Max Luckey: The Undisputed Student Billionaire

Chapter 3

The news spread like wildfire. “The beggar is back.” That’s what the school forums, gossip groups, and anonymous message boards all titled their threads. Every student with a phone had either seen the Clorox Bar video or heard about it. Max, bloodied and humiliated. Max, the delivery boy who dared to touch Gina. Max, now mysteriously back on campus.

No one expected him to return, not after that night. They all thought he was injured, or just maybe he was dead.

Yet there he stood, outside his dormitory door, his hand still on the bell after pressing it twice.

The door creaked open slowly.

“Max?” Roland’s voice broke into a whisper, shocked like he was seeing a ghost. “Bro! Where have you been?” Roland grabbed him by the shoulder, looking him over with wide, anxious eyes. “You look like hell.”

Max chuckled weakly. “Feels like it too.”

Roland pulled him in immediately, slamming the door shut behind him. “Man, I was going crazy. I called the hospital, the police—I even thought of calling Sister Grace from the orphanage.”

Just then, the sound of tires screeched outside the dormitory window. Sarah Vernon’s red BMW convertible parked hastily. Trisha Macy climbed out from the passenger side, both girls nearly tripping over each other in their rush up the steps. Moments later, the door flew open.

“MAX!” Trisha gasped, running straight to him, throwing her arms around his neck.

Sarah stood in the doorway, hands on hips. “You had better have a damn good reason for going ghost on us.” But there was a trace of relief in her voice.

Max sat down heavily on the couch as Roland, Sarah, and Trisha all gathered around.

“I—I was just tired of everything,” Max said. “Needed some space. I didn’t mean to scare you all.”

Sarah folded her arms. “We warned you about Gina. Told you she was a social climber. Told you she didn’t care.”

“I know,” Max said, eyes low. “You were right.”

“Well, no more gloom,” Sarah declared, clapping her hands together. “Let’s get you out. Clear your head. There’s a new Italian fusion restaurant that opened near the East Wing. Our treat.”

“No arguments,” Roland said, pulling Max to his feet.

They arrived at La D’Argento, one of the most expensive restaurants near campus. With glass-paneled walls, velvet chairs, and classical music playing in the background, it was where only the rich or bold dared to dine.

Just as their food arrived, the peace was shattered.

Jerry McCormick strode in like he owned the place, Nicolas Herrera and Arnold Bricks trailing behind him like hyenas. Jerry’s smirk widened when he saw Max seated near the window.

“WELL, WELL, if it isn’t the campus clown!” Jerry barked loud enough for the whole restaurant to hear. “Back from your tragic little adventure? Or did you finally find a trash can cozy enough to sleep in?”

Max flinched but said nothing.

Jerry strolled to their table, arms spread in mock joy. “Ladies and gents, allow me to reintroduce Max—future Employee of the Month at Clorox bar.”

Snickers rose from a nearby table. Sarah's eyes narrowed.

“Didn’t you hear?” Jerry continued, spinning theatrically. “Our poor Max here was planning a grand gesture for the queen herself, Gina—yes, Gina! But he couldn’t even afford a decent handbag. Imagine!”

Then he pointed out the window.

“Take a look, Max. That’s what a real man looks like.”

Outside, Ethan sat on a shimmering Ducati bike, Gina pressed against him, both of them laughing while feeding each other ice cream. Cameras flashed as students passed by.

Sarah’s hands clenched under the table. “You’re sick,” she hissed.

“And now,” Jerry continued, “for the big reveal—let me introduce the legend himself!” He swept his hand dramatically toward Arnold Bricks. “Arnold Bricks! The heir to the Bricks fortune. Six international business awards, four national ones. His family is worth six hundred million dollars and he is worth over a hundred million dollars before the age of twenty-five.”

Nicolas leaned in, glowing with pride. “He’s the real deal. The next Elon Musk. Only sexier and richer.”

Roland rolled his eyes. “And what does this have to do with us?”

“EVERYTHING!” Jerry shouted. “Because Mr. Bricks here has decided to add a new treasure to his collection—Sarah Vernon.”

Everyone at the table turned toward Sarah, her face frozen in disbelief.

Arnold gave a lazy smile, licking his lips as though savoring something. “I’ve liked every post you’ve made for the past eleven months, Sarah. I even commented fire emojis. Didn’t you notice?”

Sarah gasped. “Wait—you’re that Arnold Bricks? The stalker from F******k? The one who said I looked ‘edible in red’? The one leaving those nasty comments about my boobs?”

Arnold laughed. “Guilty.”

Nicolas grinned and leaned into Max. “And guess what? Jerry here demanded a hundred grand from Arnold in exchange for helping him get Sarah. And Arnold paid. Up front”

Sarah’s mouth fell open. “You what?”

Jerry shrugged. “What? It’s business. And besides, now that we’re being honest, I was also the one who got Max fired.”

Max’s jaw tightened.

“I called your boss, Mr. Brandon. Told him you were unstable, potentially violent. And I arranged the delivery to Clorox bar myself. I personally requested you delivered it. I Wanted you to walk right into it.” Jerry chuckled. “All for entertainment. And now look at you—back to zero.”

The table was dead silent.

Until Roland exploded.

“You arrogant little parasite—!”

“Careful, Roland,” Jerry cut in with a sneer. “I could have you both thrown out of this school with a single phone call. You forget whose son I am?”

Sarah stood up, her voice cold as ice. “And you forget who our fathers are, Jerry. The Vernons and Macys donate over fifteen million annually to this institution. Don’t think you’re untouchable.”

Jerry waved her off. “Money talks. And Arnold’s willing to talk louder.”

Arnold leaned forward. “I’ll donate twenty-five million to this school—if Sarah agrees to date me.”

The entire restaurant seemed to pause.

Twenty-five million.

Even Jerry looked stunned.

Sarah stared at him. “You think you can buy people like…like…”

“Yes,” Arnold said simply. “Everyone has a price. Even you. And am willing to pay”

Jerry recovered quickly. “In fact, I’ll make the call now.” He pulled out his phone, dialing his father. “Let’s see if he agrees that this kind of generosity deserves a little… persuasion.”

Before he could hit ‘Call,’ Trisha stood up.

“You’re a disgrace, Jerry. And you too, Arnold. You think all women are objects you can bid for.”

“I’m just saying,” Jerry said with a smug smile, “if persuasion doesn’t work, Nigeria’s got voodoo. I hear the Igbo people there make love potions stronger than anything here. I’ll fly there myself if I have to.”

There was a loud gasp from a table nearby.

Roland stood up slowly, his body trembling—not from fear, but fury.

“That’s enough.”

Jerry turned to him with amusement. “What’s the beggar friend gonna do now? Cry?”

Jerry laughed. “Oh yeah? What are you gonna do?”

Roland boiled with anger but Trisha advised him to keep calm. 

“Yeah

, boy. Keep calm!” Jerry added and proceeded to call his father.