The Rejected Corps might have been furious behind closed doors, but when it came down to it, they were stuck.
They couldn’t act.
Not really.
Because at the end of the day, they needed Max and Wolf.
Which meant, for now, Max got to sit back and reap the rewards of everything he’d set in motion.
On his walk to school that morning, Max’s phone buzzed nonstop. Notification after notification lit up his screen, sales, transactions, digital receipts, it was endless. Business was booming. So much so that after a while, it got annoying.
Max sighed and shut the alerts off, his thumb hovering over the screen for a second before opening a chat.
[Warma, send me a summary at the end of each day from now on. I’ll check profit and loss then.]
He needed a break from micromanaging every tiny sale. Besides, there were bigger moves on the board.
But one thing still lingered in the back of his mind, like a dull ache, he’d spent a significant chunk of money recently, investing in a string of gyms around West Brinhurst. It hadn’t been a light decision. It was risky.
Painfully risky.
Still, Max had used the winnings from his little gamble at the black market before his fight with Rick. That money had kickstarted the whole thing. Even so, he could feel the power drain. When your abilities were tied to your bank account, every expense came with a cost.
He just hoped it would all pay off soon.
What Max didn’t realize was how massive the wave of sales would become over the next few days, how much everything was about to snowball in his favor.
By the time he reached school, the weight of everything, the stress, the fights, the deals, the constant strategizing, had finally caught up to him.
He slumped into his seat, letting out a low breath. Maybe today, he could finally take it easy. Just for a few hours.
As he leaned forward on the desk, resting his arms, he felt something strange beneath the tray slot.
A note.
He didn’t even have to pull it out to know what it was.
Another cheesy joke.
He opened it anyway.
"What do you call a werewolf YouTuber? A lycan-subscribe!"
Max stared at it in disbelief.
’She’s still putting these here? Even after everything I’ve said? How do I get that girl to just... go away?’
He sat there trying to come up with methods, petty, immature ones. Maybe calling her names. Maybe acting meaner. Maybe saying she was too clingy. But none of them felt like they’d work. Not on Abby.
She wasn’t the type to back off. That much was clear.
By the time lunch rolled around, Max had accepted that he wasn’t going to get any real rest today. The group decided to head to the canteen like usual, and just as they sat down, the moment of peace shattered.
Like clockwork, the three girls slid over to their table, uninvited but completely confident.
"What are you three doing here again?" Max muttered, pressing the palm of his hand to his forehead. "Did it sound like I wanted you around all the time?"
He didn’t even bother looking up as he spoke.
"Hey, Max, we all know you’re trying really hard to be an arse on purpose," Cindy replied with a smirk. "Or maybe... this is just the real you finally showing through."
She tilted her head, her tone playful. "Either way, we’re gonna sit where we want. You don’t like it? Tough."
Max groaned internally.
From the looks of things, she wasn’t wrong.
When he glanced across the table at Joe and Jay, both of them looked like they’d been hit with a stun grenade. Their mouths hung open slightly, cheeks flushed red, eyes fixed on the girls like they were in a trance.
’These goddamn horny teenagers,’ Max thought bitterly. He didn’t bother saying it aloud. Instead, he stabbed into his lunch with more force than necessary and started eating aggressively.
Abby, as usual, sat directly across from him.
"Abby," Max said between bites, his voice flat, "do me a favor and stop putting those dumb notes under my desk."
He still didn’t look at her.
"It’s annoying. And you’re killing trees. Didn’t anyone ever tell you where paper comes from?"
There was a moment of silence.
And even without looking up, Max could feel the energy shift in the air. He could feel the heat of her glare. Somehow, without even meeting her eyes, he could see the vein throbbing at the side of her forehead.
Yup. She was not happy.
"You’re the person who punches people in the face," Abby said, narrowing her eyes, "and you’re the one preaching about saving the trees?"
She leaned in slightly across the lunch table. "If you really care so much about trees, Max, why don’t you just go becomeone?"
"No, for real," Cindy chimed in, voice lowering as if she were about to reveal some schoolyard secret. "I’ve heard rumors too. You know, apparently Max and Abby are bipolar with each other. Like, not to use the word lightly, but students say one second they’re arguing in the halls, and the next... they’re acting all sweet."
"Well," Cindy continued, "people say when Abby’s carrying a bunch of heavy books, Max just walks over without saying anything and helps her carry them to class. And apparently, they’ve been seen just staring at each other during breaks."
The word hung in the air, strange and slightly surreal. They had started noticing things around school, whispers, stares, the occasional hush when Max walked past, but Boss? That still felt off, like something out of a movie.
How had Joe of all people not figured it out sooner?
"Can you do me a favor? Just... keep it up," Max said. "Watch over her. I don’t think anything will happen, but it’s better to be safe."

After all, Chad had done it once already. Somehow, he’d known about Max and Abby’s relationship, and he’d used it when it suited him. If Chad was still desperate, still broke, still backed into a corner, there was every chance he’d try it again.
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