Chapter 21: Someone Is Cheating

I called an emergency meeting with Marcus and her nutritionist at the private facility, pulling up my live investment monitor on my phone.

Something wasn’t adding up. Months of high-intensity track work, zero missed sessions, and a strict caloric deficit—scientifically, May should have shed at least 20 to 30 pounds by now. Instead, the scale had barely budged.

When I walked into the private office, Marcus was looking over her workout logs, visibly frustrated, while the nutritionist was re-checking her daily meal prep charts.

"I don’t get it," Marcus said, rubbing his chin as he looked up at me. "Her heart rate during sessions is right in the peak burn zone, and her athletic output is through the roof. Her muscle endurance is skyrocketing, but her body mass isn’t dropping the way it mathematically should. It’s like her system is actively resisting the weight loss."

"Is she cheating on the diet?" I asked, my voice cold as I glanced at the nutritionist.

"Impossible," the nutritionist replied, shaking his head. "We deliver pre-measured, sealed meals straight to her door. Unless she’s secretly eating double her intake somewhere else, this isn’t a willpower issue. It could be a medical block—like a severe thyroid imbalance, hidden hormonal resistance, or an undiagnosed metabolic condition."

If this was a medical roadblock, standard gym grinds were never going to unlock that 9.5 potential, and my payout would stay locked forever.

I dismissed Marcus and the nutritionist, telling them to leave us alone for a bit.

From where I stood, the math was simple. Workouts were solid, but the scale wasn’t moving. That meant she had to be cheating on her diet—eating something she wasn’t telling anyone about.

Since I was mostly operating like a cold investor, I realized I needed to actually get closer to her if I wanted to find out what was really going on. I needed to see how she lived when she wasn’t at the gym.

I got her address from the gym files, hopped into my supercar, and drove over to her side of town.

Her apartment building was pretty rundown, sitting in a tight neighborhood that looked nothing like the places I usually hung out at. I pulled up right to the curb, the loud engine drawing looks from everyone on the street.

I got out, walked up the old staircase, and knocked on her door.

A few seconds later, the door swung open. May stood there in an oversized hoodie and sweatpants, holding a half-eaten bag of chips in her hand. The second she saw me standing in her hallway in my fresh designer clothes and my expensive watch, her jaw dropped, and her face turned bright red as she tried to hide the bag behind her back.

"What... what are you doing here?" she stammered, looking totally caught.

"We need to talk," I said calmly, stepping past her into her small apartment. "And I think I just found out why the scale isn’t moving."

I walked further into the apartment, and the sight was even worse than I expected.

Greasy burger wrappers, empty soda cans, and half-eaten junk food boxes were scattered across her coffee table and counter. I stepped over to her kitchen, opened the fridge, and saw rows of sealed, pre-measured healthy meals from the nutritionist sitting in the back—completely untouched.

I let out a long sigh and closed the fridge door.

"So... ’thyroid issue,’ huh?" I said softly, looking around the room before turning back to her.

May dropped her head, her face burning with shame. She didn’t try to make excuses this time. She just stood there in her oversized hoodie, looking completely crushed.

"Grab a seat," I said, pulling out a chair at her small table and sitting down. "Let’s talk."

May walked over slowly, sitting across from me with her hands wrapped tight in her lap, staring down at the wood.

"Look, I’m not here to yell at you," I said, keeping my voice calm and grounded. "I put up thirty-five grand because I saw your drive at the gym. You work harder on that track than anyone I’ve ever seen. So tell me the truth... why are you busting your ass with Marcus every single day, just to come home and sabotage yourself like this?"

May bit her lip, her eyes watering up as she finally looked up at me.

"It’s... it’s stress," she whispered, her voice cracking slightly. "At the gym, I feel like I’m pushing so hard, but every time I come back here to this empty apartment, the anxiety just hits me like a wall. Food has always been the only thing that numb my head when I feel overwhelmed or worthless. The moment I get home, my brain just panics, and I go straight for the junk."

She wiped a tear off her cheek, breathing heavy. "I want to change, I swear I do. But when the pressure gets too high, I fall right back into old habits."

I leaned back, listening closely. The problem wasn’t a lack of grit—it was emotional binge-eating triggered by stress and isolation. If I wanted that 30X cashback payout, I couldn’t just give her a gym; I had to help her handle the mental side, too.

"Pack a bag," I told her, looking around the room. "You’re coming with me to the penthouse."

May blinked, taking a step back. "Wait, what? No way. I’m not moving into your place."

"I’m not asking," I said, keeping my voice firm and grounded. "Look at this place, May. You come back here alone, the anxiety hits, and you end up sabotaging every single ounce of hard work you put in with Marcus. You want to reach your goal or not?"

"Of course I do!" she snapped, crossing her arms defensively. "But I can handle my own life. I don’t need to be babysat in some luxury apartment."

"You’ve been trying to handle it on your own, and the sealed meals in your fridge are untouched," I countered, looking her dead in the eye. "If you really want to be a professional track athlete, you have to break this cycle. You stay at my place until you build the discipline and we know you won’t fall back into these habits. Zero excuses, zero junk, total focus. If you’re serious about your dream, grab your stuff."

May stared at me, her stubborn jaw set tight as she tried to find an argument. But she knew I was right. She looked at the wrappers on the table, let out a long, defeated sigh, and shoulders slumped.

"Fine," she muttered, turning around. "Give me ten minutes."

Ten minutes later, she walked back out with a small duffel bag slung over her shoulder. I took the bag from her, walked her down to the street, and popped the trunk of the supercar. Her eyes went wide again as the engine roared to life, but she quietly climbed into the leather passenger seat.

I drove us straight back to the high-rise penthouse. When the private elevator opened up into the main living space, May stepped out cautiously, looking around at the floor-to-ceiling glass, high-end design, and city view with total awe.

Chloe was sitting at the kitchen island, surrounded by high-tech study tablets and books. She looked up, surprised to see May standing there with a duffel bag.

"Chloe, this is May," I said smoothly as I set the bag down. "She’s going to be staying in the guest wing for a while. We’re locking down her training routine."

Chloe looked between May and me, a sharp smile forming as she immediately caught the vibe. "Welcome to the grind house," Chloe said warmly, closing her tablet. "If he’s managed to make me spend twelve hours a day on law and data models, you’re in good hands."

May gave a small, hesitant smile, finally starting to relax as she looked around her new environment. No isolation, no hidden junk food, and no toxic environment—just pure focus.

I pulled May into the living area and laid down the new house rules, plain and simple.

"Zero junk food in this house. You stick strictly to the nutritionist’s schedule, you hit every single training session with Marcus, and you keep your head right," I said, looking her straight in the eye. "You’ve got insane grit when you’re running, May, but now you need to put that exact same grit into your self-discipline."

She crossed her arms, nodding grudgingly, but I could tell the total ban was heavy on her mind.

"Look, I’m not a monster," I added, softening the blow slightly. "If you hit every goal, follow every meal plan, and don’t miss a single beat for one full month straight... you get one cheat meal. Whatever junk food you want, on my tab."

One month felt like a long time to her, and she looked a bit discouraged, staring down at her sneakers.

Right on cue, Chloe stepped up from the kitchen island, placing a supportive hand on May’s shoulder with a bright smile. "Hey, trust me on this," Chloe said warmly. "He pushed me till my brain felt like melting, but look where I am now. One month is nothing. We’ll get through it together—you do your track grind, I do my study grind."

Seeing Chloe cheer her up worked like magic. May took a deep breath, the hesitation disappearing from her eyes as that familiar determination flooded back in.

"Deal," May said, looking at me with a firm nod. "One month. I’m going to prove you right."

It was good seeing the two of them getting along so freely in the penthouse, both locked into their transformations under my roof. With May’s environment completely controlled and Chloe guarding her back, that 30X cashback payout was finally back on a straight path.