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The second half of the training match didn't last long. Allegri called it off after less than fifteen minutes.
But those fifteen minutes were enough for André to fully demonstrate his freakish physical talent and understanding of football.
Still, match experience was something he clearly needed to develop. The Juventus defence, marshalled by Chiellini, shut André down completely in the second half, denying him any real opportunities. The midfield duo of Matuidi and Bentancur paid close attention to him as well, tracking his every movement. As a result, André couldn't find another chance to help the substitutes equalise.
Allegri, however, was thrilled.
In his view, the reason André couldn't break through after the first team's targeted defence wasn't a flaw in the boy himself—it was the complete lack of chemistry with his substitute teammates. They didn't know his runs, couldn't anticipate his movement. Put him with players who actually understood him, and the results would be terrifying.
More importantly, there was one thing Allegri had appreciated from start to finish: no matter what adversity the team faced or what difficulties André encountered personally, the kid stayed calm. Always calm. Always looking for solutions rather than forcing the issue.
That kind of mentality was essential for a player's success.
Allegri had practically run to find the general manager after training, phone in hand with video footage of André's performance. Giuseppe Marotta watched it all, nodding occasionally, but when Allegri finished his pitch, he was doused with cold water.
"It's not the right time to buy him," Marotta said.
"Why not? Now is the perfect time—before everyone else discovers him."
"His relationship with Cristiano makes it unsuitable for us to propose a purchase right now. Besides, he's only sixteen. I agree he's a genius, but he has a long future ahead. If we spend a huge amount now, we're essentially gambling."
Allegri frowned. "What does Cristiano have to do with anything?"
"Max, you have to remember why we bought Cristiano in the first place—I was the one who pushed for that deal. But there's something we can't ignore: Cristiano's age. Our contract with him runs four years. We need to consider what he'll be like after four years, as well as his salary demands. The relationship between André and Cristiano is something we cannot avoid politically." Marotta paused. "Of course, I'll make an offer to Oviedo. But I don't agree with paying a premium for a sixteen-year-old, no matter how talented. Barcelona saw his potential and offered ten million, then walked away. That tells you something about where the market values him."
Allegri understood the reasoning, even if he didn't like it. But as he left the office, he couldn't shake the feeling that they were missing out on something special.
After training, Cristiano drove them home. André could tell his cousin was in an excellent mood—practically buzzing with excitement.
"Kid, you were so cool out there today," Cristiano said, grinning. "If Mum could've seen your performance, she would've been so happy."
André smiled. He knew exactly what Cristiano meant.
"By the way," Cristiano continued, "I saw Allegri rush off right after training. I think he's very interested in you."
"Really? No way."
"It's very likely. If I were the head coach, I'd want to sign you too. No wonder Hierro insisted on taking you to Oviedo back then." Cristiano glanced over. "If Juve wanted to buy you, would you come?"
"I don't know," André said honestly. "But I really want to stay at Oviedo first. There's still so much I need to learn there."
"That's fair. We'll let Jorge handle it when the time comes. For now, let's go tell Mum the good news."
André could feel that Cristiano's happiness for him was genuine. The bond between them had always been strong—Cristiano had been like a father figure to him for as long as he could remember, stepping into that role naturally after André's own parents passed.
Back at the house, Aunt Maria listened to Cristiano's description of the training match with growing emotion. By the time he finished, tears were streaming down her face.
"Oh, God," she whispered, pulling André into a tight hug. "Your mother can finally rest in peace. She would be so happy to see what you've achieved. I promised her I would look after you, and now... now I can finally be at ease."
"Thank you, Auntie," André murmured.
Maria released him and turned to Cristiano. "You're the older brother. You have to keep taking care of him."
Cristiano groaned. "Mum, you've been saying that for years. I already take good care of him!"
"Uncle!"
Mini came bounding into the room, face scrunched with accusation. "You promised to teach me boxing! I couldn't find you anywhere today!"
"Hey, buddy," Cristiano said, crouching down, "Dad can teach you too—"
"No! I want to learn from Uncle!" Mini crossed his arms stubbornly. "I saw Uncle's video. It was so cool!"
Everyone burst out laughing.
Meanwhile, back in Spain, Fernando Hierro wasn't having such a pleasant evening.
Marotta hadn't been bluffing. Within hours of training ending, an official offer had landed on Oviedo's desk: 10.5 million euros for André—exactly half a million more than Barcelona's previous bid.
Less than five minutes after Hierro learned about the offer, his phone rang. He didn't need to check the caller ID.
Banches.
The conversation went exactly as Hierro expected. The owner wanted to sell; Hierro refused. They went back and forth, voices rising, until Banches finally relented—for now.
But Hierro knew the truth. By the end of the season at the latest, André would no longer belong to Oviedo. The writing was on the wall.
What puzzled him was why Juventus had made an offer at all. He guessed it had something to do with André's vacation in Italy, but he didn't know the details.
Later that evening, he called André directly and learned the full story.
"You need to come back to Spain," Hierro said firmly. "The more you train there, the more attention you attract."
"Understood, Boss. I'll head back after Cristiano's next match—he's playing Milan away, and I promised I'd watch."
Hierro accepted that. "Fine. But no more showing off at Juventus training sessions."
"No promises."
The rest of André's time in Italy was quiet. He still trained at Juventus, but separately from the first team now—basic fitness work on the side, nothing that would draw further attention.
The trip's finale was Cristiano's away match against AC Milan. André watched from the stands as his cousin put on a typically dominant performance, scoring a goal as Juventus cruised to a 2-0 victory. Their unbeaten run continued.
The day after the match, André boarded a flight back to Oviedo.
It had been a good trip. Educational. But now it was time to get back to work.
The Segunda División wasn't going to wait.
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