Max Luckey: The Undisputed Student Billionaire

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 really going to do it. Arnold isn’t bluffing. You saw the documents.”

Roland sat beside them, restless. His leg bounced up and down under the table, and his eyes, bloodshot from lack of sleep, darted across his thoughts. Unlike the girls, he wasn’t from a powerful family, but Arnold’s threats struck him hardest of all. If Arnold went through with his threats, Roland’s scholarship, the one thing he had earned on his own, through sleepless nights and hard work—would be gone.

“I can’t lose my scholarship,” Roland muttered, mostly to himself. “It’s everything I have.”

The tension was suffocating until the familiar clicking of cutlery against ceramic snapped everyone’s attention to the far end of the table.

Max.

He was calmly slicing into a thick steak, steam still rising from the plate, as though he were immune to the panic around him. He hadn’t said a word about the situation since they arrived at the restaurant. In fact, he hadn’t even acknowledged it. He simply ordered food and waited. Now, with everyone on edge, he was eating.

“Max,” Roland said sharply. “Are you seriously eating right now? Don’t you understand what’s happening?”

Max looked up, unfazed, his expression neutral. He chewed, swallowed, then reached for his glass of water.

“I do understand,” he said flatly. “Better than all of you.”

Sarah frowned. “Then why aren’t you saying anything? This is serious!”

“It is serious,” Max agreed, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “But panicking won’t solve it. Eat something. You’ll need your strength.”

“Strength?” Trisha repeated, incredulous. “In thirty minutes, my family’s contract will be canceled. My dad will lose his business. My mom might get arrested for breach of trust. And you want me to eat?”

Max leaned forward, looking Sarah and Trisha both in the eyes.

“Arnold’s bluffing,” he said calmly. “He doesn’t have that kind of power. Not really.”

“But we saw—” Sarah began.

“I said he’s bluffing,” Max interrupted. “Finish your food. You’ll see.”

Silence fell again. But this time, it was laced with confusion. Max’s tone hadn’t been arrogant. It had been confident. Resolute.

After another long minute, Trisha spoke again.

“I can’t take the chance. I say we go to Délurex Grime. We beg. Swallow our pride and just beg.”

Sarah hesitated, then nodded in reluctant agreement. “We can’t let our families suffer. I’ll beg if I have to.”

Roland looked between the two, then sighed. “Alright. Let’s go. We’ve got thirty minutes left.”

They stood from the table in unison, chairs scraping softly against the tiled floor. As they made their way to the exit, Max lagged behind.

“Wait,” he said suddenly. “Give me a minute.”

Trisha blinked. “Now? Max, seriously?”

“I need the restroom,” Max said. “It’s important.”

“Are you kidding me?!” Sarah snapped. “We don’t have time—”

“Two minutes,” Max insisted. “That’s all I need. I’ll meet you at the parking lounge.”

Frustrated but unwilling to argue further, they agreed and left.

Once alone, Max made his way to the restroom, locked himself inside a stall, and pulled out his phone.

He scrolled quickly through his contacts and tapped a number labeled Grandma.

The phone rang once. Twice.

Then, a firm, familiar voice answered.

“Maxwell? Are you alright?”

“Grandma,” Max said quickly. “I need your help. Now.”

He explained everything. How Arnold Brick had threatened Sarah and Trisha’s families. How Roland’s scholarship was at stake. How Arnold had orchestrated a public spectacle to humiliate them all. And then he mentioned something that caught her full attention.

“I saw a company name in the documents he sent them,” Max said. “Brick & Sons. It was on the list you showed me—under our family holdings.”

There was a pause.

“Yes,” she said. “They manage one of our minor logistics firms.”

“So Arnold Brick’s dad works under us?”

“Essentially, yes,” she confirmed, her voice growing colder. “Why?”

“Because he’s trying to bankrupt our allies and ruin my education. I want you to shut them down. Bankrupt the Brick family. I want them to taste what it feels like to lose everything.”

Her answer came within seconds.

“Consider it done.”

The call ended.

A few minutes later, as Max stepped out of the restroom, he received a text message from his grandmother.

“It is done.”

Max smiled grimly.

By the time he rejoined the group at the car, his expression was unreadable.

“Everything okay?” Roland asked.

“Perfect,” Max replied, getting into the car. “Let’s go.”

Délurex Grime was buzzing when they arrived—neon lights painted the streets, and the pulsing bass of club music echoed out from inside. Max, Sarah, Trisha, and Roland walked with urgency to the front desk.

“We’re here to see Mr. Arnold Brick,” Trisha told the concierge.

The concierge checked a list, then nodded. “He’s expecting you. Clubhouse, second floor.”

They made their way upstairs, hearts pounding.

The doors to the clubhouse swung open, revealing a scene of indulgent decadence. Flashing lights, booming speakers, laughter, and glasses clinking—it was a celebration.

Arnold Brick sat on a velvet couch surrounded by bottles of champagne. Jerry McCormick and Nicolas Herrera stood by him, grinning like hyenas.

Arnold’s eyes met theirs, and a slow, dismissive smile crept across his face. He raised a glass in mock salute.

Jerry pointed two fingers at Roland, shaped like a gun, and mouthed, I told you I’d get your girl.

He turned to Arnold. “Didn’t I promise you? Sarah, all yours, bro.”

Nicolas grabbed the mic from the DJ and shouted over the music, “Ladies and gentlemen, the king of the club has arrived! Everything tonight is on Arnold Brick!”

Cheers erupted.

The humiliation was sharp and instant.

Trisha, Roland, and Sarah walked to the center of the room and dropped to their knees.

“Please,” Trisha begged. “Just don’t take our families down. We’ll do anything.”

“Anything?” Arnold asked, tilting his head with a smirk.

Sarah nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. “We’ll get you other girls. You don’t need us. There are dozens of girls in school who would kill to be seen with you.”

Arnold’s smile widened.

“No,” he said. “I want you two. For a month. You’ll be my whores. I’ll have you anytime I want. Day or night. That’s the only deal.”

Gasps filled the room.

Max stepped forward, his

voice slicing through the air like a blade.

“That’s never going to happen.”