The next morning, Milanello was half empty. The starters from Thursday's Coppa Italia match had been given a light regeneration session, while the rest prepped for the upcoming Sunday league fixture against Bologna.
Luca arrived early — not because he had to, but because he always did. That part hadn't changed.
What had changed was the smile Ancelotti gave him when he walked past.
"You'll be on the bench again Sunday," the manager said. "If things go well, I may give you the last thirty. Keep your legs fresh."
Luca nodded, but the fire in his chest burned stronger than ever.
---
He headed toward the cafeteria where the usual suspects were already crowding the tables — Pirlo with a newspaper, Gattuso complaining about the lack of proper espresso, and Kaká devouring a bowl of cereal like it was the food of gods.
"Morning, future captain," Kaká called, sliding a chair out beside him.
Luca sat down and reached for a croissant.
"What's the headline today?" he asked, nodding toward Pirlo's Gazzetta.
Pirlo smirked and turned the page.
> "Iron Reader Holds the Line — Bellini's Tactical IQ Anchors Milan Win"
"It's a day late, but worth the wait," Kaká teased. "They say you play like a 30-year-old in a 19-year-old's body."
Luca shrugged. "They don't know how much I overthink everything."
"Overthinking makes you good. Feeling makes you great."
"Did you just quote your diary?" Luca smirked.
"Don't mock the scriptures," Kaká grinned.
---
That afternoon, after training, the squad was invited to a private lunch hosted by a local sponsor. It was meant to be casual — a way for the players to show face, shake hands, and pose for a few cameras. But for Luca, it was a test of a different kind.
Social terrain.
He wasn't shy, but he wasn't exactly a natural in large crowds either. Conversations at Milanello were fine. Tactical debates? He could do that. But small talk with club executives and wine glass in hand?
Uncharted territory.
Kaká stayed near him, introducing him to various faces.
"This is Luca — reads the game like he wrote it."
Luca shook hands, smiled, nodded at the right times. He said just enough. And when the topic turned to the previous night's clean sheet, he simply said:
"It was a team win. My job was the easy part."
Later, Ambrosini caught him alone near the patio.
"You're handling this better than I did," he said. "First time I got invited to one of these, I spilled wine on Maldini's shirt."
Luca laughed. "I'm just trying not to stare at the silverware."
Ambrosini leaned in. "You've got balance, kid. Don't lose it."
---
On Saturday, the final tactical session for Bologna was sharp and intense. The starting eleven went through patterns of play while the second unit — which included Luca — rotated in for short bursts.
The plan was clear: protect the midfield, force Bologna wide, win the second balls.
---
Sunday — San Siro: AC Milan vs. Bologna
> "It's Matchday 3 in the Serie A season, and AC Milan are riding the high of a flawless start — two wins, no goals conceded. Carlo Ancelotti sticks to his preferred 4-3-1-2 formation tonight."
> Milan: Dida; Cafu, Maldini, Nesta, Pancaro; Gattuso, Pirlo, Seedorf; Kaká; Inzaghi, Shevchenko.
> Bologna: Pagliuca; Zaccardo, Castellini, Daino, Lanna; Colucci, Amoroso, Nervo; Bellucci, Cipriani, Signori.
The match began in a storm — Bologna pressed high, and Milan responded with class. In the 18th minute, Pirlo sent a diagonal ball over the top, Shevchenko brought it down with a sublime touch, and tucked it past Pagliuca with a cold-blooded finish.
1–0 Milan.
---
By the 65th minute, Milan led 2–0. Gattuso had bulldozed through midfield and forced a turnover that allowed Kaká to finish a clean one-on-one.
Ancelotti looked to the bench and called Luca over.
"You've got twenty-five. Maldini rests. You control the back."
Luca jogged onto the pitch with calm energy. The cheers weren't overwhelming, but they were enough. They meant he mattered.
---
> "Another runout for Luca Bellini — a few more minutes under the lights. He's starting to look like a permanent fixture in Ancelotti's rotation."
Luca kept things simple — two clearances, a smart offside trap that caught Cipriani sleeping, and one crisp vertical ball into Kaká's feet that got a grin in return.
The match ended 2–0. Another clean sheet.
Three games. Three wins. Zero goals conceded.
---
After the final whistle, the players began their warm-down laps around the pitch. Luca was halfway around when he spotted Sofía in the second row, waving gently.
He slowed just enough to catch her eye and tilt his head toward the tunnel — a signal.
---
She met him in the usual place behind the east stand, where security rarely patrolled. He was still in his kit, sweat-soaked and flushed, but she didn't seem to care.
"You're getting taller every game," she said.
"I haven't grown in years."
"You look like you have."
They leaned against the cold concrete wall. The stadium still echoed faintly behind them. A few cars rumbled past outside.
"I read the article," she said, pulling a folded page from her coat. "The 'Iron Reader' thing again."
"I hate it."
"I love it."
There was a moment of silence.
"Do you ever write about me?" she asked suddenly.
Luca blinked.
"In your notebook. Your system."
He looked at her. Then out toward the street. Then back at her.
"Sometimes," he said softly.
Sofía didn't press.
Instead, she nodded once, like that answer was enough.
"Do you want to get something to eat?" she asked.
"I should shower."
"I don't mind the smell."
He chuckled.
"Then let's go."
---
Later that night, after dinner and a quiet walk through the cobbled streets near Navigli, Luca returned home, opened his notebook, and wrote:
> September 14 — Milan 2, Bologna 0
25 minutes: clean, sharp, safe
No goals conceded in 3 matches
Coach: satisfied
Kaká: rhythm is syncing
Sofía: asked about the notebook
Maybe I'm more obvious than I thought.