Chapter 6: The Password

“Yes, Ma’am.” The staff member nodded. “That card is extremely rare; there are only a few copies worldwide, and will make anyone a VVIP in any bank.”

Trisha was stunned by the revelation. She bit her lip hard.

She’d been searching for someone wealthy for ages, which is why she had been hopping from man to man.

The money she withdraws periodically from her father’s bank account is not enough to keep up with her lavish lifestyle.

‘I’ve only heard about the red card from my father, but I never thought I’d see someone with one…’ Trisha thought, her brows furrowing. 

‘But Oliver? There’s no way this is real!’

Suddenly, Trisha stood up and marched toward Rebecca. 

“Don’t believe this man’s lies, Rebecca! This man must be a fraud trying to fool you!”

“A fraud?” Rebecca asked, raising an eyebrow. “That’s a serious accusation, Miss Trisha.”

“I’m not accusing him. I’m just telling you the truth,” Trisha replied coldly. “He might have picked it up from the street, or stole it from someone!”

“And what makes you say that?” Rebecca questioned, her gaze fixed on Trisha. “Do you have any evidence to back up your claim?”

“I’m Oliver’s ex-wife, so I know his background. He’s poor and works at the wet market. Do you really think someone like him could qualify for a red card?” She sneered at Oliver. 

Trisha added, “He was working there this morning. He must’ve found the card or swiped it from someone!”

“I understand your concern, but you can leave that to us, Miss. Trisha. We’ll verify his credentials,” Rebecca assured her, trying to defuse the situation.

But Trisha was far from satisfied. 

“Why do you need to fact-check him when I’m the one telling you? I’m Trisha Henverton, daughter of the richest family in town! Do you think I would lie?”

The customers nearby agreed, filling the room with tension.

“Just look at him. His shirt’s so worn out it’s practically gray. How could a poor man like him have that rare card?”

“Right. Why would he be working at the wet market if he was rich? It doesn’t add up.”

“If he stole it, he should be thrown out immediately! What a disgrace!”

The security guard who had mocked Oliver earlier started to believe Trisha.

He became more vigilant in case Rebecca ordered him to drag Oliver away.

“I know who you are, Miss Trisha, and I’m aware that your father was a long-term client of ours before he passed away,” Rebecca answered, maintaining her professionalism. 

“But the bank president is on her way now, so I suggest you don’t cause any more trouble… or security will have to escort you out,” she warned.

The room immediately fell silent, and the other customers looked away. 

They were afraid that Rebecca would have them kicked out as well.

Rebecca turned back to Oliver. “I apologize for the disturbance, Sir. Please, follow me to the VVIP room.”

“Alright.” Oliver nodded and walked alongside Rebecca.

Realizing what was happening, Trisha snapped out of her shock and rushed toward Oliver, wanting to join him in the VVIP room.

“Stop her,” Rebecca ordered firmly.

Two nearby guards quickly blocked Trisha’s way, holding her by both arms.

“Sorry, Miss Trisha, but you’re not allowed in the VVIP room,” one of the guards informed her politely.

“No way! Why can’t I go in there, but he can?” Trisha snapped, her hands balling into fists. 

“We apologize, Miss Trisha. We’re just following orders,” the guard responded, his grip tightening as she struggled to break free.

“I should be the one in that room, not that loser! Don’t you understand? I’m the richest person in this town!” Trisha exclaimed.

But the guards held their ground.

“Let go of me, or I’ll have you all fired! I should be the one in that room, not him!” She gritted her teeth.

Suddenly, the other guard warned her. “Miss Trisha, if you keep this up, we’ll have to blacklist you from the bank.

Trisha fell silent. 

Her face was flushed with anger and humiliation, but she knew that pushing her luck any further might put her at a disadvantage. 

After all, this was the only bank she could withdraw her father’s money from.

She glared at Oliver as he walked away with Rebecca.

To her surprise, Oliver glanced back at her, the disappointment evident in his eyes.

“That bastard,” Trisha muttered.

She started to move toward him again, but by then, they had already entered the VVIP room.

Inside the room, Oliver couldn’t help but remember Trisha.

He felt utterly hopeless toward her, who despised the poor and adored the rich.

However, his thoughts shifted as he took in the VVIP room’s lavish interior. 

The room screamed wealth and sophistication,  especially with the elegant artwork hanging on the wall.

“Please, have a seat, Sir,” Rebecca gestured toward a luxurious brown leather chair.

Oliver complied and sat down.

Rebecca, maintaining her professional demeanor, sat across from him. 

Despite her composure, she was curious about this man with the red card. 

“What business would you like to conduct today, Sir?”

Oliver paused for a moment, trying to internalize the sudden turn of events. “I… I just want to withdraw money.”

“Alright, Sir. Just a moment.” Rebecca smiled and handed him a sleek tablet computer. “Please enter your password.”

Oliver froze. There, he realized that he didn’t know the card’s password. 

Without it, he was nothing more than a stranger holding a card that wasn’t his; At least, not according to his current memory.

He decided to try his birthday.

[Password Incorrect]

‘Damn,’ Oliver thought, his heart pounding.

At the same time, Rebecca’s smile faltered slightly, her eyes narrowing as she observed him. 

Doubts began to surface in her mind. 

‘Did I make an incorrect judgment? Is this man really the card’s owner, or did he somehow get his hands on it by other means?’

Still, Rebecca forced herself to remain calm. 

But now, her gaze was sharp, ready to act if Oliver proved to be someone other than who she thought he was.

Oliver furrowed his brow, trying to think. ‘There has to be something…’

He stared at the screen for a few seconds. 

Suddenly, a faint memory flickered, almost vague at the back of his mind.

It was a sequence of numbers that he used before, although he couldn’t remember where or when.

Oliver typed in the numbers and clicked enter. 

He bit his lip, knowing that Rebecca would also doubt him now if he got the password wrong for the second time.

[Password Correct]

Oliver sighed in relief as the card unlocked, but it was quickly replaced by astonishment as the screen displayed a long string of numbers.