Mrs. Turner shook her head, her eyes reflecting the worry she felt. "No, sir. There’s been nothing. It’s as if they’ve all suddenly turned their backs on us without explanation. We’ve been trying to pinpoint the source of the problem, but so far... nothing."Robert leaned back in his chair, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on him. He rubbed his temples, trying to piece together what could have gone wrong. But every angle he considered led to a dead end. There had been no indications, no warnings, no signs of dissatisfaction from their clients. Everything had seemed perfectly fine until now.Taking a deep breath, Robert finally spoke, his voice quieter than before. "We need to get to the bottom of this, Mrs. Turner. Call a meeting with the department heads. I want all the data we have on these clients, every communication, every transaction, everything. We need to figure out what went wrong and how we can fix it... before it's too late."Just when Robert thought the

“Indeed, Mr. Langston,” Mr. Smith replied, his tone equally triumphant, though colder, more precise. “Their sales team is in shambles, and their clients are already questioning their stability. Panic is spreading like wildfire through their ranks. We’ve got them right where we want them.”Victor chuckled, a deep, throaty sound that resonated through the room as he leaned back in his chair, the leather creaking softly under his weight. He reached for the bottle of vintage red wine that sat nearby, effortlessly uncorked it, and poured the deep crimson liquid into his glass, the sound of the wine filling the glass a prelude to the toast he was about to make.“To the beginning of the end for Glidson Group,” he declared, raising his glass high, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous mix of ambition and malice. “This is only the first strike. By the time we’re done with them, gentlemen, there won’t be anything left of them but memories.”The others in the room joined in the toast, their glasses

As Robert’s words lingered in the air, murmurs spread among the queue of onlookers. Intrigued by his claim of being an SVIP, they began making snide remarks under their breath."SVIP? Ha, in those clothes?" a man in a tailored grey suit scoffed, adjusting his expensive watch. "He looks like he can’t even afford lunch, let alone hold a VIP status.""Is he out of his mind?" a woman in a sleek red dress muttered, rolling her eyes. "This isn’t some backstreet store where you can play pretend.""Honestly, the nerve of some people," another person added, clearly irritated. "We’ve all been waiting in line, and now this guy wants special treatment?"The employee, emboldened by the growing discontent from the crowd, let out a derisive laugh. Her mocking tone cut through the noise."Sir, I suggest you leave now before we’re forced to take more serious measures against you." Her eyes gleamed with the thrill of asserting authority, and her words carried a veiled threat.As if on cue, two fierce-l

As the tension in the bank reached its boiling point, the crowd's skepticism toward Robert was palpable. Mocking comments, sneers, and the occasional jeer rippled through the room as people gathered to witness what they believed would be Robert’s inevitable humiliation.Fueled by the man’s relentless taunts, the atmosphere grew more charged, with onlookers closing in, eager to watch the drama unfold.Just as the noise escalated into a near riot, a calm yet authoritative voice sliced through the chaos, instantly commanding attention. Heads turned toward the source of the voice, and out of the crowd stepped a middle-aged man in a sharp suit, his every movement exuding authority. His brow furrowed with both surprise and disapproval as he took in the chaotic scene before him.It was the bank manager.The employee who had been leading the charge against Robert, along with the two security guards, immediately straightened, their faces lighting up with relief. They seemed confident that the

The crowd murmured louder now, their gazes darting between Robert and the man as the tension in the air mounted.As the chatter in the crowd began to die down, the man raised his voice once again, ensuring all eyes were on him."The last name on this ID card," he said, waving it in the air, "doesn't match the one he claims. So, clearly, he's a fraud!"Robert’s heart skipped a beat. His mind raced as he suddenly realized the mistake he'd made that morning. A knot formed in his stomach as he grasped the gravity of the situation.He had grabbed the wrong ID, his old one from his time at the orphanage. It conflicted with the name his mother had given him when she found him months ago. Though the issue had long since been corrected, no one in the crowd would give him a chance to explain.The air felt thick with judgment as the crowd began whispering again."He’s a fraud? After all that show of power?" one person muttered in disbelief."Unbelievable. So everything he’s been doing here—actin