My Second Chance
Copyright© 2026 by BillMax
Chapter 21: Honest Profit
The government-sealed river sand would be released eventually—at least in part.
But how soon was “eventually”?
A week? A month? Six months?
Nobody could say for certain.
Construction projects across the region could not wait. Every day of delay meant money lost, and sand was a basic necessity. Developers had to buy it no matter how high the price climbed.
The more they bought, the more suppliers hoarded inventory, pushing prices higher still. Rising prices triggered panic among builders, who scrambled to stock up even faster.
A perfect vicious cycle. That was why Marcus Hale had felt confident quoting three hundred dollars a ton yesterday, and why Gavin York had swallowed his pride despite the humiliation.
After all, Gavin could not buy sand anywhere else even if he had the money.
For men like him, cash mattered far more than pride.
When the car reached the construction site entrance, the old gatekeeper handed Gavin York a slip of paper and said the man on the motorcycle from yesterday had left it.
Gavin stared at it, then broke into a grin.
Taking the initiative to leave contact information—even if it was only so Gavin could yell at him—meant there was still hope.
When the call came through, Marcus had just finished a set of handstand push-ups. Wiping sweat from his brow, he asked, “Who is this?”
“B-Boss, hello!” Gavin said carefully. “My name is Gavin York. I ... I’m the one you met at the construction site yesterday...”
“Oh,” Marcus cut him off. “Planning to retire from the business, Boss Gavin?”
“Ha ha...” Gavin laughed awkwardly. “About yesterday ... I failed to recognize real talent. I apologize for any offense. Please be magnanimous and don’t stoop to my level.”
Marcus had no patience for pleasantries. “Just say what you want.”
“I want to buy your sand, of course.”
“What’s the market price now?”
“Two hundred and fifty-eight a ton,” Gavin said, not daring to lie. He quoted the real-time figure.
“Considering yesterday’s offense, I’m willing to pay a penalty—a ten-dollar premium. Two hundred and sixty-eight a ton. Is that acceptable?”
Marcus chuckled coldly. “Sure. But I’m busy this morning. Let’s meet this afternoon.”
“Wait ... Hello? Hello?”
Gavin nearly cursed as he stared at the disconnected phone.
Overnight, the price of ordinary river sand had soared by a hundred dollars a ton. High-quality river sand had more than doubled.
The market was unstable. Two hundred and fifty-eight in the morning might become three hundred and fifty-eight by afternoon.
A potential half-million-dollar loss in half a day—how could he afford to wait?
Gavin took a deep breath to suppress the pain in his chest, redialed, and without waiting for an answer said, “Three hundred and ten a ton. Full payment!”
Marcus smiled. “Please prepare a sales contract, Boss Gavin. I’ll be right over.”
Half an hour later, Marcus rode his bike into the construction site and immediately saw several black full-size SUVs parked to the left. A group of people surrounded an older man, discussing the open ground.
On the right corner, Gavin York paced near the pile of sand like an ant on a hot pan.
“Boss, hello, hello! I really apologize for yesterday, I...”
The moment he saw Marcus, Gavin rushed over as if reuniting with family.
“Enough. No need for pleasantries. Is the contract ready?” Marcus asked.
“Yes, yes.”
Gavin pulled two copies from his bag.
Marcus examined them carefully, found no issues, provided his account details, and signed both copies.
Watching his balance drop by three million one hundred ten thousand dollars, Gavin’s face twitched in pain—but he still had to smile.
Because anyone who had anticipated a sand price hike a full day in advance was someone Gavin York could not afford to offend.
With the deal settled and the money transferred, Marcus offered Gavin a cigarette and said with a smile, “Boss Gavin, a piece of advice: a gentleman loves money, and he earns it the honest way. Try to do less of what damages your moral virtue.”
With that, he rode off.
Gavin stood there looking dumbfounded and utterly confused.
Just then, the black SUVs that had been on the left side of the site now stopped at the main entrance. Marcus glanced at the older man chatting with the gatekeeper while smoking and slowed slightly.
“Young man,” the elder suddenly called to him.
Marcus planted his feet and removed his helmet. “Can I help you, sir?”
The man shook his cigarette pack. “If you’re not busy, how about a chat?”
He was not actually very old—probably in his fifties, with graying hair, a square face, and eyes sharp as an eagle’s. He stood upright with a commanding presence that betrayed high status.
Marcus turned off the engine and walked over, accepting the cigarette offered and commenting, “This is a rare, high-quality brand—not something you find for two thousand a pack in ordinary markets. Quite the luxury, sir. You know how to enjoy life.”
“It’s just hype. Not worth mentioning.”
The man waved dismissively, half smiling. “Just like that sand you just sold.”
Marcus took a drag and did not reply.
The elder’s eyebrows lifted, and he went straight to the point. “The gatekeeper told me you delivered that sand yesterday. What was the purchase price, and how much did you sell it for today? Mind sharing?”
Marcus did not hide it. “Purchase price was one hundred and fifty. Selling price, three hundred and ten.”
“Well done. More than double in one day.” The elder expressed amazement. “Young man, you have an exceptional knack for business.”
Marcus simply shrugged. “Just like this cigarette to you—not worth mentioning.”
The elder looked at him intently, then continued, “This plot of land is mine. I’m planning to build a mid-to-high-end eco-community here. What do you think?”