Marco's words echoed in his head, a beautiful, brilliant, and utterly insane symphony of madness.
"He wants to offer you a new job, Leo. He says… he says he has made a terrible mistake."
The phone was still in his hand, Marco on the other end, breathing with the heavy, emotional weight of a man who had just witnessed a miracle (and was already calculating the commission).
"A mistake?" Leon finally managed to say, his voice a disbelieving squeak.
"He sacked me! He sent a man in a suit to fire me like I was a middle manager who'd messed up a spreadsheet! And now he's made a 'mistake'?"
"LEO! MY BOY!" Marco roared, his passion returning in a tidal wave.
"This is not a mistake! This is a correction! A beautiful, cosmic correction! He saw you! He saw your magnificent, muddy, seventh-tier heroes! He saw the goal! He saw the passion! He saw the story! And Flavio Briatore, my boy, is a man who understands one thing: a good story is priceless!"
