BILLION DOLLAR SHOT

Chapter 7 – Checkmate Moves

Monday Morning – Titania Headquarters, 10:02 A.M. Andre sat in a sleek glass office, staring across the table at four different representatives each wearing a billion-dollar smile. On the table lay five black folders. Each bore the name of a global brand:

Nike

Adidas

Puma

Gatorade

NovaFuel (a rising sports nutrition empire)

Clive stood by the window, arms folded. “We don’t have to rush,” Andre said, calmly flipping through the paperwork.

The NovaFuel rep leaned forward. “Actually, we’re prepared to offer $8 million upfront for a three-year exclusive. Media appearances optional. You’d be the face of our new elite line Corbin Charge.”

The Nike agent laughed softly. “That’s cute. But let’s talk real numbers. We’ve got $12.5 million and a capsule line ready to launch.”

Adidas countered: “$15 million. Lifetime kicks. And your own global tour.” Andre leaned back. “And what if I say no to all of you?” The reps blinked.

The room fell quiet.

Andre looked at Clive. “We done here?” Clive smirked. “For now.”

Outside Titania HQ – 11:17 A.M. Andre exited the building, sunglasses on, hoodie up. A crowd waited, snapping pictures, chanting his name.

That’s when a car screeched to a halt. Teanna jumped out. Makeup flawless, belly flat. “STOP!” she screamed, cameras turning.

Andre froze only for a second. “What now?” he asked flatly. “I just want to talk,” she said, breathless. “Please. Alone.”

“You’re lying about the baby.”

A flicker of something crossed her face surprise, guilt, or both. 

“You don’t know that.”

“I do. You see, the difference between me now and me before…” Andre leaned close, voice low, “…is that I’ve got people watching you.”

Click. A dozen phones caught the moment.

“You wanted the spotlight back,” he whispered. “Enjoy it.”

He turned away. Teanna screamed after him, her voice shaking. “You think you’re untouchable now? Just wait, Andre! They’re coming for you!”

That Night – Video Call With His Mom She appeared on screen, cozy in her robe, sipping tea. Andre exhaled.

“I didn’t sign any deals.”

She smiled. “Because you’re thinking long-term.”

“There’s pressure coming from every direction. They want me to choose. Now.”

His mother’s voice softened. “When they push, don’t flinch. When they trap, don’t react. You hold power they don’t understand.” Andre looked into the camera.

“That’s why everything’s in your name.” She nodded. “Because they can take fame. But not family.” Elsewhere – A Secret Boardroom Reznov sat in a dark room with five men. Clive was not among them.

“He won’t break,” Reznov growled. “You were wrong.”

One man lit a cigar. “We said pressure first. Then isolation. Then exposure.”

A different man, bald and quiet, placed a folder on the table. Inside: Photos. Documents. Medical records. Fake contracts. A forged drug test.

“Plant these at the right time,” he said. Reznov glanced at the name on the file: Andre Corbin – Confidential. “This,” he grinned, “will break him.”

Three Days Later – Titania vs. Roma Knights (Champions League Match) It was one of the biggest games of the season. The stadium lights blasted like sunfire. Cameras everywhere. Andre was fire. He sliced through defenders. Scored once. Assisted twice. Commentators screamed his name.

But then… As he walked off the pitch, sweat pouring, reporters swarmed the sidelines with breaking news.

A voice shouted: “Corbin, care to comment on the leaked documents?! Drug usage? Contract tampering? You’ve just been suspended from international play pending investigation!”

Andre turned slowly.

“What documents?”

The reporter waved his phone. Dozens of images forged medical reports. A fake email “proving” Andre paid for a banned substance. Legal contracts with forged signatures.

He blinked. Around him, the cheers turned to murmurs. The cameras zoomed in. The narrative flipped in real time.

Clive’s Office – 1 Hour Later Andre sat in silence. Clive placed the documents in front of him.

“They’re fake,” Andre said.

“I know. But the federation doesn’t.” Andre clenched his jaw. “This isn’t about the game anymore.” Clive leaned forward. “No. It never was.”