𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓭𝓪𝓾𝓰𝓱𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓸𝓯 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓵'𝓼 𝓶𝓪𝓭𝓻𝓲𝓭𝓼 𝓬𝓸𝓪𝓬𝓱..

𝓑𝓪𝓻𝓬𝓮𝓵𝓸𝓷𝓪 𝓶𝓪𝓽𝓬𝓱 | 𝓢𝓟𝓐𝓘𝓝 -10am I’m the daughter of Carlo Ancelotti, the head coach of Real Madrid, and growing up in this world of football, I knew everything about competition, intensity, and rivalries. But there was one thing I didn’t expect: Joao Félix.

My dad has always had a strong opinion of him—he thinks he’s too annoying, too cocky, and way too debochado for someone on such a big team. That’s why, when I found out that Real Madrid was going up against Barcelona today, I knew exactly what was going to happen. There was no way Joao and I weren’t going to lock eyes across the field.

The match was about to kick off, and I was in the stands, sitting with my family, but my focus kept drifting to Joao, who was on the other side of the pitch. Our teams were fierce rivals, and there was no love lost between us. I could feel his gaze from across the stadium, and sure enough, he was staring right at me, his eyes sharp, filled with that competitive edge he always carried. I couldn't help but stare back, anger flashing in my eyes. He was no different than the last time we crossed paths—competitive, arrogant, and always looking to one-up me.

But there was something else in his gaze too. Beneath the rivalry, I could tell there was something else there—a flicker of attraction that he probably wouldn’t admit to. He hated me, yet I could see the way his eyes lingered for just a second longer than necessary.

I rolled my eyes, trying to ignore the flutter in my chest. He may find me attractive, but I wasn't about to let that distract me. This was more than just a game; it was a battle of pride, and I wasn’t going to let him get under my skin.