The city of Madrid was slowly waking up, but inside the hotel, silence reigned.
After the wild celebrations, the exhaustion had finally caught up with everyone.
Izan sat on the balcony, the cool morning air doing wonders for his aching body.
The golden sunrise painted the skyline in warm hues, the quiet contrast to last night's chaos almost jarring.
He exhaled, sipping from a glass of warm water, the condensation dripping onto his fingers.
His phone buzzed on the table.
Miranda: Izan… Valencia's situation is improving. Fast.
He blinked.
For weeks, it had been nothing but uncertainty. Whispers of financial struggles, potential exits, and a growing storm behind the scenes.
But now… was there really a chance that everything could settle?
Before he could respond, another message arrived.
Miranda: They're doing everything to keep you.
Izan stared at the words, a slow breath leaving his lips.
A possibility. A path forward. Hope.
Then, another text.
