4 and a half hours later, Carlo's Vantage pulled up outside Leo's building, and Leo got out and grabbed his bag from the back seat.
"Dawson really should have made us take that flight," Leo muttered, stretching a bit.
"Anyway, thanks for the lift," he said, only for Carlo to shake his head.
"Thank you for the goal."
Leo looked at him.
"I didn't assist you."
"No," Carlo said, smiling.
"But you did assist everything that made it possible!"
Leo said nothing to that as Carlo drove away.
After staring out until the car vanished out of sight, Leo turned and walked toward the entrance of his building with his phone out, listening to the voice note Noah had sent.
Noah's voice came through with the energy of someone who had been waiting to say this since the final whistle.
Four one. At Stamford Bridge.
In your third Premier League game. Leo, I've been in this business a long time, and I want you to understand what I'm telling you right now.
You are doing what very few can.
