The Son-in-Law They Threw Away

Chapter 7: VVIP Guests

“Mister Piere! Are you not wrong to bow your head to this man?”

Stella’s voice was loud and full of disbelief. She still could not accept what she was seeing.

“Shut up!”

Piere’s sharp shout cut her off at once. Stella’s face turned red. She stepped back, embarrassed that the chairman had yelled at her in front of so many people.

Piere turned to Killian and spoke in a low, careful voice. “Do you know who he is? He is Mr Spencer. A person you should never offend. Do you understand that?”

Stella’s body went cold. She had worked in banks long enough to know that name. Everyone in the building knew it. Mr Spencer was not a normal rich man. His company was huge. One word from him could close a business or ruin a person’s life in a single day. No one in the city wanted to make that family angry.

The four guards who had grabbed Killian earlier were already shaking. They had watched the chairman of Royal Bank bow to the man they called a beggar only minutes ago. Their faces turned white.

“We’re finished,” one of them whispered.

Piere looked at them with hard eyes. “All four of you are sacked. Pack your things right now. I have already called the city authorities.”

The guards stumbled forward and dropped to their knees in front of Killian. They grabbed at his old jeans and begged in broken voices.

“Sir, please forgive us! We were stupid. We didn’t know who you were. We promise we will never act like that again. Please don’t let them fire us!”

Killian stepped back. He did not want their hands on him. He only wanted to finish his business and leave this place. But before he turned away, he glanced once at Stella. The look in his eyes was cold and quiet.

Piere understood the look at once. He spoke without raising his voice.

“From today you are also fired. No severance pay. Pack your things and take only this month’s salary. Then leave and do not come back.”

Stella’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. Tears filled her eyes. The four guards stayed on the ground, too scared to stand up. The people watching from the street and inside the bank stayed completely silent. They did not know who the poorly dressed man was, but they saw the chairman treat him with deep respect. That was enough to make every head lower a little.

Piere walked beside Killian into the bank. Staff members stepped aside quickly. No one spoke. They only watched the strange pair — one man in a perfect suit, the other in old clothes with a small tear on the sleeve — and felt the heavy air around them.

They reached Piere’s large office. The room was clean and quiet. Piere pointed to a long sofa.

“Please sit, Mr Spencer.”

Killian sat down without a word. Piere walked to the desk phone and pressed a button.

“Sophie. Come to my office. Now.”

A few seconds later a woman in her thirties hurried in. She was the bank manager. She stopped when she saw Piere standing respectfully beside a man in worn clothes. She did not dare ask any questions.

Piere held out the silver-grey card. “Miss Sophie, check this card.”

Sophie took it carefully and slid it into the card reader on the desk. The machine lit up green. It asked for the cardholder’s password. Piere handed the small device to Killian. Killian typed the numbers slowly. The screen changed to yellow and asked for the bank code. Sophie entered it with shaking fingers.

A long number appeared on the screen.

EUR 36,528,000,000.

Sophie stepped back so fast she almost dropped the machine. Her face went pale.

“I… this is…”

Piere leaned over and looked at the number. His eyes widened.

“What? That much?”

Both of them turned to Killian and bowed deeply at the same time. Their voices came out together, low and careful.

“Mr Spencer. Please accept our respect.”

They stayed bent, waiting. Killian looked at the number on the screen. Thirty-six billion euros. The amount felt unreal, like something from a dream. But the card was real. The machine was real. The two people bowing in front of him were real.

He kept his face calm even though his heart was beating hard inside his chest.

“Disburse one hundred thousand euros. I need it now.”

Piere straightened up at once. “Hurry. Fulfil Mr Spencer’s request immediately.”

Sophie almost ran out of the room. The door closed behind her with a soft click. Silence filled the office again.

Killian sat still on the sofa. He could still feel the push from the guard on his chest. He could still hear Stella’s voice ordering them to break his hands. The memory of the Smith family — the insults, the slaps, the way they threw him out like trash — mixed with the huge number he had just seen.

One hundred thousand euros was nothing compared to the full balance. But it was more money than he had held in his whole life. Enough to eat proper food. Enough to sleep in a real bed. Enough to start moving forward.

Sophie returned a few minutes later with a thick envelope. She placed it on the table in front of Killian with both hands and stepped back quickly.

“One hundred thousand euros, Mr Spencer. Please count it if you wish.”

Killian picked up the envelope. It felt heavy in his hand. He did not open it. He simply stood up.

Piere bowed again. “Is there anything else we can do for you, Mr Spencer?”

Killian looked at him for a short moment. “No. That is all for today.”

He walked toward the door. Piere and Sophie followed a few steps behind, still careful, still quiet. Outside the office, staff members lowered their heads as he passed. No one met his eyes.

When Killian stepped back into the main hall, the four fired guards and Stella were still there, standing near the side wall with boxes of their things. They looked at him with fear and something close to hate. Killian did not stop. He walked past them without a single word.

The glass doors opened. Fresh air hit his face. The street was still busy with people moving in every direction. None of them knew who he was.

Killian held the thick envelope under his arm and started walking. The two special cards sat heavy in his pocket. The number thirty-six billion stayed clear in his mind.

He thought of the Smith house. He thought of Granny Smith’s cold eyes, Julius hiding behind the big chair, Julietta’s raised hand ready to slap him, and the way they had called him useless for a whole year.

A small, hard smile touched his lips for the first time that day.

“You people over there,” he said quietly to himself. “Just wait. My turn is coming.”

He kept walking down the street, the envelope of cash pressed against his side. Behind him the Royal Bank doors closed with a soft sound. Far away, in a large house on the other side of the city, a phone began to ring.