Football Dynasty

"So, you're telling me that he deliberately took on the buildings and then sold them during the crash to minimize the losses?" Jeff Bezos asked, his eyes narrowing as he absorbed the information.

What he was discussing with Stuart was Richard's feat of amassing his first fortune by buying buildings in bulk in Islington, London.

Sitting on the left-hand sofa, Stuart — who had helped Richard with this for the first time — was equally curious. "To be honest, I was the one who helped him with it, but I was curious myself, so I asked him, and that's what he explained."

"is that so?"

"I had no idea he was thinking so deeply. He could have easily taken a big hit and put himself in a difficult position," Stuart remarked as he relayed everything to Bezos. "If he hadn't sold the buildings in advance, he would have lost at least millions in the crash," he pointed out.

A faint chuckle escaped Richard's lips, but a proud glint lingered in his eyes. He then turned his gaze toward the match, which had now reached the 45th minute, signaling that the first half was drawing to a close.

Richard shook his head and rose from his seat before approaching Marina, who was currently reviewing some documents.

"Is… everything alright?" he asked.

Hearing Richard's unusually formal tone, Marina looked up, amused. "Why are you being so formal with me? Is it because we haven't seen each other for a month?"

"..."

"Ah… about that…" Richard scratched the back of his head.

Only then did he realize that his welcome had felt a little distant—probably because he felt slightly awkward after having asked her to handle tasks beyond her usual work.

Richard sighed and sat down beside her.

"I'm sorry for throwing that work onto you," he said apologetically.

What he meant was asking Marina to pick up Bezos and handle several matters at Maddox Capital on his behalf.

Richard couldn't help but blame himself.

After all, he knew that in the future Marina would become Abramovich's right hand in both football affairs and investment under Millhouse Capital, but that didn't mean he also had to follow in Abramovich's footsteps. Perhaps that was why he instinctively felt a bit of unease around her.

Richard shook his head at this before focusing on the document in his hand.

"By the way, how is Amazon's IPO process coming along? No issues, I hope?"

"Everything is on schedule. The IPO date should be confirmed in the second quarter of this year."

After the explosive growth in just a single year, and with the funding secured from Richard's Maddox Capital, Bezos began to invest with a focus on long-term growth rather than short-term profit. He sought to leverage the internet to build something much bigger, and he was willing to make bold, risky bets to achieve it.

"If only people realize the potential of internet and Amazon, we could have raised even more capital. It's really a shame," Richard lamented, licking his lips in frustration.

According to U.S. stock regulations, when an institution purchases 5% or any integer multiple of the circulating shares in the secondary market, it must "raise the placard" to disclose its intentions.

Therefore, whether it was the purchase of Apple shares or those of other companies, Richard and his Maddox Capital had disclosed their holdings, clarifying that they were making only normal financial investments and had no intention of acquiring the company or seeking a controlling stake.

Maddox Capital is generally divided into two branches: an Investment Company and an Asset Management Company.

The former focuses on equity investments in start-ups and other unlisted companies, while the latter primarily targets investments in real estate and wholly owned enterprises.

Since Apple is already a publicly listed company, it became a target for the latter branch, just like Rover and Adidas.

Amazon, on the other hand, still fell under the scope of the Investment Company, as it only required equity financing rather than a controlling acquisition.

Usually, before an IPO, only founders, employees, and private investors own shares. When Amazon went public, the company created new shares and sold them to the public to raise money. Existing shareholders kept the same number of shares, but because the total number of shares increased, their percentage ownership went down.

"Is there any way to increase my stake?" Richard asked, raising the question.

Heinghis and Marina shook their heads in disappointment. Neither Kleiner Perkins Caufield & Byers nor the early employees and executives who had joined Amazon were willing to sell their shares again, since the IPO was just around the corner.

"As for Jeff Bezos," Marina continued, "he can't sell his shares either, because he needs them to attract and retain talent after the IPO."

Richard nodded thoughtfully. Stock options were a crucial part of every early-stage company's strategy. By granting options to key employees, Bezos could incentivize them to stay with the company and align their interests with long-term growth.

"Is this why he needed that money? Was it very urgent?"

"Yes, very urgent," Marina nodded seriously.

Amazon was growing extremely fast — revenue had jumped dramatically — but rapid growth came with huge costs. Expanding warehouses and distribution centers, hiring more employees, and investing in technology all required substantial capital.

One key fact that people need to understand is that, despite the high sales, Amazon was still unprofitable.

So Bezos needed funding, and that's where Maddox Capital came in. But the question remained: what could he offer in return?

"At the very least, before he could offer shares," Richard said, shaking his head, "now he can't part with his stake. If he wants Maddox Capital to help him expand, what could he possibly offer in return? A loan?"

What a joke!

He would rather leverage his current shares and look for another company to invest in.

At least in the future, when a crisis or market crash occurs, he believed there would be another opportunity to acquire more Amazon shares once the company was publicly listed.

Hearing Richard, Marina shook her head. 'This is exactly what I was about to discuss with you. When I spoke with Jeff Bezos, what he offered us was—'"

While Richard was preoccupied with Marina's arrival and his meeting with Jeff Bezos—long before the latter would become the face of global e-commerce—the atmosphere in Manchester City's away locker room was bursting with enthusiasm.

It wasn't until the 29th minute of the first half that Ronaldo finally found a chance to unleash a shot. It wasn't the cleanest attempt—almost reluctant, even—but the ball slipped past the goalkeeper and into the net. For a moment, even City's players and staff were stunned by the unexpected goal.

But a goal is still a goal. Once the shock passed, they embraced it with unrestrained joy.

The celebrations carried an extra weight, too, because the opportunity had only come from Neil Lennon's sacrifice. He had been brutally tackled in the buildup, opening the space that allowed Ronaldo to score.

Now, the unsung hero sat quietly at the edge of the locker room, his leg being sprayed with painkillers.

Mourinho crouched down in front of him, "Neil… can you still play?"

Lennon glanced up, sweat beading on his forehead.

"I can," he muttered stubbornly, though the pain flickering in his eyes betrayed the truth.

Mourinho shifted his gaze toward Dave Fevre, searching for confirmation.

"He'll manage a few more minutes," Fevre admitted reluctantly, "but if it gets worse, we risk losing him for weeks."

Upon hearing this, Mourinho's jaw tightened. He shook his head sharply. "Frank!" he barked, already signaling for a substitution.

"Wait!" Lennon protested, his voice strained. "I can still play—"

"No." Mourinho's tone was final, cutting through the room like a blade. He crouched closer, his eyes locked on Lennon's. "The season is still long. We don't need to sacrifice you now. Not for one game."

Lennon's protest died in his throat. With a sigh of resignation, Lennon leaned back as Fevre tightened the bandage around his ankle.

After finishing with Neil Lennon, O'Neill stepped into the locker room, shut the door behind him, and raised his voice so every player could hear.

"Is anyone tired?"

Though their jerseys clung to them, drenched in sweat, the players roared back in unison:

"No!"

They had trained for weeks for this very moment—forty-five minutes of pure battle. And now, despite the relentless running and the suffocating intensity, they felt no fatigue. Their energy was still burning, their physical edge unmistakable on the pitch.

O'Neill nodded, satisfied. His voice rang with conviction as he continued:

"Give us 45 more minutes, and we'll break Barcelona. Give us 90, and we'll dismantle them completely! But listen carefully—this second half is dangerous. We cannot let our guard down, not even for a second. One mistake, and it will cost us dearly."

He paced slowly, meeting each player's eyes.

"We may not be the favorites, but today, we show the world: Barcelona is not our master. They are not untouchable. We are stronger, hungrier, and braver! I believe none of you fear them. We created more chances in the first half; they barely struck back. The truth is, the only enemy we face now is ourselves."

The players leaned forward, hanging onto every word.

"Stay sharp. Don't let your mind wander to what happens after we win. Don't let their play dictate your rhythm. Stick to our plan. Execute it with courage, with precision, with heart. If you falter, you'll regret it—not just for yourself, but for the brother standing beside you who has given everything. And I know you won't let that happen."

He stopped, his voice rising for the final blow.

"Because we are…?"

And the locker room thundered back as one:

"MANCHESTER CITY!"