Chapter 2

"Still lying?! You dare claim you're related to him?!"

Naomi didn't listen to a single word. Her spit practically flew into my face.

"A billionaire like Marcus Vance having an escort like you in his family? At least come up with a believable lie!"

Hearing that, Ryan’s face turned darker than a thundercloud.

Losing a thirty-million-dollar deposit was a career-ending disaster in private banking.

He turned his gaze toward me, his eyes cutting like daggers. "It was you?"

"Sir, it wasn't me..."

"Shut up!"

Ryan waved his hand in complete annoyance, cutting me off. "I don't care who you are. Causing a scene and costing us a VIP client is unacceptable. Security! Throw her out on the street!"

Naomi clung to his arm, leaning in close. "Ryan, we can't just let her off the hook that easily!"

"She cost us thirty million! She has to pay for the damage!"

Ryan frowned. "How?"

Naomi’s eyes flickered with malice. "Look at her clothes. Designer head to toe. That's a real Hermès bag on the table. She must be playing multiple sugar daddies to get that kind of cash!"

"She ruined our business today. We should make her compensate us!"

"And if she can't pay, we lock her up right here and make her parents bring cash to bail her out!"

"I'd love to see what kind of trash parents raised a home-wrecking slut like this!"

Ryan hesitated. Holding a kid hostage crossed a line.

Naomi stroked his arm, her voice turning sweet and cloying. "Ryan, sweetie... I'm doing this for the bank’s bottom line. Just trust me on this..."

She leaned closer, whispering into his ear, "Once we squeeze the money out of her... tonight, in your car at the parking garage... I’ll do whatever you want."

A greasy spark ignited in Ryan’s eyes. He slapped her backside. "Fine! Handle it your way!"

Given the green light, Naomi smirked with triumph. She walked over, grabbed my Hermès bag, and dumped everything onto the coffee table.

Notebooks, two plush keychains, and a sleek black titanium card spilled out.

Naomi’s sharp eyes caught the card immediately. She picked it up, inspected it, and burst into laughter.

"Look at this! She really is an escort—she even carries a fake Centurion card!"

"That's my card! Give it back!" I shouted in a panic.

Ignoring me, Naomi held the card up to Ryan like a trophy. "Look at this joke, Ryan!"

Ryan took the card. But the moment his eyes landed on the gold-embossed "Sterling Trust Bank" crest and the unique, single-digit serial number, his body froze solid.

Someone in the crowd gasped.

"Wait... isn't that the Sterling Sovereign Black Card?"

"The Sovereign Card? The one that requires a hundred-million liquid net worth, with only five issued in the entire world?!"

"My God, I read about that! That card gives unlimited liquidity access to the Sterling family's private vaults. Only the top global elite have one!"

"How... how does a teenager have that?!"