Shadow of Saul

Chapter 3. The wolf's Den.

"What in God's name is going on here?"

The voice broke through the tension like a hammer through plate glass. 

Although feminine, the voice was one of absolute, unquestionable authority, cold as liquid nitrogen.

The security guard froze, his baton hovering inches from Saul’s shoulder. He turned, his face draining of color faster than a spilled bucket of paint.

Stepping out from the bank’s revolving doors was a woman who made the atmosphere on the street feel suddenly heavier. 

She was tall—impossibly so—easily 5'10" even before factoring in the black Louboutin stilettos that added another four inches to her height. 

She wore a charcoal pinstripe suit tailored so precisely it looked like a second skin, hugging a figure that was curvaceous yet intimidatingly athletic.

Her hair was a cascade of dark mahogany waves, but it was her eyes that held everyone captive. 

They were amber, predatory, and currently narrowed in lethal displeasure.

This was Veronica Hale. 

The Senior Director of Imperial Bank. And she looked like she was about to execute someone.

"Director Hale!" the lead guard stammered, lowering his baton but not holstering it. "We... We have a situation. This vagrant is harassing our VIP clients and attempting to pass off a fraudulent card."

Veronica didn't even look at him. 

She descended the marble steps, her gaze fixed solely on Saul. Or rather, on the matte black card in his hand.

She stopped in front of him, towering over him by a good two inches in her heels. 

Up close, Saul could smell her perfume. It was something spicy, almost exotic and definitely expensive.

Just the proximity to her alone made sweat bead on his forehead.

"Let me see that," she murmured, voice as sharp as a knife. 

It wasn't a request.

Saul, feeling a strange sense of nervousness amidst the chaos, held the card out.

Veronica took it with manicured fingers. 

She didn't look at the magnetic strip. 

She ran her thumb over the golden wolf emblem embossed on the front. 

Her amber eyes widened, a flicker of genuine shock cracking her icy mask.

There were only nine of these in existence. The Supreme Black Card. The Wolf’s Pass. 

It wasn't just a simple credit card.

 It was the literal key to the global economy. 

Kings killed for these. And many more had committed far greater sins all just to have such a prize in their possession.

And yet, this man covered in construction dust, smelling of sweat and cement, was holding one.

“This is an exclusive card." She breathed in awe.

"Exclusive?" Saul echoed, feeling a knot of confusion tighten in his stomach. 

"He stole it!" Michaela screeched from the sidelines, sensing the shift in the air and hating it. "Look at him! He probably mugged someone in an alley! Arrest him, Director! He pushed me!"

"Yeah," the guard said, emboldened by the screeching woman. "He’s clearly a thief. I was just about to take him down to the station—"

CRACK.

The sound was sickeningly loud.

The guard’s head snapped to the side. He stumbled back, clutching his cheek, his eyes bulging in disbelief.

Veronica Sterling had just backhanded him. Hard.

"Shut up," she hissed, her voice low and venomous. "You incompetent moron. Do you have any idea what you are looking at?"

"M-Ma'am?" the guard whimpered, blood trickling from his lip.

"This is a Supreme Black Card," Veronica announced, her voice carrying to the gathered crowd. She turned to Saul, her expression shifting from rage to a professional, almost reverent curiosity. "And it is bio-coded. It cannot be stolen. It cannot be used by anyone other than the registered owner or their direct proxy. If he is holding it, and the security systems didn't lock down the block when he entered the perimeter, it means the card accepts him."

She handed the card back to Saul with two hands, a gesture of extreme respect.

"I apologize, Sir," she said, her voice smooth as silk. "My staff has been... lacking."

"You’re firing him?" Clara gasped, stepping forward, her face twisting in ugly indignation. "Are you insane? My mother is a Bronze Card holder! We demand you arrest this man! He’s a nobody! He’s my sister’s charity case ex-husband!"

Michaela scrambled up, abandoning her fake injury. "Exactly! I know this man, Director. He digs ditches for a living. There is no way, no way in hell that card is real. He’s running a scam, and you’re falling for it!"

Veronica turned her gaze to the Marions. It was like a dragon looking at a pair of noisy insects.

"A scam?" Veronica repeated, arching a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. "You think someone can counterfeit a nano-carbon alloy card with a quantum-encrypted chip? You think a 'nobody' walks around with a direct line to the Global Treasury in his pocket?"

"He's a liar!" Michaela shrieked, pointing a shaking finger at Saul. "It's all he knows how to do! Just call the police! I want him in handcuffs! If you don't, I’ll pull every cent I have out of this bank!"

Veronica laughed. 

It was a dark, throaty sound that lacked any humor.

"Please do," Veronica said coldly. "In fact, let me help you with that."

She pulled a sleek tablet from her inner suit pocket, tapped the screen three times, and looked up with a cruel smile.

"Michaela Marion. Account ending in 4490. Balance: one million, two hundred thousand. Mostly alimony settlements, I see." Veronica swiped her finger across the screen. "I have just flagged your accounts for review due to violation of our Code of Conduct regarding the harassment of Supreme Tier clients."

"What?" Michaela went pale.

"Your Bronze status is revoked," Veronica continued, her voice boring into them. "Your cards are deactivated effective immediately. You are no longer welcome at Imperial Bank. You have five minutes to vacate the premises before I have new security throw you into the street like the trash you are."

"You... you can't do that!" Clara cried, looking at her phone as a notification pinged. "My card just got declined! I have a spa appointment in an hour!"

"Not anymore," Veronica said, dismissing them. She turned back to the guard who was still clutching his face. "You’re fired. Get out of my sight before I press charges for assaulting a customer."

The guard didn't need to be told twice. 

He scrambled away, leaving his baton on the ground.

Michaela and Clara stood there, mouths agape, stripped of their power in seconds. They looked at Saul, waiting for him to gloat, to laugh.

But Saul just looked tired. 

He looked at them with eyes that had seen too much disappointment.

"Go home, Michaela," Saul said quietly. "Just go."

Veronica stepped closer to Saul, her presence enveloping him. "Sir? If you would follow me. We have a VIP suite waiting. We have much to discuss."

She extended a hand toward the bank's golden doors.

Saul hesitated, looking at the stunned women one last time, then nodded. 

“Call me Saul." He muttered to the woman, before he walked past his ex-mother-in-law, leaving her trembling with rage and fear on the sidewalk.