Max Luckey: The Undisputed Student Billionaire

Chapter 4

Dr. McCormick arrived at the restaurant less than ten minutes after receiving Jerry’s call. He burst in with urgency, his face tight with concern—but not for the right reasons. His suit jacket flapped as he made his way to the table where his son stood waiting, surrounded by Sarah, Trisha, Max, Roland, and, at the head of the table, Arnold Brick.

“What’s going on here?” Dr. McCormick asked, eyes scanning the tense group.

Jerry stepped forward with a satisfied grin. “Dad, you’re not going to believe this—Arnold Brick here just made an offer that could change the fate of the school.”

Arnold didn’t rise, but he gave a nod of acknowledgement and crossed one leg over the other, calm and composed.

Jerry continued, “He’s offering twenty-five million dollars to the school’s account. But there’s a condition. Sarah has to agree to date him.”

Dr. McCormick raised his brows, taking a moment to process. “Twenty-five million?”

Arnold clarified, “A wire transfer. Straight to the school's development fund. No gimmicks.”

Dr. McCormick’s eyes gleamed for a brief moment before flicking to Sarah. “And all he’s asking for... is a relationship with you?”

Sarah’s eyes flared with disbelief. “You can’t be serious.”

Dr. McCormick turned to Arnold again. “Is this just a date, or are we talking about something more... intimate?”

Arnold gave a small smirk. “She’ll know what to do when the time comes.”

The principal turned back to Sarah, his expression tightening. “Look, Sarah, I know this might sound... unsavory. But you need to consider the bigger picture. This isn’t just about you. With that money, we can open three new labs, fund scholarships—students like Max and Roland could benefit directly.”

Trisha’s mouth dropped open. “Are you actually suggesting she prostitute herself for the benefit of the school?”

Dr. McCormick didn’t flinch. “I’m saying that one night of sacrifice could solve problems for hundreds of students.”

Sarah pushed back her chair and stood. “This is disgusting.”

Dr. McCormick raised a hand. “Just think it over.”

“No,” Sarah said coldly. “You’ve already made yourself clear.”

Trisha chimed in. “If you think for one second we’re going to keep quiet about this, think again. I’ll call my father tonight.”

Sarah added, “So will I. I’m sure the school board would love to hear how their principal supports coercive sex-for-donation deals.”

Dr. McCormick stiffened at that. His lips parted, but Arnold raised a finger.

“Enough,” Arnold said calmly. “You’re free to make your calls. But before you do... perhaps it would interest you to know just how deep this rabbit hole goes.”

He looked at Trisha, then Sarah. “Your fathers—Marcus Macy and Damion Vernon—are currently under the direct employment of the Brick family. My family.”

Both girls blinked. The confidence in Arnold’s tone left no room for doubt.

Arnold continued, “They’re in the middle of executing a hundred-million-dollar contract with us. And they’re also currently bidding on a three-hundred-million-dollar international project that Brick & Sons is overseeing.”

Sarah paled. “You’re lying.”

Arnold’s smirk widened. “Am I? Why don’t you give Daddy a call and ask him how many meetings he’s had with Brick board executives this quarter? Or much better talk a look at this.” Arnold pulled out his phone, and showed Sarah and Trisha pictures and documents to provide his claims.

Trisha looked at Sarah, her confidence shaken. Arnold wasn’t bluffing.

Arnold leaned forward, his voice low and deliberate. “So here’s what I’m offering now. I came here for Sarah. But now that I’ve seen you both—why not make this a two-in-one deal? Sarah and Trisha. Both of you. I can upgrade the donation if needed.”

Trisha gasped. “You’re insane.”

Arnold ignored her. “You have two hours. That’s it. Meet me at Délurex Grime.”

Sarah’s lips parted. “That hotel?”

“Yes,” Arnold said. “Presidential suite. Top floor. Come dressed for the night. I’ll make it worth your while. But if you don’t show up... those contracts your daddies are praying for? They’re gone. And your families will suffer the fallout.”

He stood, adjusted his coat, and threw one last look at the table. “Tick-tock, ladies.”

As Arnold walked off with confidence radiating from every step, the room fell silent.

But Dr. McCormick wasn’t finished. He stepped forward again, looking directly at Sarah and Trisha.

“And just so you’re aware,” he added sharply, “your failure to attend tonight will result in immediate consequences.”

Sarah turned to him, face cold. “Are you threatening us now?”

“I’m stating facts,” he replied. “Max and Roland,both of them—will be expelled. By morning.”

“What?” Roland jumped from his seat.

“You can’t do that!” Trisha exclaimed.

“Oh, I can,” Dr. McCormick said. “You’d be surprised how quickly disciplinary actions move when someone like me signs off.”

Then, without another word, he turned on his heel and followed Arnold out of the restaurant.

For several seconds, the group sat in stunned silence.

Nicolas was the first to laugh. “Wow. That escalated.”

Jerry clapped his hands once, slowly. “Brilliant performance. Honestly, Sarah, if you had just taken my offer in the first place, you wouldn’t be here, humiliated, watching your friends get thrown under the bus.”

Sarah glared at him. “You’re pathetic.”

Nicolas snorted. “You’ll be singing a different tune when your family’s bankrupt. Or when your scholarship buddies here are crying outside the dean’s office.”

Jerry smiled darkly. “Anyway, I don’t think I need to go to Nigeria anymore. Looks like my problems solved themselves. I’m done wasting time.”

He gave one last mocking glance at Max and Roland. “No one’s coming to save you.”

Then Jerry and Nicolas walked out, smug and triumphant, leaving behind a table full of confusion, humiliation, and despair.

The restaurant air grew heavier with each passing second.

Max continued eating in silence, eyes down, unfazed by everything that had just happened. Fork to mouth. Calm.

Sarah stared at her untouched drink, her hands trembling slightly. Trisha looked close to tears. Roland’s fists were clenched, knuckles white.

The

 four of them were left alone—with no rescue in sight.