From Bullets To Billions Chapter 662: I Know Who You Are

The academic day at June Stone University had finally sputtered to a close, and Max found himself weighing a limited set of tactical options. He had considered sneaking into whatever "mandatory" event the seniors were hosting tonight, but he quickly dismissed the idea. His vibrant red hair was a beacon in any crowd; even with a wig or a hat, his classmates, especially those like Yovan or Steve, would likely recognize his gait or features, and the ensuing scene would blow his cover entirely.

He could attempt to snoop around the perimeter of the venue, watching from the shadows to gauge the atmosphere, but Max surmised that whatever was happening was designed for internal consumption. Whether it was a ritualistic hazing session or a standard degenerate party, they would only want the participants to know the true nature of the evening.

This left him with a singular choice: let the event play out as scheduled. He would simply gather intelligence afterward by questioning Rick or another member of the Bloodline group who was "obligated" to be there. Whatever systemic abuse or tradition Donto was perpetuating had likely been going on for years; Max doubted that skipping a single night would drastically alter the long-term trajectory of the university’s power structure.

Rather than heading back to the campus dorms, however, he decided it was best to remain out of sight. According to the story Sylan was currently peddling, Max was supposed to be in a hospital bed. Being spotted wandering the campus quadrangles would instantly invalidate his ruse.

This led him back to a place where he felt a rare sense of groundedness: the Fortis Group building. It was the unofficial headquarters of the Billion Bloodline group, a fortress of steel and glass where he was the apex predator rather than a freshman student.

"Oh, Sheri? You’re still at the desk? You’re working rather late today," Max noted as he walked through the lobby.

"Yeah, I’ve got the night shift," Sheri answered, looking up from her terminal with a tired but professional smile. "I swapped with one of the other staff members who had a family emergency. How has the prestigious university life been treating you, Max?"

Max leaned against the marble counter and scratched the back of his head, a genuine look of fatigue crossing his face.

"Honestly, I’m not sure it’s for me," he admitted. "The politics of the classroom are more exhausting than the politics of the street. I might end up quitting soon anyway."

"Right, because you think you can solve everything with your fists," Sheri said, her tone halfway between a joke and a lecture. "You’re lucky to be who you are because of the Stern family name, but maybe you should just try and take this seriously. See if you can actually do something else with your life besides looking for a fight."

A part of Max genuinely wondered about that. He had been granted a second chance at life, a cosmic reset, and yet he was practically approaching it with the exact same violent pragmatism as his previous life. Could he ever truly learn to forgive those who had betrayed and killed him? Or was he destined to repeat the cycle? After everything he had done in his past life, he supposed he couldn’t have expected his journey to end peacefully; very few gangsters ever retired to a quiet life in the countryside.

However, Max knew deep down that he could never move forward without knowing the and the behind his own murder.

"I’ll promise to try not to solve every problem with my fists," Max claimed, his voice quiet. "I know that sometimes using them leads to people getting hurt around me, people who never expected to be caught in the crossfire."

Sheri assumed the comment was pointed at her, as she had already been caught up in two separate, problematic experiences since he had re-entered her life. But the truth was that Max was thinking of more than just her. In his previous life, he hadn’t cared much about collateral damage, but in this new existence, he had been forced to forge connections with people he never expected to value. The results were often heavier than he wished on them.

"I’ll take your advice. I mean it," Max said, pushing off the counter and heading toward the elevator. He was ready for a few hours of undisturbed rest in his private suite.

"Max," Sheri called out after him. She didn’t turn around to look, her eyes fixed on the empty lobby in front of her. "You... you were the one who bought me the necklace, weren’t you?"

Max’s footsteps stopped abruptly. A heavy, pregnant silence filled the lobby for several long moments.

"How long have you known?" Max finally asked, his back still turned to her.

"It hasn't been that long, really. And to be completely honest, your response just now has confirmed the suspicions I've held for some time," Sheri stated, her voice betraying a slight tremor. "A member of the Stern family is working here as a common guard, yet the deference shown by the senior staff indicates your immense importance to this establishment.

"But I convinced myself it was impossible. The Max I once knew, the one I was betrothed to and attended classes with, was perceived as a failure. At least, that's the self-deception I employed to ease the pain of losing you when everything unraveled. Why else would the Billion Bloodline group offer such substantial assistance? And why would you continuously appear just when danger loomed? It all began to fall into place.

"I simply wanted to express my gratitude. Thank you for all that you've done, irrespective of my past harsh treatment. If I had the opportunity to revisit those times, "

"That's enough," Max interjected, his tone firm yet gentle. "Let's refrain from dwelling on events beyond our control. I entered that arrangement concerning your family's enterprise as a strategic investment. Their performance has improved, and the brand is indeed regaining its footing, correct? It was a prudent financial decision, nothing more. However... I do appreciate you being there for Max during his times of genuine need."

Sheri found his use of the third person when referring to himself slightly peculiar but chose to overlook it, given the already surreal nature of the situation. Max, on his end, was extending his thanks because he recognized that in her own peculiar, imperfect manner, she had attempted to extricate the original Max from difficulties during their shared school years.

"Ah, there is one final detail you should be aware of," Sheri mentioned as he moved towards the elevator. "Darno visited earlier, requesting that I arrange an urgent meeting with 'the boss.' When I inquired who precisely he meant, he replied, 'Max, naturally.' That was the definitive element that solidified my realization."

A flicker of clear annoyance crossed Max's features. A serious discussion with Darno regarding future discretion was imperative; the man constituted a significant security risk.

"It wasn't solely Darno, though," Sheri added. "Joe, Stephen, and Wolf... they have all requested audiences as well. They are awaiting your arrival upstairs."