Overbearing CEO's Contract Love
Chapter 317: The "Delivery" Guy

Chapter 317: The "Delivery" Guy

The college town buzzed with youthful energy and the unmistakable tension of hormones in the air.

During the day, the campus was filled with diligent students hustling between lecture halls and sports fields. But at night, the dark sky seemed to cover their misdeeds, their reckless behavior excused as rites of passage.

As night fell, Max roamed the campus with a group of his so-called buddies, who all dressed like small-time troublemakers.

"Ugh... I’m so bored," muttered one of the guys, yawning loudly and scanning the campus as if searching for his next thrill.

Max, cigarette in hand, walked with his head down. It was the end of the month, and the allowance from Emma Hart and his grandmother was nearly gone. If they didn’t send more money soon, he wouldn’t even have enough for cigarettes next month.

"Hey, man, what’s up? You look down. Tell us, maybe we can help," said another guy, noticing Max’s troubled expression.

Max stomped out his cigarette on the ground and grumbled, "Don’t even start. I’m almost out of cash, and my grandma hasn’t sent more yet."

His mood was dark.

The second guy slung an arm around Max’s shoulders, pulling him close. "Then call and remind her! If that doesn’t work, we can hook you up with a quick cash gig."

Max knew his friend well enough to be wary. Quick cash usually meant something shady—selling himself or loan sharking. He waved off the offer, uninterested.

"Hold up, don’t say no just yet. Let me show you something," said his friend, pulling the latest model phone from his pocket.

Max’s curiosity piqued.

"See this? And check this out," his friend said, opening a digital wallet app showing tens of thousands of dollars.

Max’s eyes lit up.

"Wow, man, what are you into?" Max asked, intrigued.

His friend grinned proudly, looking around to ensure no one else was listening. He leaned in close, hand cupped around his mouth for secrecy. "It’s easy, man. Just doing some personal shopping for people."

"Pfft," Max scoffed, rolling his eyes. Personal shopping was a dime a dozen; everyone claimed to make money but still drove their beat-up old scooters after years.

"This isn’t your typical personal shopping gig! We’re talking big money here. One job gets you at least this much," the thug said, spreading his fingers wide and shaking them for emphasis.

Five hundred bucks for a single errand?

Max’s suspicions grew. "You can’t be serious! Are you dealing...?" he mouthed the word he didn’t dare say aloud.

His friend nodded, a satisfied grin on his face.

"Don’t worry, man. Think about it. So many people do this every day, and we’re just small fries. The authorities are after the big fish, not us!" the thug explained, getting more animated.

Max pondered for a moment. It made some sense. Asking his sister for more money would only earn him another lecture. Maybe it was time to make some cash on his own.

"Alright, man. Tomorrow night, I’ll take you to see how it’s done. Just don’t use any yourself, and you’ll be fine. Just think of it as delivering a package," his friend continued, practically glowing with excitement.

"Fine, but I’m just going to check it out," Max insisted.

"Sure thing, man! No worries. Tonight, drinks are on me. Let’s celebrate our future success!" the thug exclaimed.

The next night, Max found himself being led by the two thugs into a newly opened club in the college town called "Hong Bar."

At first glance, it seemed like any other nightclub in the area, but a closer look revealed something off. In the far corners, scattered men and women sat drinking alone, silent and expressionless.

The thugs guided Max to one of these tables. The second thug bowed deeply to a heavily made-up woman sitting at the center. "Sis, this is my friend who wants in. Can you take him under your wing?"

Nora Moore looked up, her gaze icy as she scrutinized Max. After a moment, she nodded. "Alright, you can bring him along." She tossed a box of face masks onto the table.

"Thank you, sis! Thank you!" The thug bowed repeatedly in gratitude.

Max stood there, confused. Wasn’t he just supposed to be observing? How did he get roped into this so quickly?

He stared boldly at Nora Moore. She was a striking woman with hair cascading like a waterfall, sensuous red lips, and a cold, piercing gaze. Her mini strapless dress barely covered her, and Max couldn’t help but notice that any movement might reveal more than she intended.

Seeing Max blatantly staring at Ella Moore, the second thug quickly pressed Max’s head down and apologized to her.

Ella Moore merely waved her hand dismissively, saying nothing.

As they left the nightclub, Max, clutching the box of "face masks," couldn’t hold back his frustration. "You little sneak! You told me we were just going to check things out. How did I end up getting dragged into this?"

The second thug put on a pitiful look. "Come on, Max! Every newbie gets a freebie, the first batch of goods without charge. After that, you pay for supplies. Just think of it as helping out your dear brother here."

Max thought it over. Since he hadn’t lost anything yet, he decided to let it slide.

They made their way to a secluded spot on campus. A scrawny student approached them, glancing around nervously to make sure no one was following. "Where’s my face mask?" he asked.

The thug smirked, holding up a single mask. "Cash first, then the goods."

"I need to check it first," the student insisted.

"Alright." The thug tore a small corner of the mask’s packaging. The student leaned in, inhaling deeply, his face lighting up with satisfaction. "Good stuff!"

Inside the packaging was a new type of drug. The transaction completed, and just like that, they had made five hundred dollars.

Max observed the whole process, finding it surprisingly simple and seemingly safe. With so many people involved, the police couldn’t possibly catch them all. Convinced, he decided to join this so-called "delivery" business.