From Bullets To Billions novel Chapter 349

Chapter 349: Confrontation in the Lobby

When Max turned toward the voice, he already knew who it belonged to. Recognition was instant. That arrogant tone, sharp, grating, the kind of voice that oozed entitlement, he could have picked it out from a crowd of thousands. And sure enough, standing right there at the reception desk, dressed in his flashy suit and smug expression, was the same man who had nearly run him over moments ago.

The same man who had sped recklessly into the zebra crossing, brakes screeching at the last possible second.

This damned idiot, Max thought, his jaw tightening as heat crept up the back of his neck. He’s not only alive and well, but he actually works here? And now he’s strolling into reception, barking orders, like he owns the place. Did he really come down here just because he couldn’t be bothered to take his own car to a garage?

His blood boiled hotter the longer he looked at him. Max hadn’t even had the chance earlier to properly teach him a lesson. The man had fled in his expensive car, throwing money like scraps at a beggar. And now, here he was again, standing just a few feet away, arrogance radiating off him in waves.

The man’s sunglasses caught the lobby lights as he sneered. "What the hell are you guys doing?" he snapped at the guards. "A stupid kid is standing here in reception, and you’re having trouble turning him away? Since when did we become a kindergarten? We’re already a laughingstock, and now you’re letting anyone just wander in?"

His voice rose, booming through the glass-and-marble lobby. "Get him out of here. Now. Drag him out with your bare hands if you have to!"

The guards exchanged uneasy glances. Under the weight of his order, both moved toward Max, their boots clicking against the polished floor. But just as they reached out, Max’s eyes blazed. His voice cut through the air like a knife.

"Don’t you dare."

The words weren’t shouted. They weren’t loud. But the raw conviction behind them was enough to make the guards freeze mid-step.

"If you lay a single hand on me," Max continued, his tone steady and cold, "you’ll regret it."

A tense pause followed. For the first time, doubt flickered across the guards’ faces. The arrogance they’d carried earlier was replaced with hesitation.

They remembered.

They remembered the viral video that had nearly destroyed Fortis, where one of their men had lost his temper during a public showcase and punched a fan square in the face. The footage had spread like wildfire, sparking outrage and shattering the company’s carefully constructed reputation. Ever since, every guard had lived under a shadow of caution.

And now here was this boy, young, yes, but not exactly easy to place. He could be a teenager, or he could be an adult who looked young. One wrong move, and they could find themselves at the center of another scandal, dragged across every social feed in the city.

One of the guards cleared his throat, voice strained. "Look, kid... can you just leave? Don’t make this harder for everyone. Stop giving us a headache."

Max’s chest rose and fell, his patience finally reaching its breaking point. "I haven’t even said anything yet!" he snapped, his voice ringing across the lobby. "I came in here, barely opened my mouth, and from the second I stepped inside, all I’ve heard is insults. Mockery. Laughter. You think you’re professionals? You’ve done nothing but act like children."

The atmosphere thickened. The receptionist stiffened behind her desk, her hand frozen above the phone.

Then the suited man stomped his polished shoe against the marble with a heavy crack. His voice was venom.

"Listen here, you little piece of shit!" he spat, his sunglasses sliding slightly down his nose, revealing eyes brimming with hostility. "This place is for serious business. Not clowns like you. So either get out on your own, or I’ll drag you out myself. And while I’m at it, I’ll give you a pounding you’ll never forget."

Max stared at the polished floor for a long moment, his fists clenching tight in his hoodie pocket. That was the final straw. In the underworld he had once ruled, threats like that weren’t made idly. To threaten someone’s life, to threaten to erasetheir identity, that was as serious as it got. And such words were never forgiven.

The receptionist, Suzie, suddenly felt ice creep down her spine. She had seen this before, Darno, one of their more volatile employees, letting his temper run wild. And from the look on his face, he wasn’t bluffing. He really would attack the boy right here in the middle of the lobby.

Her heart hammered in her chest. She grabbed the phone receiver, her hands trembling as she dialed an internal line. If Darno exploded, the company’s fragile reputation would be finished. Not again, please not again, she begged silently. Into the phone she whispered urgently: "We have a situation. Send someone down. Now."

And then, a sudden ding cut through the tension.

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