.”

Izan rolled his eyes but took it, slipping it on before he tightened the band of his bun anyway, stepping out into the light drizzle with the girls at his side.

The spree began almost instantly.

Hori darted from rack to rack like a kid in a candy store, holding up dresses she’d probably never wear, cooing at coats that would hang in her closet untouched.

Olivia was more measured, hovering behind her with a pile of selections, occasionally murmuring, ”Maybe not that one... try to be a little conservative, Hori.”

Hori, of course, paid no mind.

”Come on, Olivia, you’re supposed to be the girlfriend. You are supposed to break his bank,” she would say whenever Olivia shook her head at something.

Meanwhile, Izan wandered off, hands tucked in his pockets.

A jewellery section of a store he had entered close by, the one Hori and Olivia were in, caught his eye, neat rows of glinting earrings and timepieces under glass.

He thought of Komi’s quiet taste, Miranda’s elegance, and without hesitating, picked one of each.

He didn’t look at the tags; he knew if he saw the price, he might talk himself out of it.

By the time he returned to the reception, the attendants were already packing up half the shop for the girls.

Hori slapped the silver card back into his hand with zero guilt.

”Don’t see why you’re twitching,” she said airily, scrolling on her phone.

”This is pocket change for you. Look.”

She shoved the screen in his face, a Google result flashing: Izan Miura Hernández – Arsenal. Weekly wage: £1.7 million. Five-hundred million deal.

Izan pinched the bridge of his nose.

”That doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt when it comes out of my pocket.”

”Mm-hm.” Hori brushed him off, lifting her chin.

”Your words aren’t going to stop me from being a kept sister. It’s a career path at this point.”

The manager approached then, beaming as he handed Hori a sleek black VIP card.

”Congratulations, Miss. From now on, you can simply call us with your preferences. We’ll deliver directly.”

Hori’s smile stretched from ear to ear.

She took the card like it was a crown.

”All thanks to my lovely brother,” she cooed, casting Izan a sugary glance.

He only sighed and grabbed the mountain of bags himself, sending them off with the girls toward the car before circling back for the pieces he’d chosen.

The earrings, the watches, and finally, the bracelet.

It was the centrepiece of the store, perched under its own light.

The manager’s voice lowered, almost reverent.

”I thought I’d be promoted before this piece sold. I never imagined it would leave the case today... This might actually be what gets me there.”

Izan gave him a small smile, quiet but genuine, before sliding the box across the counter.

”Then I hope it does.”

He tucked it under his arm and stepped outside.

Behind him, the manager watched him go, puzzled.

Something tugged at the back of his memory.

The boy’s presence, the hair, the striking eyes, there was something unmistakable there.

”He looks really familiar,” he muttered, scratching his chin.

One of the attendants finally gave him a look of pure disbelief.

”Seriously? You didn’t recognise him? At least from the hair and the eyes?”

The realisation hit like a delayed thunderclap as recognition flashed, his breath catching.

”Oh, shit—”

But by then, Izan was already gone, disappearing into the drizzle with his sisters’ laughter echoing from the SUV.

.....

By the time they pulled up to the gate, the drizzle had thinned to a mist clinging to the air.

Izan slowed the Benz, brow furrowing as soon as he spotted a familiar black sedan already parked neatly in the driveway.

”Miranda,” Olivia murmured from the passenger seat, her lips curving into a puzzled smile. ”She beat us here?”

Hori leaned forward between the seats, frown mirroring her brother’s. ”We weren’t gone that long, were we?”

Izan didn’t answer.

He guided the SUV smoothly past the sedan, reversing with practised ease until the car sat snug against its usual spot.

He killed the engine, drumming his fingers on the wheel once before pushing the door open.

”Alright, light work,” he muttered, nodding to the pile in the back.

The girls each scooped up the smallest bags, Hori balancing one on her hip, Olivia tucking another under her arm, while Izan hoisted the bulk of them, muscles flexing as he slung handles over his wrists like it was nothing.

They crossed the marbled path to the front door, the faintest sound of laughter carrying from inside.

Once the lock clicked, the warm scent of garlic and herbs drifted out, wrapping around them as they stepped into the hallway.

Izan bent, setting the bags down by the couch in a neat stack, exhaling softly through his nose.

Before he could straighten, a head peeked out from the kitchen doorway.

Komi.

Her gaze skipped past Olivia, lingered briefly on the mountain of shopping bags, and then locked squarely on Hori.

”You.”