Ascension of the Untouchable Billionaire.

Chapter 3. The Lion.

The silence that followed Noah’s reveal was sudden, lasting only as long as it took for the absurdity of the situation to sink into Joyce and Anna’s minds.

Then both of them erupted in a chorus of scornful laughter.

"A card? That ugly thing? You expect us to believe that's a real Apex Sovereign card?" Anna shrieked, clutching her bronze card as if Noah's presence threatened to tarnish its meager glow. "Please! You probably found it in a dumpster, you lowlife. Or worse, you stole it!"

Joyce huffed, her voice dripping with venom. "He's probably trying to scam the bank! I bet he's part of some fraud ring. Mark my words, that card is fake, and he'll be arrested any minute now. Good riddance! We were worried about being implicated by you, Noah, and I'm glad that Nicole divorced you! You're nothing but a criminal!"

Noah's jaw tightened. 

He was used to their insults, their petty jabs at his social standing. 

But their accusations of theft and fraud were a step too far. He hadn't stolen a thing in his life and he wouldn't start now.

Noah looked down at the matte-black surface. It felt heavy in his hand, unnaturally cold. "I didn't steal it," he said, his voice a low, steady rumble that contrasted sharply with Joyce’s screeching. "It was given to me by someone who seemed to think it belonged in my pocket."

"Given to you!" Anna shrieked, her eyes wide with mock wonder. "Oh, of course! A mysterious benefactor just handed you a credit line? Was it a fairy godmother, Noah?"

She turned to the lead security guard, who was watching the exchange with growing impatience. "Sir, are you really going to let this happen? This man is standing on the steps of the most prestigious bank in the country, waving around a stolen artifact of the global elite. He’s probably part of some fraud ring. If you don't arrest him now, the bank’s board will have your head for allowing such a security breach.”

At those words the guard stepped forward, his eyes locking on Noah's.

He had already made up his mind. 

The Nicholson women were known to be clients of the bank, even if only at the lowest tier. 

This grease-stained man was clearly out of place.

"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to hand over the card," the guard said, his voice devoid of warmth. "We need to verify its authenticity."

"I'm not handing it over to you," Noah replied, his grip tightening on the card. "I'll show it to someone inside the bank."

"Don't be ridiculous," Anna scoffed. "You think they're going to let you waltz in there with that… that piece of trash? You're delusional. Just give it up, Noah. You're only making things worse for yourself."

The guard stepped closer, his hand hovering near his baton. "Sir, you're obstructing justice. If you don't comply, I'm authorized to use force."

Noah stood his ground, his eyes fixed on the guard's. 

He wasn't going to back down.

He didn't know whether Rebecca had lied to him or not, but it was his only lead, his only chance to understand the strange events that had turned his life upside down.

" Do your worst.”

The tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a knife. 

Suddenly, a voice cut through the noise, smooth and sharp as a shard of glass.

"What is going on here?"

Everyone turned to see a woman approaching, her presence commanding immediate attention. 

She was impossibly tall, easily five foot ten on her red stilettos, towering over many of the men there. 

Her skin was the color of rich caramel, and her dark eyes held an intelligence that seemed to see right through you. 

Her charcoal-grey pencil skirt and silk blouse were tailored so precisely they looked like armor, highlighting a silhouette that would have been at home on a Parisian runway. 

Her hair was a shock of platinum blonde, cut into a sharp, asymmetrical bob that framed a face of icy, Gallic beauty.

This was Chantel Dubois, Senior Director of Apex Sovereign Bank, and she was not someone to be trifled with. 

She exuded an air of authority that made even the most seasoned executives in the city tremble. She was known for her ruthless efficiency, her unwavering loyalty to the bank, and her utter disdain for incompetence.

“Madam Director!" The head security shouted in surprise, eyes going wide in fear.

Joyce seeing a chance to suck up to power, immediately composed herself, smoothing her skirt and putting on a face of distress. "Oh, Director Dubois! Thank god you’re here. We were just assisting your security. This vagrant, this thug, is trying to pass off a stolen Sovereign card. He even assaulted me! He’s a dangerous fraud.”

Chantel didn't look at Joyce. Her eyes, the color of a winter sea, were locked on the object in Noah’s hand.

She went deathly still.

The air around her seemed to crackle. She bypassed Miller, bypassed the Nicholsons, and walked straight into Noah’s personal space. The scent of jasmine and expensive tobacco trailed after her. 

She didn't look at his grease-stained coveralls. She looked at the matte-black card with the gold lion emblem.

She knew that emblem.

 She saw it in her nightmares and her most ambitious dreams. 

It was the Lion of the Nexus.

"You," Chantel whispered, her voice trembling—not with anger, but with a shock so profound it bordered on terror.

She turned to the head of security, who was still holding his handcuffs.

SLAP.

The sound echoed off the marble like a gunshot. The man's head snapped to the side, his cap flying off his head. 

He stumbled back, clutching his flaming cheek, his eyes wide with shock.

"Director?" The man stammered.

"You idiot! You blind, pathetic excuse for a watchman!" Chantel hissed, her French accent thickening with her rage. "Do you have any idea what you have done? Do you have any inkling of whose presence you are in?"

"But... but look at him, Ma'am!" He protested, gesturing to Noah. "He’s a mechanic! The ladies said—"

"I do not care if he is dressed in the rags of a beggar!" Chantel roared, her composure finally breaking into a terrifying display of authority.

"He holds the Sovereign. There are nine in the world. Nine! And you tried to put 'handcuffs' on him?" She turned to the lead guard, her eyes spitting sparks. "You are fired. Not just from this bank. I will ensure you never work security in this hemisphere again. Hand over your badge and clear your locker. Now!"

The man turned pale, his jaw dropping as the reality of his career ending crashed down on him. 

He scrambled away, not daring to look back.

Joyce and Anna stood frozen, their mouths hanging open in a twin expression of horror.

"Director, surely there’s a mistake," Joyce stammered, stepping forward, her voice trembling. 

"That’s Noah. He’s a nobody. He fixes cars for a living. He must have picked that card up in the trash or... or stolen it from a real client! You have to call the police!"

Chantel turned her gaze toward Joyce, and the older woman visibly flinched. 

It was like being stared down by a shark.

"You," Chantel said, her voice dropping to a terrifying, quiet register. "You are Joyce Nicholson? The holder of a Bronze membership?"

"Yes! Yes, and we’ve always been loyal—"

"Silence." Chantel reached out and snatched the bronze card right out of Anna’s hand. 

Before they could protest, she snapped it in half with a sharp crack.

"Hey! That’s ours!" Anna cried out.

"Not anymore," Chantel said, tossing the pieces into the gutter at Noah’s feet. "You have insulted a guest of the highest order. You have brought filth and noise to the steps of this institution and attempted to use our security as your personal hit-squad. Your membership is revoked. Your assets currently held within this bank will be liquidated and returned to you via courier by the end of the business day. You are persona non grata. If you ever set foot on Apex property again, I will have you prosecuted for trespassing until you are penniless."

"You can't do that!" Joyce wailed, her face turning a ghastly shade of grey. "Steven Crestwood will hear about this! He’s our benefactor!"

"Let him come," Chantel sneered, her lip curling in a beautiful, predatory smile. "I would enjoy explaining to the Crestwood heir why his associates are so staggeringly ignorant."

She turned back to Noah, her entire demeanor shifting in an instant. 

She bowed, a deep, respectful tilt of the head that caused her platinum hair to fall forward to cover her cheeks alluringly.

"Monsieur……" she began softly, her voice now filled with a melodic reverence, pausing as she glanced at Noah expectantly.

Jolting slightly and feeling his cheeks redden from the address, he supplied, still feeling a little dazed by the recent series of events, "Stone," 

"Monsieur Stone," Chantel practically purred, her eyes locking onto his.

"Please, forgive the incompetence of these idiots. They do not understand the weight of the name you carry. I am Chantel and I am at your absolute disposal. Please... step inside. Let us rectify this insult in the comfort of the private suite."

She turned to the remaining security guards. "Escort these women off the premises. And make sure they never set foot in this bank again."

The guards, their faces grim, moved forward to carry out her orders.

"You can't do this!" Anna shrieked as they grabbed each of their arms. "We're VIPs!"

Chantel's laughter was cold and devoid of humor. "Not anymore you're not. Now

, get out."

Joyce and Anna, their faces red with humiliation and fury, were dragged away by the guards, their protests echoing through the lobby.