Maxwell lay in his hospital bed, staring at the blank ceiling, his mind racing. The system had delivered a promise—a chance to rebuild his life. The sports prediction was just the beginning. He knew the stakes were high, but so were the rewards. With a deep breath, he forced himself to focus.
The sterile hospital room around him felt increasingly suffocating. He had spent days—no, weeks—stuck in this bed, recovering from the accident that had shattered both his body and his spirit. His legs still ached, and his arms felt like lead weights whenever he tried to move them. But there was something else now—an ember of hope, a flicker of something that had long since burned out in his chest.
The system, the Business Domination System, had given him something that no one else had—an edge. And it wasn't just a simple advantage. It was a power. A key to a future that was once beyond his reach.
But he couldn't get ahead of himself. One step at a time.
Maxwell turned his head toward the small table beside his bed. His phone, his only connection to the outside world, sat there, untouched. It had been a constant reminder of everything he had lost—the calls from creditors, the angry emails from former business partners, the messages from his family, all filled with concern and disappointment. But there was one person he hadn't heard from in a while.
Mia.
His heart twinged at the thought of her. He hadn't seen her much since the accident. The few times she had come to visit, she always had that look in her eyes—the kind of look that spoke of worry, of doubt. She had been supportive, yes, but Maxwell knew she couldn't hide the truth. She was starting to wonder whether he would ever be the man he once was.
Could he? Could he become that man again?
With a sigh, Maxwell reached for the phone. As his fingers hovered over the screen, his thoughts turned to the prediction he had made. Liverpool had won. The odds had been in his favor, and now—now he was looking at a hundred million dollars. He had to start making decisions. The money would give him the resources he needed, but it was up to him to use it wisely.
His thumb hovered over the contacts list, and he hesitated for a moment. He needed to reach out. But who? His family? His brothers had always been supportive, but his older sister, Isabelle, would be the one who understood the risks and opportunities the best. She had a mind for business, much like him.
With a swipe, he selected Isabelle's name. The phone rang once, then twice, before it was answered.
"Maxwell?" Isabelle's voice came through, a little sharp, a little tired. "Is everything okay?"
Maxwell smiled softly. It was a relief to hear her voice. Isabelle was always the no-nonsense one in the family, the one who had built her career from the ground up, often at the expense of personal relationships. But she understood the business world in a way that Maxwell respected.
"I'm doing better," Maxwell said, his voice steady despite the maelstrom inside him. "I need your help."
He could practically hear her straighten up on the other end of the line. Isabelle was always quick to action, especially when it came to business.
"What's going on?" she asked, her tone shifting to something more serious.
"I have an idea," Maxwell said, keeping his voice low. "A plan. I've got some money—enough to get started again—and I've got some potential opportunities. But I need your help to navigate it."
There was a long pause. He could feel the weight of her scrutiny on the other end of the line. Finally, she spoke.
"Tell me everything."
Maxwell explained it all—his plans, the money he had, and his idea of where to invest. He kept the details vague, leaving out the secret about the system, about the edge he had. He knew she would question it. He wasn't ready to tell her everything yet. He had to make sure it worked first.
When he finished, there was silence again. His heart thudded in his chest as he waited for her response.
"Max, this sounds risky," Isabelle said after a long pause, her voice cautious. "But if what you're saying is true, it could be the opportunity you've been waiting for. Just... be careful. Don't jump in blind."
Maxwell nodded, though she couldn't see him. "I know. That's why I need you. I need you to help me make smart decisions. To keep me grounded. I can't do this alone."
Isabelle sighed. "Alright, I'll help. But we need to start slow. Test the waters. Let's not rush in and burn through everything. If you're serious about this, we'll need a solid plan."
Maxwell's heart soared. "Thank you. I can't do this without you."
They talked for another hour, hashing out the details of what Maxwell's next steps should be. Isabelle was cautious, as always, but there was a spark of excitement in her voice that he hadn't heard in a long time. She had always been driven, but it had been a while since he'd seen her this engaged.
When they hung up, Maxwell felt more certain than he had in weeks. With Isabelle by his side, they could take on anything.
---
A few days later, Maxwell stood in the lobby of the rehabilitation center, dressed in a simple black suit that had been brought to him by a friend from his university days. He had made a conscious decision to dress sharply. The man he used to be would never have walked around in hospital scrubs. It was a small gesture, but it made him feel like he was taking control again.
As he exited the building, he took in the world around him—the bustling streets, the constant hum of traffic, the people rushing by. It all felt like a blur, a reminder of how far he had fallen. But as he stood there, feeling the weight of the past, he also felt something else—something new. A purpose.
Maxwell had a plan now. And with the money he had, he was going to make his first big move. He wouldn't let this chance slip away. The first step was the hardest, but it was also the most important. And Maxwell Harrison Carter, now armed with more than just ambition, was ready to take it.