CHAPTER 7
Author: Jace Draven
last update2025-10-21 00:11:16

The cab came to a stop in front of the towering glass building that looked like it was covered in diamonds under the sun. Darren stepped out slowly, staring up at the large golden sign that read, GOLD CHEST BANK

For a few seconds, he just stood there, feeling small in front of such greatness. 

Darren adjusted his shirt nervously. It was the same faded one he had worn the night before — clean, but still showing a faint stain near the chest pocket. His trousers were old too, the fabric a little rough around the edges.

He swallowed hard. “Come on, Darren,” he told himself quietly. “You can do this. You just came to withdraw money, not buy the whole bank.”

He took a deep breath and walked in.

As soon as he stepped out of the elevator that took him to the top floor, he breathed hard.

He noticed how quiet and different this floor felt. There were fewer people, and everything looked richer.

Behind a long, shiny counter sat a young woman with sharp eyes and red lipstick. Her name tag read Ava. She was pretty, but her expression carried pride.

Darren walked up to her desk with a polite smile.

“Hey, good morning,” he said softly. “I came to make a withdrawal.”

Ava looked up from her computer and blinked twice. Her eyes scanned him slowly from head to toe — the old shirt, the plain trousers, the worn shoes. Her lips curved slightly, like she was holding back a laugh.

“Sorry?” she said in a sweet but mocking tone. “You… came to make a withdrawal? Up here?”

“Yes, please,” Darren said politely, reaching into his pocket and pulling out one of his black cards. “I’d like to withdraw some money from this account.”

Ava glanced at the card, then at him again, her brows furrowing. “You’re joking, right?”

“No,” Darren said, still calm. “That’s my card.”

Ava gave a short laugh. “Your card? This is the Elite Section. You can’t just walk in from the street and claim you have a black card. Are you one of the janitors?”

Darren blinked in confusion. “Janitor? No, I—”

She cut him off quickly. “Then what are you doing up here? Workers are supposed to stay on the lower floors, not wander around where clients handle business.” She looked around as if searching for someone. “You could get fired for being here, you know.”

Darren frowned slightly, but his tone stayed respectful. “I don’t work here, miss. I came to make a withdrawal. This card belongs to me.”

Ava leaned back, crossing her arms. “Do you expect me to believe that?” she asked. “People who use this card come here with bodyguards and drivers, not wearing… that.” Her eyes darted down at his shirt. “Is that a stain?”

He looked down. “It’s just old, that’s all.”

“Exactly my point,” she said with a smirk. “Now, please head back downstairs before I call security.”

Darren sighed quietly. “Please, just check it. Run the card. You’ll see my name there.”

But she didn’t even touch the card. “I’m not wasting system time on a fake card,” she said sharply. “Now move along before I get you in trouble.”

Darren was beginning to feel embarrassed, but he tried again. “Hey, I promise you it’s not fake. I just need to make a small withdrawal.”

Her patience finally snapped. “Enough!” she said, slamming her palm lightly on the desk. “You think I don’t know when someone’s lying? You want me to believe that someone dressed like you owns an Elite black card? Do you even know who uses those? People who own companies worth billions!”

“I’m not lying,” Darren said quietly, his heart thumping faster.

Ava glared at him. “You’ve got some nerve. I don’t know what game you’re playing, but I’m ending it now.” She reached under her desk and pressed the small red button on the side.

A soft alarm went off, faint but enough to alert others on the floor.

Darren’s eyes widened. “Wait, what are you doing?”

“Calling security,” she said flatly. “You’re clearly not supposed to be here.”

Within seconds, a tall man in a navy-blue suit came hurrying from the side hallway. His badge read Mr. Donovan — Branch Manager. He stopped by Ava’s desk, looking at Darren suspiciously.

“What’s going on here, Ava?” he asked in a firm voice.

“Sir,” Ava began quickly, “this man came up here saying he wants to withdraw money using a black card. Look at him, he’s not one of our clients. I think he might be a cleaner or a fraud trying to use a fake card to get access to our system  and hack into the funds.”

Mr. Donovan looked Darren up and down, his brows narrowing. “Sir, who are you exactly? This area is restricted to our high-profile customers.”

“I’m a customer,” Darren said quietly. “I only came to withdraw some money.”

The manager frowned deeper. “A customer? What’s your name?”

“Darren Wayne,” he replied simply.

The name Hilton never even crossed his mind at that moment, Darren Wayne was the name he had lived with all his life.

Mr. Donovan turned to Ava with a smirk. “Do we have anyone named Darren Wayne on our elite list?”

Ava typed quickly, pretending to search, then looked up with mock seriousness. “No, sir. Not even close.”

The manager gave a small, sarcastic laugh. “I didn’t think so. Mr. Wayne, do you realize that the people who use this floor handle transactions worth millions of dollars daily? This is not some local savings bank.”

“I understand, sir,” Darren said softly. “But please, if you could just check the card—”

“Enough,” the manager snapped, his tone turning cold. “Do you take us for fools? This card looks real, but it’s obviously stolen or fake. Now tell me the truth… where did you get it?”

“I didn’t steal it,” Darren said, his voice rising slightly. “It’s mine.”

Ava scoffed loudly. “Oh please. Just look at him. Do you really think a man wearing worn-out shoes and a stained shirt is walking around with a billionaires’ card?”

A few nearby staff members were now watching, whispering and chuckling quietly. Darren could feel their eyes burning into his back. He swallowed hard, trying to keep calm, but his face was hot with shame.

The manager shook his head. “I’ll give you one chance to walk out quietly before I call the police.”

“I’m not leaving,” Darren said softly, though his hands were shaking. “I’m not doing anything wrong. I came to withdraw my money, and I have every right to be here.”

Ava stared at him like he was crazy. “You really don’t know when to stop, do you?” she said coldly.

The manager turned to her. “Call the police, Ava. Now.”

Without hesitation, Ava picked up the phone and dialed. “Security,” she said into the receiver. “Come to the top floor immediately. We have an intruder trying to access a private account. Possibly a hacker.”

Darren froze. “Wait — what?”

Ava ignored him completely. “Yes,” she continued. “He’s pretending to be a client. Please come fast.”

Darren took a step back, panic flooding through him. “You’re misunderstanding everything! Please, just check the card. You’ll see I’m telling the truth!”

But the manager folded his arms, unimpressed. “I’ve heard that before,” he said. “Every scammer claims to be telling the truth. You can explain yourself to the police.”

Darren’s throat tightened. He looked around helplessly. Everyone nearby was staring now.

Darren clenched his fists at his sides, trying not to show them fear. He couldn’t believe this was happening. He didn't know anyone would humiliate him again. No matter how much had changed in his life, people still looked at him like he was nothing.

He whispered under his breath, “I don’t deserve this.”

The elevator doors opened with a sharp ding, and two security guards stepped out. One of them asked, “Where’s the intruder?”

Ava pointed straight at Darren. “That’s him.”

The guards walked toward him briskly. “Young boy. You look like a student, shouldn't you be in school? But it seems instead of trying to become somebody through school, you have chosen to be a criminal. Come with us,” one said firmly.

Darren’s heart pounded so loudly he could barely hear. He held his black card close to his chest, his hands trembling. “I’m not a criminal,” he said calmly, his voice breaking. “You’re making a mistake.”

“Tell that to the police,” the manager said coldly. “Take him downstairs.”

As the guards reached for him, Darren stepped back, shaking his head in disbelief. “I just came to withdraw my own money,” he said again, more to himself than to them.

“He is stubborn. I guess we have to use force on him,” Ava said to the security…

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  • CHAPTER 8

    Ava stood with her arms folded, smirking like she had just won a war.“I told you,” she said, tossing her hair proudly. “He’s just a scammer pretending to be rich. Look at him! Does he look like someone who owns even ten thousand?”The manager, Mr. Donovan, nodded sharply. “The evidence is clear enough. He’s carrying a stolen card. Arrest him and take him out of here before he causes more trouble.”Darren’s chest tightened. He looked from one angry face to another, feeling his stomach twist painfully. “Please,” he said in a calm but shaky voice. “You’re making a mistake. I didn’t steal this card. I can prove it’s mine.”One of the officers frowned. “And how will you prove that?”“Let me use the card,” Darren said. “If I’m lying, the machine won’t let me access anything. I know the PIN. I can prove I’m the owner.”The manager rolled his eyes. “Oh, this will be good,” he said sarcastically. “Fine then, let’s see your big act. Go ahead and embarrass yourself further.”The officer holding

  • CHAPTER 7

    The cab came to a stop in front of the towering glass building that looked like it was covered in diamonds under the sun. Darren stepped out slowly, staring up at the large golden sign that read, GOLD CHEST BANKFor a few seconds, he just stood there, feeling small in front of such greatness. Darren adjusted his shirt nervously. It was the same faded one he had worn the night before — clean, but still showing a faint stain near the chest pocket. His trousers were old too, the fabric a little rough around the edges.He swallowed hard. “Come on, Darren,” he told himself quietly. “You can do this. You just came to withdraw money, not buy the whole bank.”He took a deep breath and walked in.As soon as he stepped out of the elevator that took him to the top floor, he breathed hard.He noticed how quiet and different this floor felt. There were fewer people, and everything looked richer.Behind a long, shiny counter sat a young woman with sharp eyes and red lipstick. Her name tag read Ava

  • CHAPTER 6

    Darren sat quietly at the long glass table, the golden pen still resting between his fingers. The papers he had just signed lay neatly in front of him. His name, Jeremiah Hilton was printed boldly at the top, followed by the official stamp of the Hilton Conglomerate.He exhaled slowly, his chest rising and falling as the reality of what had just happened sank in. Just yesterday, he had been a poor student, counting coins to buy food. Now, he was sitting in a mansion, signing ownership papers worth billions. It felt unreal, like he was still dreaming and someone would soon wake him up.Across the table, his grandfather smiled warmly at him. “You’ve done it, my boy,” Mr. Hilton said with a voice filled with pride. “You’ve taken your rightful place.”Darren nodded faintly, still lost for words. “It’s just… so much to take in, sir,” he muttered, staring at the paper again.Mr. Hilton chuckled softly and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “You’ll get used to it, Jeremiah. This life…

  • CHAPTER 5

    The drive to the Hilton mansion still felt like a dream Darren wasn’t sure he deserved to be in.The last thing he remembered clearly was Helena’s hand holding his, the lights flashing past the car window. When the convoy finally stopped in front of a massive gate taller than anything he had ever seen, Darren could only stare. The word HILTON gleamed in gold across the iron arch, guarded by men in uniform.As the gates swung open and the cars rolled inside, the magnitude of it all hit him — the fountains spraying water, the marble driveway, the line of luxury cars parked neatly like a showroom.When the car door opened, the scent of roses and expensive cologne filled the air. Helena helped him out, and a line of servants bowed deeply, one after another.The echo of “Welcome home, young master” followed him up the steps. Darren could barely speak as he watched them bow one after the other.A while ago he was just a delivery guy, now he was being bowed to and called Young Master. Impos

  • CHAPTER 4

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  • CHAPTER 3

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