Some time had passed since the violent upheaval at the university, but for Donto Stern, the clock seemed to have stopped the moment Max walked out of that athletic hall. When Donto had finally gathered enough strength to limp out of the facility, he was met with a sight that looked like a battlefield. His operation, the carefully constructed machine of influence and chemical dependency he had built, was in ruins. His enforcers, the elite muscle of the sports department, were scattered across the floor like discarded toys.
The shock had been absolute, a paralyzing cold that settled into his bones. But eventually, that initial numbness passed, replaced by a frantic, desperate need to reclaim his world. He refused to believe that a single person, even a Stern, could dismantle his life in an afternoon.
