From Bullets To Billions-Chapter 92: Catching My Eye

The ballroom, where the auctions were taking place, was massive. At least six hundred guests filled the space, constantly moving from one area to the next. Between the chatter, the waitstaff, and the auction calls, most people didn’t even notice when something unusual happened.

Most people, but not Daz.

From the very beginning, she’d been focused on something entirely different. Sure, the other reporters chased trends, snapping photos of the usual celebrities and high society drama.

But the ones who made a name for themselves? The ones people looked up to and remembered? They set the trends. They captured moments no one else noticed. And that’s exactly what Daz was hoping to do tonight, with Max Stern.

"Oh... he’s finally moving," Daz said, her eyes narrowing behind the camera. She had been watching Max closely the entire time, noticing the tension in his posture, the way his jaw clenched, his knuckles tightening.

Now that he was walking, headed somewhere with purpose, her heart skipped. Something’s about to happen.

"Hey, looks like I might’ve found something after all," Daz whispered.

"Well, they’re some of the youngest in the Stern family. It’s no surprise there’s some drama. If anything, I feel bad for the poor girl," Hag said, shaking his head.

"Sheri Curts, right?" Daz asked. "She’s the daughter of Sanna Curts, who’s hosting all of this."

"Right," Hag replied, glancing in their direction. "So... do you know why the tension between them is so thick?"

Daz shook her head.

"I know the Curts family ran into financial trouble after Sheri’s father passed away. He was a people’s person, someone who could charm anyone into believing in him. He had a way of convincing others he’d succeed and pay them back if needed. But when he died... all of that trust vanished. The Curts family’s influence crumbled, and now they’re struggling."

"Exactly," Hag said. "That story only got brief coverage in the news. But there was something interesting about Sheri. As you said, her father was that persuasive. So persuasive, in fact, that Dennis Stern agreed to let the youngest Stern heir, Max, marry Sheri. But after her father passed, her mother called the whole thing off. It’s not hard to guess why, without the father, there was no benefit in tying their family to Max."

Daz nodded slowly, the pieces starting to click.

No wonder there’s tension. Maybe Max still had feelings for Sheri... or maybe it was something else. Either way, it made things a lot more interesting.

"For someone who told me to stop focusing on Max," Daz smirked, "you sure know a lot about his life."

"I’m just covering all angles," Hag replied coolly.

****

Chad had stood up from his seat now, locking eyes with Max across the table.

"What are you doing here, Max?" he said, his voice sharp. "Trying to ruin my night? Sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong?"

"It’s a fundraising event," Max replied, keeping his tone steady. "On behalf of the Curts family. And I don’t think getting their underage daughter so drunk she can’t stand is a particularly smart move, especially after she already told you no."

"No? Are you saying I’m forcing her?" Chad shot back. "She can do what she wants, I’m not exactly shoving drinks down her throat."

Max scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief.

"But you might as well be," he said coldly. "You know exactly what her position is, right? I know you probably took your IQ test in the bathroom stall of a McDonald’s, but I didn’t realize you were this dense. You know the kind of power your position gives you over her."

Chad’s lips curled into a smile as he leaned in close, whispering into Max’s ear.

"And is there any problem with that?" he murmured before pulling back.

"Women flock to us the moment they realize we’re Sterns. That’s just how it is. Every relationship is a give and take, so I take what I want, and they get what they want in return. I don’t see the issue. Sheri’s only talking to me because she wants my money, right? Then why shouldn’t I have a little fun? It’s not like she has other options."

He laughed, loud, smug, and unbothered.

But his laughter was cut short.

Sheri stood up, reaching for Max’s forearm. Her fingers curled around it, and Max instantly felt it, how tense his entire body had become.

"He’s right," Sheri said softly. "And... I’m fine with it."

Her head was lowered, her voice barely a whisper. But Max saw it, a single tear that slid down her cheek and fell silently to the floor.

"What are you still doing here?" Chad scoffed. "She already told you, she knows exactly what’s going on. Thankfully, she’s one of the more honest ones. Hey, I’ve got an idea, Max. Since you’re so generous, why don’t you use your money to help her?"

He leaned in again, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Oh right, I forgot... you can’t touch any of that money, can you? If you can’t use it... might as well hand it over to me."

Chad started laughing again, mechanical, smug, and completely unbothered.

"You could try to hit me again, like last time," he said, his voice calm but condescending. "But it won’t change a thing about your situation, Max."

He didn’t say the next part out loud, but it echoed in his thoughts like a victory chant: I own you.

Across the ballroom, Sanna had noticed Max stepping in between Sheri and Chad. Her brows furrowed, concern, or perhaps annoyance, flashing across her face as she started to march over.

Only for someone to suddenly step in her way.

"Ah, excuse me, ma’am. Would you like a drink?" Aron said, holding out a tray with perfect poise.

Sanna moved to step around him, but Aron smoothly blocked her path again.

"Or perhaps some snacks?" he offered cheerfully. "Since you’re hosting, it’s only right I help serve you."

Every time she tried to sidestep, Aron was there, smiling, polite, and perfectly in her way. And because of the guests watching nearby, Sanna was forced to bite her tongue rather than snap at him.

Max, Aron thought, his eyes never leaving Sanna. I’m leaving this to you. Remember what I said, don’t act out. Not here. Not when everyone’s watching... at least, not in public.