Chapter 380: The Dead Beat (Part 1)

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Chapter 380: The Dead Beat (Part 1) Darno sat stiff in his chair, his mind spinning as he tried to piece together what he had just learned. None of it made sense to him. Until today, what he knew about Max was simple: Max was a representative of the Billion Bloodline group, a rising venture capital firm with deep pockets and growing influence. Sanna had invited him tonight as part of this celebratory dinner, that much was clear. Everyone else seemed convinced Max was just an intern, but Darno had never believed that. The way Max carried himself, the way others deferred to him, it didn’t add up. And now, on top of that, Anton had blurted out in front of everyone that Max was from the Stern family. So that girl, Bobo, and Max... they’re related? Darno thought, his frown deepening. It must be true if no one denies it, not with her sitting right here. But then why is Max working for the Billion Bloodline group at all? The Sterns have their own investment empire. Why would one of them crawl into another firm, especially as an intern? And more importantly, why does a Stern know how to fight? Darno clenched his jaw, remembering the sparring matches and the way Max had handled himself. He fights like someone who’s had to survive. That’s not the upbringing of a pampered heir with a diamond spoon in his mouth. Unless... maybe Anton was right. Maybe Max really is the outcast. Cast aside by his own family, forced to prove himself through the Bloodline. That would explain everything. Darno nodded faintly to himself, almost as if he’d solved a puzzle, though in truth he was only weaving a story that felt neat enough to satisfy his confusion. Meanwhile, tension crackled across the table. Sheri, who had been sitting quietly until now, finally spoke up. "How could you say something like that to our guest?" she snapped at Anton, her voice firm despite her polite tone. "Max just graduated. He’s already working for a reputable company. If you’re calling him a deadbeat, then what does that make me? I want an internship there too. Are you saying you’d see me the same way?" Anton tugged uncomfortably at his collar, realizing too late how his insult might have sounded to Sheri. He opened his mouth to backpedal, but Bobo’s voice cut across the room like a knife. "Well... it’s true." Every eye turned toward her as she lifted her glass, took a delicate sip of wine, and then swirled the liquid slowly, watching the crimson swirl. "Max hasn’t done anything worthy of the Stern family name," she continued. "No one expects anything from him. He has no support, no recognition, no weight behind his name. The expectations within the Stern family are extremely high, and Max meets none of them." Her words carried no hesitation, no softness. They were sharp, direct, and delivered without the courtesy of sugar-coating. The reason was clear enough. Bobo had come tonight hoping to meet someone with actual decision-making power within the Billion Bloodline group, someone who could listen to her proposals and carry them forward to the Chairman. Instead, she had been seated across from Max, the last person she wanted to deal with. An "intern," and worse, one who bore a family name she felt he didn’t deserve. To Bobo, asking him for help was pointless. She might as well march into the Bloodline offices herself and speak to a secretary. At least that would feel more official. Her disdain wasn’t just personal, it was ideological. By her words and her tone, it was clear she believed the Stern family were born into a higher class of existence, people destined for power and prestige. For Max to sit at the same table, to carry their name without embodying their standards, was shameful. Her remarks stung, though no one challenged them directly. Sanna shifted in her seat, hiding her irritation behind a practiced smile. Sheri lowered her eyes, biting her lip. Both women knew what Bobo said wasn’t entirely untrue. Their own family business turned over millions, they had chains of influence, but even they relied heavily on the giants above them, families like the Sterns. And at the end of the day, Sanna knew which relationship she needed to prioritize. Keeping favor with Bobo was far more valuable than standing up for Max. Max, however, only chuckled softly and leaned back in his chair. "Right, right. I’m the deadbeat. And yet... here we are, sitting at the same table tonight." Bobo didn’t even bother to respond. She looked away, dismissing his words as meaningless. The awkward silence that followed was broken when the first course arrived. Several servers swept into the room, their polished trays carrying steaming dishes and plates dressed with delicate arrangements. The table filled with the quiet clink of cutlery and the aroma of fine cooking. Conversation returned, though it stayed cautious, brittle. Then Bobo’s eyes caught on something across the table, a faint glimmer that drew her attention. "That necklace," she said suddenly, tilting her chin toward Sheri. "It’s rare. Hard to come by, in fact. I didn’t realize the Curts family still had that kind of buying power, or those kinds of connections." Sheri reached up, fingers brushing against the cool jewel that rested against her collarbone. "Oh, this? It isn’t something we bought. It was a gift, from the Billion Bloodline group." Bobo’s brows lifted slightly, though her expression remained composed. Inside, however, her intrigue sharpened. So the Bloodline group was generous enough to hand out expensive gifts like that, even to the Curts? That meant their influence and reach were even greater than she had imagined. If they could provide treasures like this on a whim, then they were a group worth keeping close. Without hesitation, Bobo leaned toward the menu and ordered the most extravagant wine available: a bottle priced at ten thousand. As if that weren’t enough, she added several more lavish dishes, selecting without care for moderation. Sheri’s eyes widened each time the words left Bobo’s lips. Her heart thudded against her chest, and her palms dampened under the table. She knew the unspoken rule of such gatherings: the one who extended the invitation was the one who paid the bill. And that meant her mother would be footing the cost of every indulgence Bobo piled on. She’s ordering like money grows on trees, Sheri thought frantically. Does she even realize how much this will cost? Or maybe she just doesn’t care. She’s a Stern, people like her never have to care. Sheri glanced toward her mother, but Sanna only smiled faintly, hiding whatever anxiety she felt. For Bobo, this was nothing more than an opportunity to enjoy herself in the moment. If she wasn’t going to gain anything concrete from this meeting, then at the very least, she would take advantage of the luxury placed before her. Sheri lowered her gaze again, her chest tight. Will... will Mother even be able to pay this bill?

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