Vengeful Heir: The Rise of Ethan Bennett

Chapter Six

Ethan strolled into the bank, his casual attire and unassuming cap a perfect disguise. The last time he’d been in a bank like this, he was dressed in designer suits, the epitome of power and wealth.

Today, he looked more like someone who had wandered in to ask for directions. And that was the point. No one would suspect the man who held their futures in the palm of his hand was hiding behind the appearance of nobody.

He stood at the back, arms folded, observing the immaculate marble floors, the polished counters, and the overly eager bank employees scurrying to assist the wealthiest clients.

A faint smirk played on his lips. It was almost amusing how the air of superiority in places like this was thick enough to choke on.

Henry Steele strutted through the doors moments later, head held high, as if he were the one who owned the bank. Dressed in his tailored suit and flashing his trademark smug grin, Henry commanded attention.

Bank managers fawned over him, as they always did, and Ethan watched the scene unfold, his amusement growing.

Henry sauntered up to the counter, oblivious to Ethan’s presence in the back. "I need to speak with Mr. Daniels," he said with a wave of his hand, as though the simple act of asking was beneath him.

"Right away, Mr. Steele," the clerk stammered, practically tripping over her own feet as she rushed to get the bank manager.

Ethan settled into a chair, watching the show. He didn’t need to do anything yet. This was Henry’s moment to bask in false confidence.

Moments later, Mr. Daniels, the bank manager, appeared, beaming at Henry like a proud father at a school play.

"Mr. Steele, what a pleasure! How can we assist you today?"

Henry puffed out his chest, ready to charm his way through what he assumed would be a simple request.

"I’m here to discuss the Steele family’s loan. We need to expand our holdings, and I’m sure the bank will be more than happy to accommodate us."

Daniels nodded eagerly, all too ready to comply.

"Of course, of course. We’ve always had a strong relationship with your family."

As Ethan listened, he couldn’t help but chuckle quietly. It was like watching someone lay out a house of cards, unaware of the gust of wind about to knock it all down.

But before Henry could continue his grandiose demands, something shifted. Daniels' smile faltered as he glanced down at his computer screen. His eyes flickered with hesitation, then confusion. Ethan leaned forward slightly, intrigued.

"Mr. Steele," Daniels began slowly, his voice uncertain, "it seems there’s an issue with your accounts."

Henry’s face darkened. "Issue? What issue?"

Daniels hesitated, glancing nervously at the other employees as if hoping one of them could save him.

"Well, sir, it appears your company’s financial standing isn’t as strong as we initially thought."

Henry blinked, clearly unused to hearing anything less than glowing praise about his business. "That’s ridiculous. Steele Industries is as solid as ever."

Daniels tapped at the keyboard again, his discomfort growing. "I’m afraid the numbers say otherwise. It seems your stock has taken a significant hit recently."

Ethan leaned back, folding his arms with a grin.

 "And so it begins."

Henry’s face turned an alarming shade of red. "That’s absurd! There must be a mistake. Fix it!"

Daniels coughed awkwardly, clearly uncomfortable with the idea of contradicting someone like Henry Steele.

"I’m afraid we can’t approve the loan at this time, sir. Your company is too high-risk for us to extend further credit."

The silence that followed was almost painful. Henry stood there, mouth agape, unable to process the rejection. He looked like a man who had never heard the word "no" in his life.

Ethan’s grin widened, but he kept his head low. This was better than he’d imagined.

Before Henry could explode, the bank manager’s gaze drifted to the back of the room, where Ethan sat, blending in with the other customers. Mr. Daniels gave him a quick once over, clearly mistaking him for someone of much lesser means.

"And you, sir," Daniels said, his voice suddenly laced with disdain. "Can I help you with something? Perhaps you’d like to apply for... ah, assistance?"

Ethan raised an eyebrow, suppressing a laugh.  "Assistance? Oh, this just keeps getting better."

"Just observing," Ethan replied casually, but the glint in his eyes said more than his words ever could.

Daniels didn’t seem to catch on, or maybe he just didn’t care. He sniffed dismissively, already turning his attention back to Henry. "Well, sir, if you don’t have any other questions, we’ll be closing your account for now."

Henry sputtered, his indignation coming out in disjointed protests. "Closing, closing my account? Do you have any idea who I am?"

Ethan bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from laughing out loud. It was too perfect, Henry, humiliated, his ego deflated right there in front of everyone, while the man responsible for it all sat quietly in the back, enjoying the spectacle.

"I’m sure there’s something we can work out, Mr. Steele," Daniels said, his tone sickly sweet now that he knew Henry couldn’t get what he wanted. "Perhaps in a few months, if your financial situation improves."

Henry stood there, fists clenched at his sides, completely at a loss. For a moment, Ethan almost felt sorry for him. Almost. But then he remembered all the times Henry and his family had belittled him, treated him like nothing more than an outsider, a failure.

Ethan rose from his seat, his smirk hidden beneath the brim of his cap. "Guess you’ll have to wait for that loan," he muttered quietly, walking past Henry as he headed for the door.

Henry didn’t notice him, too absorbed in his own embarrassment to register the stranger in the worn jacket slipping by.

But Daniels, the bank manager, glanced at Ethan again, confusion flickering in his eyes as if something about him seemed familiar, but not enough to warrant a second look.

Ethan stepped out of the bank and into the bustling street, the fresh air hitting him like a breath of freedom. The humiliation wasn’t his to carry today. No, that belonged to Henry Steele, and soon, it would spread to the rest of his family. This was just the beginning.

He walked away with a spring in his step, hands in his pockets, his mind already racing with the next phase of his plan. The tables were turning, and they had no idea.

As for Mr. Daniels, the man who had just offered him “assistance,” Ethan made a mental note to revisit this bank when the time was right.

Maybe then, Mr. Daniels would realize the man he’d so quickly dismissed wasn’t the one in need of help after all.

For now, though, Ethan let the irony of the situation wash over him.

They were so concerned with appearances, with their perception of power, that they couldn’t see the real game being played.

But they would. Soon enough.

***