All Chapters of Falling For The Captain: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

Alexander Hayes had never been particularly fond of the press.He hated how they could turn a line he spoke in genuine trust into a headline that would follow him for months. He hated the cameras waiting outside his house when he lost badly. Above all, he hated the way people who had never met him thought they knew everything about him.Isabella Reed was different.She was irritating in a way he could not dismiss.Most journalists wanted a quote they could use. Some wanted a photograph. Others wanted to ask him about his private life, in the hope they would extract an embarrassing comment to sell extra copies.Isabella had questioned his honesty.Worse, she had done so without appearing to have the slightest interest in him.Alexander sat in his car outside the club's administrative building, staring through the windscreen as rain trickled down the glass."Problem, Captain?"He turned towards Daniel Brooks, who had just climbed into the passenger seat.His best friend had been at West

Alexander was halfway through his breakfast when Victoria Shaw placed a newspaper on the table in front of him."Have you read this?"He glanced at the headline.It was Isabella's article.Again."I've seen it.""Then you'll understand why we need to discuss your next interview."Alexander put down his fork."What interview?""Isabella Reed has requested another meeting"He stared at Victoria."Absolutely not""Alexander-""She asked her questions. I answered what I could. We're finished.""Your answers were not sufficient for her article""That's unfortunate"Victoria pulled out the chair opposite him."This is not a personal disagreement""Then why does it feel like I'm being punished for it?""Because you're taking it personally".He let out a laugh without humour."She accused me of hiding something.""She asked whether you knew about the payments.""Which I don't""Then say that""I did""And she wants clarification"Alexander pushed his plate away.He hadn't slept. The conversat

Alexander hated losing.He hated it in training, hated it in matches, and hated it most when the defeat had nothing to do with football.On Saturday afternoon, Westbridge drew one-all against a team they should have beaten comfortably.Alexander spent the entire match fighting his own thoughts.His passing was inaccurate. His timing was poor. Twice, he failed to recognise an opening that would normally have been obvious to him.When the final whistle blew, the supporters responded with a mixture of applause and frustrated boos.He could hardly blame them.He had been terrible.In the changing room, Daniel dropped onto the bench beside him.“You look like you want to murder someone.”“I want to murder myself.”“That's considerably less practical.”Alexander pulled off his boots.“Don't.”Daniel's expression softened.“It's one match, Alex.”“One match we should have won.”“And we will win the next one.”Alexander stared at the floor.He knew Daniel was trying to help, but reassurance f

Isabella arrived at Westbridge FC on Monday morning with a clear plan.She would speak to Alexander, establish what he had overheard, and determine whether the conversation offered a verifiable lead.She would not be distracted by his smile.She would not be distracted by his voice.And she absolutely would not be distracted by the fact that she had spent half of Sunday evening wondering what he had meant when he said he trusted her enough to help.The last rule proved particularly difficult when she found him waiting beside the training pitch.He wore the club's black training kit, his hair damp from the shower, and his expression was unusually serious.“You came,” he said.“You asked me to.”“I wasn't certain you would.”“Why not?”“Because you seem to enjoy ignoring my advice.”“I enjoy ignoring bad advice.”His mouth twitched.“Good morning to you too, Isabella.”She stopped beside him.“What did you hear?”He glanced toward the pitch.“Not here.”They walked along the perimeter o

The following week, Isabella discovered that investigating football was considerably easier than investigating footballers.Footballers had schedules.They had training sessions, matches, interviews, and carefully managed public appearances.They also had a remarkable ability to disappear whenever she needed them.Alexander, in particular, seemed determined to make her life difficult.On Tuesday, he arrived twenty minutes late for their meeting because training had overrun.On Wednesday, he cancelled a telephone call because his physiotherapist had changed his appointment.On Thursday, he sent her a message saying he would be available after training, only to inform her an hour later that the manager had called an emergency team meeting.By Friday morning, Isabella was ready to throw her phone across the room.“I hate him,” she announced.Chloe did not look up from her computer.“Of course you do.”“I do.”“That's why you've checked your messages six times in ten minutes.”“I'm waitin