Leon, feeling slightly star-struck, sat down opposite him. "It was... a fight, sir," he said, the words feeling completely inadequate.
"It was a masterpiece," Marotta corrected him with a smile. "A masterpiece of heart. And you, my boy, were the artist who painted the final stroke." He leaned forward, his expression turning from warm to one of shrewd, professional focus. "Your coach tells me you have attracted some... attention. From England. From Spain."
Leon just nodded, unsure what to say.
"This is normal," the President continued. "When a lion is born, all the other animals in the jungle take notice. And make no mistake, that is what you are. A young lion, with the potential to be the king." He paused, letting the words sink in. "We know they will come for you. They will offer you mountains of gold. They will promise you the world."
He took a sip of his water.
"We cannot offer you the world, Leon. We can only offer you a kingdom. Our kingdom."
