Chapter 26: Easiest Fifty Grand Made

The director let out a quiet laugh, tapping his fingers against the railing.

"Rei isn’t just a favorite," he said, leaning in with a proud smile. "She holds the current official world record. You’re throwing your girl into a cage with a monster."

I kept my eyes on the track, a dark smirk pulling at the edge of my lips. He had no idea May had shattered that exact same world record on our private track just yesterday—and by a full second. I didn’t say a single word to correct him. I just let him keep talking.

Down below, the stadium fell completely silent.

Rei Gold jumped up and down in Lane 3, popping her jersey collar and smirking at the big screen. In Lane 5, May didn’t even look at her. She dropped down to one knee, planted her hands firmly behind the line, and set her feet into the blocks.

"On your marks..."

May raised her hips, her eyes locked straight down the lane. Every muscle in her legs coiled tight like a loaded spring.

"Set..."

The silence in the stadium was so deep you could hear the wind. The director leaned over the rail, ready to cheer for his star. I leaned back in my chair, crossing my legs, and watched.

BANG!

The starter pistol cracked through the air.

The moment the gun cracked, Rei Gold exploded off the blocks with a flawless reaction time, taking an immediate half-step lead. May had a slightly slower start, settling into her drive phase just a fraction of a second behind.

The director instantly let out a loud cheer, throwing his hands in the air. "Look at that start! Game over already!" He turned to me, laughing with full confidence. "Tell you what, young man. Let’s make this interesting right now. Ten thousand dollars on Rei taking first place. You got the nerve to match it on your plain-black runner?"

I didn’t even turn my head to look at him. I casually reached down, picked up my drink, and took a slow, calm sip.

"Ten thousand?" I said, my voice dead steady. "Make it fifty thousand. Cash transfer the second they cross the line."

The director’s eyes flashed with greedy excitement. "Done! Easiest fifty grand I’ve ever made."

He turned back to yell for Rei, thinking he had already won. But down on the track, May was just finishing her acceleration phase. Her head came up, her posture straightened, and her raw potential kicked into overdrive.

At the 50-meter mark, while Rei was pushing at 100% capacity, May hit another gear entirely.

The sound of her spikes tearing into the track echoed up into the VIP box as she locked onto the lead runner. In a flash of pure black speed, the gap vanished.

The director’s cheers instantly cut off mid-sentence, his jaw dropping as May pulled even with Rei—and didn’t slow down for a single second.

May pumped her legs with crazy power, and in just three strides, she blew right past Sarah Vance.

She opened up a huge gap, leaving Rei and the rest of the field far behind in the dust. May flew across the finish line all by herself, stopping the clock at an insane 10.38 seconds.

The huge stadium screen flashed bright red: NEW WORLD RECORD: 10.38.

The entire crowd went dead silent for a split second before the whole place erupted into total madness. People were jumping out of their seats, screaming and going wild.

The commentators on the speakers were shouting, unable to believe what they had just seen. A girl in a completely black, plain suit with zero brand logos had just destroyed the world record on live TV.

Right beside me, the director dropped his champagne glass. It shattered on the floor.

His face was completely pale, his mouth wide open as he stared down at the track in shock. His top sponsored star was still breathing heavy, meters behind May, looking utterly crushed.

I slowly stood up, straightened my suit jacket, and pulled out my phone.

"Fifty thousand," I said calmly, looking at the frozen director. "Transfer it over."

Down on the track, May stood tall, looking up directly at my VIP box. She gave me a confident nod as reporters and cameras started rushing toward her like a swarm of bees.

The director’s hands were shaking as he pulled out his phone, rapidly tapping the screen to transfer the $50,000 straight to my account.

"Wait! Please!" he pleaded desperately, trailing behind me as I walked toward the VIP exit. "Double the contract! Triple it! Whatever number you want, we’ll write the check right now! Just give us exclusive rights!"

I didn’t even turn around. I just kept walking, leaving him standing there looking completely pathetic.

I made my way down the private tunnel and stepped out onto the track floor just as the rest of the runners finally crossed the finish line—a full ten seconds behind May. They collapsed onto the track, gasping for air and completely humiliated.

May saw me walking up, her face lighting up with pure joy. She didn’t care about the cameras, the flashing lights, or the reporters shouting questions. She ran straight toward me, throwing her arms around my neck.

I caught her, swinging her around before pulling her in close and giving her a quick peck on the cheek.

"I am so proud of you," I said softly against her ear. "You just showed the entire world what real power looks like."

May pulled back, her eyes shining with tears of absolute happiness. "I couldn’t have done any of this without you," she said, her voice full of emotion.

She turned around and gave Marcus a huge, tight hug next. "Thank you, Marcus. For everything."

Marcus grinned, clapping her on the shoulder. "You did the work, May. You’re the world record holder now."

While security pushed back the swarm of reporters desperate to get a quote from the mystery unbranded runner, my phone vibrated in my pocket.

May stepped up onto the top tier of the podium, receiving her gold medal as the national anthem began to play across the stadium. Dressed in her stark, logo-free custom kit with the gold gleaming on her chest, she looked like pure royalty. Cameras flashed endlessly from every angle, capturing the unbranded dark horse who had just rewritten athletic history.

After the ceremony, we pushed through a sea of hundreds of screaming reporters and flashing news cameras outside the tunnel. Security cleared a path, and we boarded our private tour bus, leaving the chaos behind as the heavy pneumatic doors shut out the noise.

The driver pulled out of the arena, heading down the highway. Inside, the celebration was already in full swing.

I grabbed a bottle of top-shelf champagne, popped the cork with a loud crack, and poured flutes for May and Marcus.

"To the undisputed fastest woman in the world," I said, raising my glass.

"To the fastest!" Marcus cheered, clinking his glass against ours with a massive smile.

May took a sip, her eyes glowing with pure happiness, still holding her heavy gold medal in her hand. Before she could speak, my phone began ringing loudly on the leather table. It was Chloe on a video call.

I answered and held up the screen. Chloe was jumping up and down in her study room, holding her tablet in one hand and screaming at the top of her lungs.

"I WATCHED THE WHOLE THING!" Chloe squealed through the speaker. "MAY, YOU LEAVE THEM BY TEN SECONDS! TEN SECONDS! You completely broke the internet! Every sports channel is talking about the girl in the plain black suit!"

May laughed, holding up her gold medal to the camera. "We did it, Chloe!"

"I’m so proud of you both!" Chloe grinned, calming down slightly. "Now get back home so we can celebrate for real!"

The bus kept rolling down the highway while the champagne kept flowing. May was staring down at her gold medal, still trying to digest the fact that every news network on the planet was currently scrambling to figure out who she was and who was managing her.

"So," Marcus said, wiping his glass and looking over at me with a smirk. "The entire sports world is losing its mind right now. Brands are going to be dropping blank checks at our feet by tomorrow morning."

May looked up at me from the leather sofa, her gold medal resting on her lap. "What’s our move now boss? Do we start taking meetings, or do we let them sweat?"

"Let them sweat," I said, a cold, satisfied smirk playing on my lips as I took another sip of champagne. "The longer we stay quiet, the more desperate they get. By Monday morning, every shoe brand, sponsor, and corporate executive on the planet will be begging just to get five minutes on the phone with us."