Chapter 3 - An Impossible Wager
Damian spun around, glaring at Marcus. "You! You jinxed it! Or you touched something while you were cleaning it!"
"I wash the paint, Mr. Cross," Marcus said calmly. "Your boy there is the one who fed a sledgehammer into the software."
"Fix it," Damian barked at Chad.
"I… I can't," Chad whimpered, staring at the flashing red errors on his screen. "It's a proprietary lockout. It has to go back to the factory in France. It’ll take six months."
Damian kicked a trash can across the pristine slate floor. He needed the car for the underground "Apex Rally" that weekend—an illegal, high-stakes race among the world's elite billionaires. Losing face was not an option.
Marcus stepped forward. "I can fix it."
Everyone froze. Damian let out a harsh, disbelieving laugh. "You? The guy who waxes the tires? You're going to crack a heavily encrypted hypercar ECU?"
"I don't need a computer," Marcus said, tapping his temple. "I know the mechanical bypass. I can have it purring by tomorrow morning."
Damian narrowed his eyes. "And what do you want for this miracle, old man? A tip?"
"If I fix it," Marcus said, his eyes locking onto Damian's, "you let me drive it in the Apex Rally. As your proxy."
The silence in the room was deafening. Damian smirked. "And if you ruin my car completely?"
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"Then I'll sign over my life savings to pay for the shipping to France," Marcus replied.
"Deal," Damian said, a wicked glint in his eye. "But you're a fool. I hope you enjoy being broke."
