Ethan’s eyes narrowed as he refused the bill.
“I’m not here for your charity. I came to make a withdrawal.”
The guard snorted, pulling back the ten dollars and pocketing it with exaggerated slowness.
“Right. Then maybe try the ATM outside, buddy.”
Ethan’s lips curled into a tight smile as he met the guard’s gaze head-on.
“And what if I told you I’m here to withdraw one million dollars?”
For a moment, the guard looked taken aback, then burst into laughter that drew the attention of a few onlookers.
“One million?” he repeated, struggling to contain his amusement.
“You’re joking, right?”
Ethan’s expression remained calm, but there was fire in his eyes.
“Is there a reason why that’s so hard for you to believe?”
The guard snorted, his laughter bordering on scorn.
“Because I saw you pull up on that rusty scooter outside,” he replied, his voice dripping with condescension.
“One million dollars? That’s a good one. Do you think we’re all idiots here?”
Ethan’s face reddened, and he could feel his patience wearing thin.
“I’m a client here, and I expect to be treated with respect. Are you suggesting that people who ride scooters can’t have money?”
“Look, boy,” the guard said, shaking his head, “we get people like you all the time. Coming in here with big stories and empty pockets. What are you gonna say next? That you’re some secret millionaire? You think you’re the first joker to walk in here with a fairytale?”
Ethan could feel a crowd gathering around them, whispers and amused glances flickering his way.
The guard’s words cut deeper than he wanted to admit.
Does he think I’m some kind of beggar? Some fraud looking for a handout?
The humiliation stung, but he held his ground.
“What gives you the right to treat me like this?” Ethan demanded, his voice low but laced with anger.
The guard shrugged, clearly unbothered.
“Right? Well, let’s see.” He looked him up and down with a smirk.
“It’s just obvious. People like you walk in here all the time, looking for a quick score, pretending you’re someone you’re not. We’ve got to deal with you guys like clockwork. Bet you don’t even have fifty bucks in your account.”
Just then, the commotion caught the attention of the bank manager, a man with a stern face and sharp eyes who approached, looking less than pleased.
“What’s going on here?” he asked, his voice cold.
The guard straightened, pointing at Ethan with a smirk.
“This guy was causing a scene, sir. Claims he’s here to withdraw a million dollars,” he said, his voice dripping with disbelief.
“More likely, he’s here to beg for money—or worse, try to take it. I’ve seen his type before.”
The manager’s frown deepened as he looked from Ethan to the guard, clearly displeased with the spectacle.
“A beggar? Are you accusing this man of trying to steal?”
Ethan shot a furious glare at the guard.
“I just came here to withdraw my one million dollars. But you guys judge won’t let me enter until a man show up in a suit and tie?”
The manager, an experienced man who had seen many different types of clients, turned his gaze back to Ethan with a more discerning look.
Could he be telling the truth? the manager wondered.
Some of the wealthiest clients he knew didn’t flaunt their riches in designer clothes and flashy cars.
“Are you saying you want to withdraw… one million dollars?” he asked cautiously.
“Yes,” Ethan replied without hesitation, his voice unwavering.
The manager’s eyes widened slightly, surprised by the firmness in Ethan’s tone.
“That’s a substantial… amount, sir,” he said carefully.
“Withdrawals of that size require advance notice—it typically takes about three days to prepare such a transaction.”
Ethan’s face tightened in frustration, and he reached into his pocket, producing a sleek gold card that gleamed in his hand.
He held it up for the manager to see, his expression hard. “And even with this card… I still need to wait three days?”
The manager’s eyes widened in shock, recognizing the exclusive gold card immediately.
It was a card only issued to high-net-worth individuals, those with substantial financial assets and significant influence.
The bank manager felt a shiver of realization wash over him; Ethan wasn’t just anybody.
But the guard beside him, who clearly had no clue about the significance of the card, burst into laughter.
“Oh, come on!” the guard jeered.
“What is that, some kind of toy? Never seen a card like that in my life. What did you do, order it online? Honestly, you’re really working hard to sell this little act. Next thing you’ll tell us, you’re secretly the CEO of some billion-dollar company.” He sneered, leaning closer.
“Do yourself a favor and drop the act. We all know you’re just here to waste everyone’s time.”
The manager’s patience snapped.
Without hesitation, he raised his hand and delivered a sharp slap across the guard’s face, the sound echoing in the silent bank lobby.
The guard staggered back, clutching his cheek, his face a mixture of shock and pain. “S-sir?” he stammered, looking at the manager in disbelief.
CHAPTER 8The guard stood there, still rubbing his reddened cheek, staring at the manager in shock and confusion. “Sir… why did you slap me? He’s just some nobody on a cheap scooter bike!”The manager’s eyes narrowed, his expression darkening with each word. He glanced out the glass doors at the sleek, streamlined scooter parked outside. Then, without warning, he delivered another stinging slap to the guard’s face.“Are you blind, or just incredibly stupid?” the manager snapped, his voice dripping with disdain. “That ‘cheap scooter’ you’re so eager to mock is made of carbon fiber! Do you have any idea what that means?”The guard’s eyes went wide, struggling to grasp the manager’s words. “Carbon fiber?” he echoed, his voice faint.“Yes, carbon fiber!” The manager shook his head, his voice laced with contempt. “That’s not some regular run-down scooter from a junkyard. That machine costs at least a hundred thousand dollars!”The guard’s mouth fell open, and he stammered, “A hundred
Ethan stepped out of the bank, feeling the weight of his worn bag filled with cash. Just as he climbed onto his carbon-fiber scooter, his phone rang. Glancing at the screen, he saw it was his roommate.“Hey, Ethan, where are you?” his roommate asked. “Class started, and the professor’s already taken attendance. You know how he gets.”Ethan’s heart dropped as he checked the time. He’d completely forgotten his lecture in the commotion at the bank. “I’m on my way. I’ll be there in a few minutes,” he replied, kicking his scooter into gear and racing toward the college.He arrived at the classroom, slightly out of breath, his bag slung over his shoulder. As he stepped in, every head in the room turned to him. At the front of the room, Professor Whitmore, a man with a perpetual scowl and sharp eyes, paused his lecture, his lips curling into a condescending smile.“Well, well,” Professor Whitmore sneered, eyeing Ethan. “Look who decided to join us. The class’s star latecomer! We’re s
Melissa’s mocking smirk widened as she crossed her arms, glancing at Ethan with a mixture of disdain and amusement. “You know, Ethan, you’re actually considering joining us? I mean, since when have you ever gone to a group event? Oh, right,” she sneered, “you’d rather save your pennies and skip out.”Ethan met her gaze with calm amusement. “Maybe I’ve decided it’s time to change things up.”Just then, Mike swaggered over, flashing Melissa a possessive grin before casting a condescending look in Ethan’s direction. Mike was the reason Melissa had dumped Ethan, and he was determined to remind Ethan of it every chance he got.“Oh, so this is the dinner everyone’s talking about?” Mike said, smirking. “Well, count me in.” His gaze flickered toward Claire with a glint of interest. “Can’t let the most beautiful girl in class be left with… undesirable company.”Claire raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by his insinuation, but Mike wasn’t done. He turned to Ethan with a mocking chuckle
“So, everyone, I think Moonlight is perfect for tonight, don’t you?” He cast a challenging look at Ethan, a glint of mockery in his eyes.As the group stood outside the campus, Mike folded his arms with a sly grin. The name drew a gasp from the group. Claire frowned, voicing what everyone was thinking. “Moonlight? Isn’t that… a bit much, Mike? That place is ridiculously expensive.”Mike chuckled, feigning kindness. “Oh, come on, Claire. It’s not a big deal. If Ethan finds it a bit too pricey, I don’t mind splitting the bill with him.” He turned to Ethan, smirking. “What do you say, Ethan? You up for it?”Ethan’s eyes sparkled with a calm confidence that took Mike by surprise. “Sure, Mike. That’s the deal.”Mike’s grin faded for a second before he forced it back. He had been counting on Ethan backing out, not agreeing. “Well… alright then! But remember, this isn’t just some fast-food joint. Dinner there can easily cost a thousand bucks.”Ethan shrugged nonchalantly. “I’m aware.
"Hey, idiot! Get out of there!"The shout echoed through the empty basketball court, followed by the unmistakable sound of a ball hurtling toward Ethan’s head. He barely had time to flinch before the basketball collided with his skull, sending him stumbling backward onto the cold concrete. His vision blurred, and his head throbbed in pain.Laughter erupted from the group standing near the court’s edge—Mike and his friends, their mocking grins wide as they watched Ethan, sprawled out on the ground like a fool."Look at him!" one of Mike's friends called out, his voice laced with cruel amusement. "Can’t even dodge a ball!""Stupid, pathetic loser," another chimed in, their laughter making Ethan’s ears ring.The floor beneath Ethan’s hands was gritty and dirty, and he wiped his forehead with his sleeve, feeling the sting of embarrassment heat his cheeks. He had been cleaning the court, doing his job as part of his work-study program. But clearly, Mike and his crew had other plans.Gr
“Oh, shit! What is this idiot trying to do here?”The shout cut through the air, sharp and mocking. Ethan’s heart hammered in his chest as he ran toward them—Mike and his cronies standing near the edge of the basketball court, their attention already drawn to him. A pit of dread formed in Ethan’s stomach, but he pushed through, his mind filled with nothing but the need to confront Melissa. She was there, among them, and something didn’t sit right. He had to know what was going on.Before Ethan could take another step, one of Mike’s friends, a stocky guy with a cruel smile, stepped forward. His arm swung in a wide arc, slapping Ethan hard across the face. The sound of skin meeting skin rang out, and Ethan staggered to the side, his cheek stinging from the impact."You really want to ruin this for Mike?" the guy spat, stepping closer, his breath hot and sour. "I told you how important this confession was, you idiot! What the hell are you even doing here? You’re just a cleaner! You
“You’re fucking bastard!!” Mike’s voice rang through the air like a thunderclap, his fury palpable. His face was red, and his eyes burned with rage. He pointed directly at Ethan, who was already reeling from the blows he had taken moments before.Mike’s cronies were circling Ethan like sharks, their fists flying mercilessly. Ethan stumbled, his vision blurry as pain radiated from his side. A cruel punch slammed into his stomach, forcing him to his knees. The thud of their fists hitting flesh, mixed with the mocking laughter of the gang, filled the basketball court."Get up, loser!" Mike spat, his words dripping with venom. "I told you not to mess with me!"Ethan groaned, blood dripping from his mouth, but he pushed himself up, his eyes glaring defiantly through the haze of pain.“I’m not going to back down, Mike,” Ethan muttered, though his voice wavered with exhaustion.Mike’s anger only increased. He turned to his friends, gesturing violently for them to continue. "Beat him dow
Ethan came out of the police station in confusion, his mind swirling with unanswered questions. As the cool evening air hit his bruised face, he blinked in surprise, noticing a middle-aged man standing near the entrance. The man was staring directly at him, his posture calm yet purposeful. It took Ethan a moment to recognize him."Uncle Steve?" Ethan asked, his voice filled with uncertainty. Steve Jackson, his neighbor's uncle. Ethan's brow furrowed in confusion. “Ethan. Glad to see you’re alright.” Steven smiled warmly."Uncle Steve, what are you doing here?" asked Ethan. “Did you… did you pay my bail?"Steven chuckled softly, shaking his head as he offered a slight bow."No, Ethan. It wasn’t me. But I’m here to take you to someone who did."Ethan’s confusion deepened.“Wait, what do you mean? Who—”“Come with me,” Steve interrupted, gesturing toward a sleek black car parked nearby.The car gleamed under the streetlights, its luxury unmistakable. Ethan's heart skipped a beat. Th