The line connected, but neither one spoke. Finally, Max broke the silence, his voice barely above a whisper.
"I lost." A deep sigh came from the other end. "I don't blame you, Max. Your personality... it's exactly like your father's." Max remained silent, those words stirring up memories he'd long tried to forget. The voice on the phone continued, "Now that you've admitted defeat, it's time to come back to the Norman family. You need to take up your responsibilities." Max closed his eyes, feeling the weight of those words. He'd run from this for so long, but now it seemed there was nowhere left to go. "Tomorrow," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "After I sign the divorce papers, I'll be back." "Alright," came the reply, followed by another stretch of awkward silence. Max felt a lump forming in his throat. All the pain and humiliation of the night came crashing down on him. "I'm sorry, Grandpa," he choked out, years of regret and longing in those simple words. "I know, son. I know," his grandfather replied, his voice warm with forgiveness. "We'll talk more when you're home. Get some rest now." The next morning, Max arrived at the civil affairs department early, steeling himself for what was to come. To his surprise, July and Greg were already there, waiting with smug expressions. "Couldn't wait to sign those papers, could you?" Max said coldly, eyeing the couple. July's lips curled into a sneer. "You're right about that. Let's get this over with." As they entered the civil affairs department, heads turned and whispers erupted. A young clerk at the front desk gasped audibly. "Oh my god, you're July Winters!" she exclaimed. "I loved you in 'Midnight in Paris'!" July smiled graciously, while Max felt himself shrinking under the scrutiny of the staff. Another clerk leaned over, eyeing Max with barely concealed disdain. "Is this... your husband?" she asked July, her tone suggesting she couldn't quite believe it. Before July could respond, Greg stepped forward, puffing out his chest. "Not for much longer," he said smugly. "I'm Greg Hartley, of the Hartley Media Group. July and I are here to... rectify a mistake." The clerks' eyes widened at the name drop. Greg leaned in conspiratorially. "We'd appreciate your discretion in this matter. Wouldn't want this getting out to the press, you understand?" The first clerk nodded eagerly. "Of course, Mr. Hartley! We completely understand." She turned to July, her voice dripping with sympathy. "You poor thing, having to put up with... well." She glanced at Max. "You're doing the right thing, honey. You deserve a real man, someone from your world." Greg chuckled, placing a possessive hand on July's waist. "Don't be too hard on him, darling. Not everyone can be born with looks, talent, and money." As they exited the office, the clerks gathered around, cooing over July and Greg. "You two make such a gorgeous couple!" one gushed. "The new power couple of Hollywood, I'm sure!" Another clerk nodded enthusiastically. "Much better than..." she trailed off, eyeing Max with pity. "Well, you know. You deserve each other!" Max clenched his fists but remained silent as they were ushered into an office. The next thirty minutes passed in a blur of paperwork and thinly veiled insults. "You know, Max," July said as she signed the last document, "I should thank you. Dating you showed me exactly what I don't want in a man. Ambitionless, broke, and... well, let's just say unremarkable in every way." Greg laughed. "Come on, July. Don't be so hard on the guy. I'm sure he's got... some redeeming qualities. They're just, you know, really well hidden." Max gritted his teeth, forcing himself to remain calm as they exited the building. Outside, July's smug smile grew even wider. "Thanks for agreeing to the divorce, Max," she said, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "If I'd stayed with you, I never would have become a movie star or been able to afford such a nice car." She gestured proudly to a gleaming red Ferrari parked nearby. Greg whistled appreciatively. "Now that's a car befitting a star. Unlike that rust bucket you drive, eh Max? Oh wait, you don't even have a car, do you?" July laughed, and the sound grated on Max's ears. "Oh Greg, be nice. I'm sure Max could afford a car... if he saved up for, what, ten years? Twenty?" "You're right, I'm being unfair," Greg said with fake sincerity, trying to control the situation. "I'm sure the tips are great at that dive bar. Hey Max, maybe if you work really hard, one day you'll be able to afford to be a valet for cars like this." Max snorted and shook his head. "You know, July, I always knew you were shortsighted, but I didn't realize you were completely blind too. Blinded by money and shiny things, that is. I'm just glad that I divorced you." July's face turned red with anger, and she jabbed a finger at his chest, her words dripping with venom. "You think I'm blinded by money? No, I just finally opened my eyes to what a loser you really are. You'll always be nothing, Max. Nothing but a small-time bartender with big dreams. At least I had the sense to get out while I could." Max opened his mouth to respond, his hands shaking with anger. But before he could say anything, something unexpected happened. Suddenly, there was a loud screeching noise. Max looked up, shocked. A big SUV was speeding down the street, heading right for July's new car. July's smug smile turned into a look of horror, while Greg stood frozen, his mouth wide open.
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"This is the list for available artists," Ivan muttered, throwing the file in his hand on the desk casually. "Take your pick." His attitude was full of arrogance, and it was obvious he was throwing his weight around now that he was in charge of Max’s affairs. But the latter did not seem bothered by his attitude and simply picked it up, flipping the pages open to take a look. After some time, he looked up again and pointed to a name amongst the list. When Ivan looked down and saw who it was, his face instantly changed. "What? Marianne? Who put her on the list? She's my artist. Choose someone else." Max gave him a scrutinizing look and retorted simply, "She's the one I want." "What do you mean she's the one you want!?" Ivan was about to blow his top in anger. Just then, the door of his office opened, and Marianne entered right in time. She stood by the door, hesitant, and faced Ivan. "You wanted to see me." Ivan nodded, beckoning to her. "Yeah. Come over here." She looked towar
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"Claire?" Max called out in surprise, and she spun around immediately when she heard his name. She looked surprised to see him standing there, but it was only for a moment before she looked at herself and the drunk man hankering about her, and a look of utter mortification crossed her face. The man who grabbed her didn't seem to care that there was a third party and continued to hanker, "Why the attitude, huh? Chris already gave his approval. You think you can last in this industry without pleasing us directors?" Claire’s lips curled in disgust, and she yanked her arm away from his grip. "So what if I can, you slimy old geezer? Do I look like some young girl you can prey on? Do I look like some naive starlet you can toy with? Take your filthy hands off me, you creep!" "You bitch-" The director looked even more furious when he heard that, and he reached out to grab her again. But Max was faster and directly pulled Claire over to his side, giving him a backhand slap. Probably, it w
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Blue Lagoon Bar Max swung his car into the bar's garage, the quiet purr of the engine cutting out as he stepped out. The cool evening breeze tugged at the black-on-black outfit he wore—a tailored shirt and slim-fit trousers - simple yet unmistakably expensive. He adjusted his cuffs, a faint smirk playing on his lips as he strolled toward the bar entrance. When he entered, he found his former boss, Sam, waiting by the door for him with two assistant managers beside him. When Max entered, they all stared at him in a mix of shock and awe - Max had really hit a jackpot. He went from an ordinary bartender to a noveau riche out of nowhere. Even though he wore a simple black on black attire, it wasn't hard to tell that they couldn't have been cheap out of the market. "Eh, Max. It's really you!" One of the two managers leaned forward, blinking hard. "You've really changed." The second manager chimed in, still trying to process the sight in front of him. “Man, you’ve changed. If I didn’t
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The secretarial section was empty when Max got to the top floor of the company, so he knocked on the door of the presidential office directly. “Come in,” Lawson’s voice echoed from inside. Max twisted the handle and strolled in, shutting the door behind him with a soft click. The secretary standing before Lawson paused mid-report, glancing briefly at Max, who made himself comfortable on the sleek leather sofa in the middle of the room. Lawson barely looked up, simply brushing over the secretary’s report, and it was obvious he didn’t want Max to hear what was being said. “That’ll be all. Leave it here.” The secretary nodded, placing a folder on the desk before making his quiet exit. Once the door clicked shut, Lawson turned his attention to Max, an exaggerated look of surprise washing over his features. He stood up and took a seat opposite Max, throwing his coat over the second sofa. “Well, well! If it isn’t our rising star,” he chuckled, slapping his thigh theatrically. “I sho
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"I didn't expect that this new manager is quite skilled," Max heard one of the members of the legal team mumble as he approached the meeting room. "Yeah, I simply thought he was fooling around that time he followed us. Who knew he was actually scheming?" "Yeah. So much evidence. Who knows how long he has been tailing that man to have found out so much? He even dug so deep that he found things that Richard himself would have forgotten." "Better be wary of such scheming people." Max merely chuckled to himself when he heard that and strode into the meeting room. His gaze found the speaker, and he muttered, "Don't worry, I'm not a rabid dog who goes around biting other people. As long as you don't cross my path, don't be too wary of me." The man instantly gave an awkward laugh when he heard that, and the rest of the room chuckled, except Ivan, of course. "Just saying..." Max took a seat and looked toward Ivan, who sat with his legs crossed and folded his arms. He was giving Max a p
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In Apex Villa, Somewhere in between the livecast, Noah had sat up again and was now watching intently. Once it eventually came to close and the Thompsons were escorted away by the police, he leaned back, folding his arms and stared at the figure in black shirt and white pants languidly striding out of the hall without a word. Meanwhile, Lauren and Jasper were still speechless at the sudden turn of events and everything that just happened. "What a dramatic turn of events!" Jasper finally broke the silence, slapping his thighs as he leaned back in his seat. “Richard was a full-on creep this whole time? He was the one behind everything, and yet he went around blaming you, Noah. Crying in front of the cameras like he was some victim. I swear, I didn’t see that coming.” Lauren’s eyes darted toward Noah, brows furrowing. "Did you know about it? That he was the culprit?" Noah sighed, shaking his head slowly. "No. Not the full story." He thought it had been a simple case of Richard
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