Shadow of Saul

Chapter 4. Heavy is the Head?

The heavy glass doors of the Imperial Bank shut out the noise of the city, sealing Saul in a world of hushed whispers and air-conditioned silence.

Outside, on the curb, Michaela Marion was practically vibrating with rage.

"That bitch!" she hissed, fumbling for her phone. "That absolute bitch! And Saul! The audacity of that man!"

"Mom, what do we do?" Clara whined, staring at her useless credit card. "If Ephraim finds out we got banned..."

"Shut up, Clara, I'm thinking!" Michaela dialed a number, her fingers stabbing the screen. She put the phone to her ear, her face contorting into a mask of tearful victimhood the moment the line connected.

"Daniella? Oh, Daniella, thank god you picked up!" Michaela wailed, her voice loud enough to turn heads on the street.

"Mom?" Daniella’s voice came through, sounding distracted. "I’m getting ready for the charity gala. What’s wrong?"

"It’s Saul!" Michaela sobbed. "He’s gone crazy, Daniella! We saw him at the bank. He... he attacked me!"

"What?" Daniella’s voice sharpened.

"He was trying to rob the bank! Or scam them, I don't know!" Michaela lied effortlessly, the venom spilling from her lips. "He had some fake card, and when we tried to stop him from committing a crime, he shoved me! I think I bruised my tailbone! And then... oh, it’s terrible... he must be working with someone on the inside. Some corrupt manager revoked our cards to cover up his tracks!"

"He hit you?" Daniella asked, horror seeping into her tone.

"Yes! And he’s involved in fraud! Daniella, you have to talk to him. He’s going to ruin your reputation if he gets arrested!"

Inside the bank's elevator, Saul’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He ignored it. It buzzed again. And again.

"Popular man," Veronica noted, her eyes scanning him up and down. She wasn't looking at the dirt on his clothes; she was looking at the build beneath them. Broad shoulders, powerful arms. She liked what she saw.

"Not really," Saul muttered. 

He pulled out his cracked smartphone, then stared at the screen. 

It was Daniella.

He had an inkling as to why she was calling.

He sighed and answered. "Look, I—"

"How could you?" Daniella’s voice was ice cold, cutting him off instantly. "My mother just called me in tears, Saul. She said you hit her?"

Saul closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Daniella, you know me. You lived with me for three years. Do you really think I would hit an old woman?"

"I don't know who you are anymore!" she snapped. "Mom says you’re running around with a fake credit card? Trying to scam the bank? Saul, are you on drugs? Is this why you wouldn't take the settlement money? Because you’re involved in some criminal ring?"

"It’s not a fake card," Saul said, his voice hardening. "And I didn't touch her. She fell because she tried to steal a ring from me."

"Stop lying!" Daniella shouted. "God, this is humiliating. I have a gala to attend, and I have to worry about my ex-husband getting arrested for fraud? Do the right thing, Saul. Turn yourself in. Go to the police station right now and confess before you drag my company into your mess."

"Turn myself in?" Saul let out a dry, bitter chuckle. "For what? For existing?"

"For hurting my family! For being a criminal! God! I am so disappointed in you. I thought you were at least a decent man, but you’re just..."

"Just what?" Saul asked softly.

"Pathetic," she hissed.

Something inside Saul finally died. 

The last little ember of affection he held for his wife was snuffed out.

"Goodbye, Daniella," he said.

"You– Wait what do you mean? I'm not done! Don't you dare hang up on m—"

He ended the call. Then when that didn't feel enough, he turned the device off completely.

The elevator dinged.

"Trouble in paradise?" Veronica asked. She was leaning against the elevator wall, watching him with a hint of curiosity.

"More than trouble. I got divorced as of two hours ago," Saul grunted.

"Ahhh," Veronica grimaced. "How …. Unfortunate."

Saul just shrugged. “It is what it is." He said lamely.

She led him down a plush corridor into a private viewing room that looked more like a palace drawing room. 

There was a mahogany desk, leather armchairs, and a view of the city skyline that cost millions.

"Sit," she ordered, gesturing to the chair behind the desk.

Saul sat immediately, squirming a bit as he did so. 

He felt ridiculous in his dirty work clothes, sitting in a chair worth more than his car.

Thankfully Veronica went straight to point and placed a sleek, transparent terminal in front of him. "Insert the card."

Saul’s hand trembled slightly as he slid the black card into the slot.

‘ENTER PASSWORD.’

"First of May," he whispered. 

He typed in the numbers in sequence. 0-5-0-1.

The screen flashed green.

‘WELCOME, CHAIRMAN.’

ACCOUNT BALANCE:

Saul stared. Then he blinked and blinked again. But when the digits remained the same, he rubbed his eyes with his dirty knuckles and stared again.

The numbers stretched across the screen.

‘$3,450,000,000,000.00’

"Trillions," Saul breathed, the air leaving his lungs. "It... it’s real." 

It means that Kim had been telling the truth. 

She didn't lie.

In his distraction, Veronica took the chance to lean over his shoulder, her proximity adding to the feelings of suffocation.

Confidently, she rested a hand on the back of his chair, her fingers brushing the fabric of his dirty shirt. 

She wasn't looking at the screen; she knew the number. She was looking at him.

"Of course it's real," she murmured, her voice dropping an octave. "The Kinai Group holds assets in every major sector. Energy, tech, shipping. And you... you are the lost king."

She walked around the desk and leaned back against the edge of it, crossing her long legs. Her skirt rode up slightly, revealing toned, powerful thighs, lashes fanning across her high cheekbones.

Veronica was a woman who knew of her appeal, and had turned that knowledge into a weapon, against friend and foe alike.

A man with this much money was a man she wanted to be indebted to her.

"You must be so overwhelmed," she observed, her eyes gleaming. "You have the world at your fingertips, and you don't know where to start. I can help you, Saul. I can manage this for you. I can be... whatever you need me to be."

She leaned forward, her face inches from his. "We have investments everywhere. Real estate, private islands... people." She breathed, “Whatever you want~" 

Saul looked up at her. 

Surprisingly, his gaze never fell to her chest or her legs. 

Instead his gaze met her own terror, turning their mercurial depths almost liquid. "I... I just wanted to buy a steak for dinner." He stammered.

Veronica paused and her seduction faltered slightly. 

He was genuinely clueless. 

It was... surprisingly endearing.

"Right," she said, straightening up and smoothing her jacket. She cleared her throat, shifting back to business mode. "Well, you can buy a lot of steaks with the money you have here. But first, we need to integrate you. There is a charity gala tonight. The bank is a major sponsor. I want you to come as my guest."

"A gala?" Saul shook his head. "No. I’m not doing that. Right now all I want to do is go home and get some sleep."

"Ayah, don't be like that! Just look at the catalog," Veronica insisted, sliding a glossy brochure across the desk. "It’s an auction with the proceeds going to the orphanages. Just look."

Saul sighed and flipped the book open. He scanned the pages listlessly. Antique vases. Paintings. Vintage cars.

Then he froze.

Item #45. The Twin Wolf Ring.

It was a heavy band of dark metal, identical to the one in his pocket. 

But the engraving was different. The one he had depicted a wolf howling. 

This one depicted a wolf snarling.

The text below read: ‘Believed to be part of a set. Origin unknown.’

Suddenly, a sharp, blinding pain spiked through Saul’s skull..

Fire. The smell of burning rubber. A child screaming. He saw bloody hands. 

And those hands were reaching for him.

 "No!"

"Argh!" Saul gripped his head, groaning.

"Saul?" Veronica’s voice was sharp. She was at his side instantly, her hand on his shoulder. "What is it?"

"The ring," Saul gasped, pointing at the page. "I know that ring. I... I need it."

She paused, “What?" 

He looked up at her, his eyes burning with a sudden, fierce intensity. Gone was the confusion as he pinned her with a gaze that made something in her shudder. "You….. promised to help me with anything. I need that ring, ma'am."

Veronica was expressionless for two long seconds. Then her lips curled, teeth showing as she grinned at him. It was an almost genuine one this time, sharp and curious. "One,” she began, lifting a single manicured finger, " Don't call me Ma'am. Call me Veronica and two, of course we will both go to the gala. I assure you, we will find your ring. And you are going to buy it." 

Then she paused, as she looked him up and down, curling her lip at his stained vest.

"But not like that," she said. She picked up the office phone. "Get the tailor up here. Now. And tell him to bring the Italian silk. We have a Chairman to dress."