The words had clearly left the server’s mouth. He had said the word Boss , and even now he was still smiling. His tone carried a kind of innocent pride, as though he had done something clever and loyal, but in this room, filled with suspicious eyes and tense silence, it was like throwing oil on a fire.
Everyone’s attention shifted toward the young man standing by the door, but the real weight of the statement pressed down on Max. The server wasn’t smiling at Anton, nor at Sheri, nor at Bobo Stern. His eyes were fixed across the room, steady, respectful, directly on Max.
Mayson, of course, thought he was doing the right thing.
"Boss? What do they mean by boss?" Anton finally asked, his words stumbling out in disbelief. His finger hovered accusingly toward Max, his face twisting as if he had just been insulted. "Is he saying Max is the manager here or something?"
A quiet stillness gripped the room. Sheri shifted in her seat, her hands fidgeting with the edge of the napkin resting in her lap. Sanna’s lips parted, confusion shadowing her eyes, while Darno sat back, his brow furrowed, his mind clearly working at double speed to process what he had just heard.
Max kept his head low for a moment, shaking it slightly, his jaw tight. He was buying himself seconds, precious seconds to think. He wasn’t ready to reveal the truth. Not here, not now, not in front of Bobo of all people. He still had so many cards left to play, so many pieces to move before showing anyone who he really was.
And yet, Mayson had thrown his name out into the open like a banner in the wind.
When Max first entered this restaurant tonight, he had felt a nagging worry. He recognized the building, recognized its walls, the subtle smell of polished wood and expensive wine. This wasn’t just any place, this was one of his.
It was here, months ago, where the clash with the Chalkline Boys had shaken the underworld. This very restaurant was now part of the empire he ran in the shadows, a business tied directly to the Billion Bloodline group. Mayson wasn’t just some random server either, he was one of the students who had once fought under Max’s banner.
Mayson had proven himself tough that day, taking hits that would have dropped weaker men. He hadn’t risen as a fighter in the end, but Max had seen something else in him: a sharp mind, a knack for logistics, and a hunger for the underworld’s thrill. It was why he had been given the manager’s role here. And now, loyal as ever, he had stepped into this room and called Max the one word Max could not afford to be called tonight.
Boss.
"Are you serious about what you just said?" Sheri asked suddenly. Her voice cut the tension for a moment, her eyes wide as she leaned forward across the table. She was focused less on Max and more on Mayson, clinging to the detail that mattered most to her family right now. "Did you really mean it? That you’re willing to give us this meal for free?"
"Of course," Mayson replied without hesitation, still brimming with misplaced confidence. "As I said, anything for the boss!"
The word dropped again like a hammer.
Max’s head snapped up. "Come here." His tone was sharp, his voice carrying a command that made Mayson flinch.
Mayson obeyed instantly, stepping closer until he stood beside Max’s chair.
Max leaned in, his voice dropping to a low growl only Mayson could hear. "Play along." The words came out almost like a threat, cold enough to make Mayson swallow hard. For a brief second, he wondered if he had just ruined something critical.
Pulling back, Max forced a smile onto his face and raised his voice. "It’s nice to see you again, Mayson. It’s been a while. I didn’t think you’d still recognize me."
"Ah... yeah." Mayson stammered, correcting himself quickly. "It’s great to see you too, Bo—Max."
The slip was obvious, and the way Max’s eyes burned into him made Mayson’s throat tighten. He hurried to cover the mistake. "The reason I called him that is because, back in school, Max was the boss of our little group. We all looked up to him."
"Ha!" Bobo’s laugh was short and sharp, dripping with disdain. She placed her glass back down, her eyes narrowing. "You? The boss of a group? Like anyone would believe that."
"Haha, it’s true." Mayson pushed forward, emboldened now, desperate to back up Max’s cover story. "He helped us out tons of times at school. I wouldn’t be where I am today if it weren’t for him. That’s why, now that I’m the manager of this place, I wanted to do something for him. Treating his table is the least I can do."
Sanna blinked, her eyebrows raising. "Wait... if you knew each other at school, doesn’t that mean you recently graduated as well? And you’re already a manager here? You can actually make a decision like this, to clear such a massive bill?"
Mayson shifted slightly, stealing a glance at Max. But he caught on to what Max needed him to do. His lips curled into a half-smile, and he nodded. "Nepotism is quite the thing, isn’t it? I usually don’t admit it, but this restaurant belongs to my family. They put me in this position. But even if they hadn’t, I’d still owe Max more than I can ever repay. Covering tonight is the least I can do."
Bobo stared at Mayson for a long moment, but she couldn’t exactly argue with him. She hadn’t gone to Brinehurst, hadn’t seen what Max’s life there was like. She couldn’t prove he wasn’t who Mayson claimed he was. Still, her disdain didn’t soften, she took another sip of her wine, turning her gaze away.
Sheri, however, sat in stunned silence. Unlike Bobo, she had gone to school with Max. She didn’t know Mayson, not really, but... his words weren’t impossible. She remembered the way people at school had looked up to Max, remembered the way other delinquents from different schools had confronted him directly.
’Could it be true?’ she thought. ’Was Max really someone like that at school, someone with followers? Maybe this Mayson guy was one of them.’
Although she wanted to ask, she bit her tongue. Now wasn’t the time, not when her mother’s finances were at stake. The only thing that mattered was that the bill was no longer hanging over their heads.
"Well then," Sanna said finally, her voice lighter, her smile forced but polite. "I must thank both you and Max for your generosity. To pay for a meal like this... it shows real gratitude."
"Thank you, Mayson," Max said smoothly, though his eyes still carried a warning edge. "I think we’re done here. It’s time for us all to leave."
Chairs scraped against the polished floor as everyone began to rise. No one dared push further.
Max moved quickly, striding out of the room before anyone could corner him with more questions. He knew better than to linger.
Sanna followed shortly after, making her goodbyes to the others who were now drunk on expensive wine and waiting for their drivers. She finally hailed a taxi for herself and Sheri.
Inside the quiet cab, the city lights flickering past the window, Sheri sat beside her mother, waiting for her to speak.
Sanna’s gaze was fixed outside, her reflection in the glass unreadable. Her silence was unusual, heavy.
Finally, she sighed. "Even though it was his friend, it seems Max managed to do something today to help us out." She paused, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly. "These days... he seems a little different than before. It almost feels like he’s hiding something."