Max ended the call and leaned back, satisfied. He'd gotten exactly what he wanted, Wolf's help. Not the rest of the Pit, not his crew, just Wolf as a solo act.
Honestly, it made sense. Wolf looked young enough to blend in as a high schooler, especially if he wore a uniform. No one would suspect a thing. He was sharp in a fight, didn't have any messy ties to some billionaire family legacy, and most importantly, he didn't ask questions. If there was money involved, he was in.
And Wolf hadn't demanded details either. All he said was, "One hundred grand a day. That's my rate."
Yeah. A hundred K. Per day.
Max had hesitated for a second, it was a ridiculous price, but deep down, he figured that was Wolf's way of saying he didn't really want the job. But the second Max agreed, Wolf dropped the tough-guy act and just said, "Cool. Hit me up when you need me."
