2025-05-13 16:57:32Dr. 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.
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Chapter 10
Jacob scoffed so loudly it echoed through the entire room. The sound was mocking, theatrical. He leaned back on his chair, arms spread across its back like he owned the place. “Come on,” he said, his eyes darting around the room for validation, “you don’t expect us to believe that is a real Class 3X bag, do you?”Everyone’s attention shifted back to Max, who stood quietly beside Trisha, holding the now-unwrapped bag. The lights gleamed against its metallic accents, but the room was caught in a strange silence, waiting for someone else to say something.“Let’s be real,” Jacob continued, standing up this time, feeding off the silent tension. “You can get a fake copy for what—ninety bucks? Maybe less if you know the right streets.”Low laughter trickled around the hall.Max didn’t move. His eyes stayed low. The rain had stopped, but the wetness on his shoulders had soaked into the air around him.Trisha stepped forward. “Jacob, shut up.”It was sharp. Everyone turned toward her now.“I d
Chapter 9
Trisha’s heels tapped nervously against the marble floor. The party was in full swing, glittering lights reflecting off champagne flutes, laughter bouncing across the tastefully decorated event hall—but her mind was elsewhere.She stared down at her phone for the fifteenth time in ten minutes.No reply.No call.No Max.She frowned and dropped the phone on the table beside her. The anxiety clawed at her chest. Max wasn’t just a friend. He was different—sincere, pure, and honest in a way most people weren’t. She had expected him to be there early, maybe even waiting for her at the door with one of those shy smiles and a gift wrapped in paper too modest for the grand venue.Instead, she was met with silence.“Sarah,” she called. “Have you seen Max?”Sarah, dressed in a midnight blue gown, shook her head. “Not since class this morning.”“Roland?”Roland looked up from his seat, a glass of orange juice in hand. “Nope. Nothing.”Trisha sighed and adjusted the sash of her peach-colored gown
Chapter 8
Andrew emerged from the deputy manager’s office, grinning with pride. The deputy had promised him that the contract was as good as signed. With the change in Apex Imperium’s management, Andrew had seen an opening to squeeze his way in. He believed his charm and the deputy manager’s loyalty had secured his deal.“The new CEO signs it this morning,” the deputy had said. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure it’s your contract—no one else’s.”Andrew strutted out of the office like he owned the building. He didn’t notice that, a few floors above, someone else was finalizing more significant documents than a mere contract. Max, still slightly rattled from his earlier encounter with the guards, was seated inside the manager’s office, pen in hand. His signature flowed across the pages: contract after contract, deal after deal. He was now officially the CEO of Apex Imperium, inheriting the Luckey family’s empire in full swing.Dorothy, the general manager, sat across from him with a professional smile
Chapter 7
The night breeze rustled lightly against the fabric of Trisha’s dress as the group strolled toward Sarah’s car. Their laughter still echoed faintly from the events inside the club, especially from the sight of Arnold—once the uncontested peacock of the campus—reduced to a janitor wielding a mop in shame. Trisha had even joked that someone should paint the scene and auction it off as a symbol of poetic justice.As they neared the car, Trisha’s phone vibrated. She instinctively pulled it out of her designer clutch, still riding the wave of amusement from the night. But the moment her eyes scanned the screen, the laughter died in her throat. Her expression soured.Sarah immediately noticed. “What’s wrong?” she asked, her voice lined with concern.Trisha swallowed, holding up the phone for them to see. “It’s the Fashion Class 3X bag,” she said in a low voice. “It’s... gone. Out of stock.”Max, Roland, and Sarah looked at each other, puzzled.“Out of stock?” Sarah echoed. “But I thought yo
Chapter 6
The moment Max’s voice cut through the music and murmurs, it was as though the entire club paused. Arnold slowly turned to face him, his eyes squinting in disbelief, as though he couldn’t quite process what had just been said.“What did you just say?” Arnold asked, stepping forward. His voice was calm, but his face betrayed his rising fury. Red crept up his neck and into his cheeks like boiling water.Max didn’t flinch. “I said it’s never going to happen.”The audacity of the statement sent a wave of gasps through the room. Even the DJ momentarily lowered the volume. All eyes were now on the two men—one, a self-declared king of the club, the other, a boy who had just spat in the face of that kingdom.Arnold’s jaw twitched. “Who the hell do you think you are?” he barked, his voice rising, teeth clenched.He turned to the rest of the room, arms outstretched. “Look at this fool,” he said with a twisted grin, trying to save face. “This nobody dares challenge me? ME?”He turned sharply bac
Chapter 5
The atmosphere in the restaurant was unnervingly quiet, so much so that it felt like no one else existed within its polished walls. The soft hum of ambient jazz from the ceiling speakers barely registered; even the waitstaff moved silently, gliding past with practiced grace as though trying not to disturb a funeral.At a round table tucked into a dimly lit corner, four students sat in heavy silence.Sarah and Trisha exchanged panicked glances, their hands clutching their phones like lifelines. Each glance at the screen reminded them how little time they had left—just two hours. That was all it would take for their entire world to fall apart. Everything they had built—status, friends, power—would be gone. With one phone call, Arnold Brick could dismantle their family influence like it was nothing but a sandcastle before the tide.“I can’t believe it’s come to this,” Sarah said quietly, her voice shaking. “Two hours, Trish. That’s all we have.”Trisha nodded, biting her lip. “He’s reall
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
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
Chapter 2
The screen of Max’s cracked phone glowed dimly in the rain-soaked darkness, its light flickering like a dying star. It buzzed again in his trembling hand, the name Mr. Brandon blinking on the caller ID. With everything inside him screaming, aching, breaking, Max answered.“MAX!” The voice on the other end exploded with fury.“I…I delivered the…”“Don’t talk, just listen.” Mr. Brandon’s voice was sharp and cold. “What the hell did you do? The client’s furious. He said the package was smeared, bent, and you were late! He left a one-star review, called you ‘the definition of street trash’ and ‘a bumbling lowlife. Worst of all you punched our client?’ Max… that was a premium client. Our biggest. You just ruined our reputation for a damn package.”Max remained silent, water dripping down his brow and into his bruised eye.“You’re fired. Do not come back. Ever.”The call ended.Just like that, the little stability Max had left was gone. He stood still for a moment under the relentless rain.
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