A month ago, the only sponsors’ names I'd had embroidered on my training kit were a couple of supplements companies and a Thai energy drink. Apparently being signed by Barcelona, the world's biggest soccer club, was like getting a turbo boost when it came to picking up endorsements. I had no doubt, though, that my movie star good looks were the main reason that my phone had been ringing off the hook for weeks. It was getting to the point where I knew I was going to have to pick up a management agency to deal with the hassle for me. Running with the ball at my feet was what I was good at – not this. Still, the idea of handing over a percentage of my earnings to someone just so they could answer the phone for me rankled more than a little bit. I didn't see why some leech should get rich on the back of my handsome face, ripped body and skill with a ball. I laughed to myself as I looked through the windshield at what lay before me. "Relax, Alex," I chuckled, "even you’re going to struggle to spend five million bucks a year." Press photographers lined the street outside the entrance to the training ground, which was located where the city met the suburbs to the west of the sea.
What do You think about Hitman's Baby (Mob City Book 2)?
