Chapter 29 Chapter 29
At that moment, they did not want to waste any more time.
Without arguing further, Megan simply raised the card and showed it to the two security guards.
The instant their eyes fell on it, one of them extended his hand and said, “Can you hand it over?”
Megan’s expression changed at once.
“No,” she said flatly. “I will not hand the card over.”
Her tone was calm, but there was a sharp edge in it now.
“And why exactly should I do that?” she asked. “Because of the little story she just told?”
She glanced briefly at Deborah, then looked back at the guards.
“Is this how you are supposed to do your job? Or are you just acting based on noise and accusation?”
The guards stiffened slightly, but Megan continued before either of them could respond.
“Aren’t you supposed to report this to the appropriate authority and let them handle it properly?” she asked. “Is this your jurisdiction to resolve?”
Her voice grew firmer.
“Why are you trying to do what you are not authorized to do?”
That question landed harder than either guard expected.
Because, truthfully, she was right.
Strictly speaking, their duty was not to seize the card on the spot based solely on verbal accusations. Their responsibility was to secure the situation, prevent escalation, and refer the matter to the proper internal authority within the bank—or escort everyone involved inside for clarification.
They both knew that.
But at the same time, the situation was being colored by something neither of them said aloud: Megan’s past.
An ex-convict.
That fact alone had already tilted the atmosphere against her, even if they did not openly admit it.
Still, neither guard spoke immediately. They only exchanged uncertain glances, visibly weighing what to do next.
Jessica, however, had no patience for their hesitation.
“What exactly are you two waiting for?” she suddenly shouted. “Can’t you see that Megan is dangerous?”
She pointed accusingly at Megan, her voice ringing across the entrance.
“The way she attacked my mother—can’t you see she is extremely dangerous?”
Then, with exaggerated disgust, she added, “She is standing there pretending to be harmless just because she is a woman. But she is an ex-convict. An ex-convict!”
Her voice grew louder and more dramatic with every word.
“She literally killed someone. That is why she went to prison. So what are you waiting for? Are you not supposed to pounce on her immediately?”
The guards visibly tensed at the volume of her voice.
One of them, trying to regain control of the situation, stepped forward and said in a measured tone, “With all due respect, madam, please hand over the card to us. We will call the appropriate authority to come and resolve this issue.”
Megan shook her head without hesitation.
“No,” she repeated. “I will not hand the card over to you. Call the appropriate authority.”
There was no fear in her voice.
No uncertainty, Just a firm refusal.
The guards studied her face and saw the determination there. And they also understood something else this scene was becoming increasingly public. The last thing they wanted was a full-blown confrontation right outside Diamond Bank’s entrance.
If they mishandled it, if they caused a scene, if anyone recorded the incident, the bank would not be pleased. A public disgrace at the entrance of such a high-profile institution could cost them dearly.
They could even lose their jobs.
So, deciding not to force the matter physically, one of the guards reached for his communication device a walkie-talkie attached to his side.
He lifted it and pressed the button, preparing to report the situation to the appropriate people inside the bank.
He had barely begun to speak when a voice suddenly cut through the tension.
“What the hell is going on here?”
The moment that voice rang out, both security guards turned at once.
And the instant they saw who it was, their expressions changed completely.
They straightened so sharply it was almost mechanical.
Even though they had not seen him in over a year indeed, this was only the second time they had ever laid eyes on him in person because of how demanding his schedule was—there was no mistaking him.
It was the director of the bank.
“Director!” both guards said at once, bowing their heads respectfully. “Director Liam, we didn’t realize it was you. We’re sorry, sir.”
The tension in the air shifted instantly.
When Deborah heard the word Director, her eyes widened.
Jessica’s did too.
Their attention snapped toward the man before them.
He was young far younger than either of them had expected a bank director to be. Tall and strikingly handsome, with blond hair, fair skin, and the kind of commanding presence that made everyone near him instinctively take notice. He looked polished, refined, and utterly out of place in the middle of such a petty scene.
Deborah straightened at once.
Jessica quickly adjusted herself too, smoothing her posture, trying to look composed and presentable.
A man like that was not someone they wanted to appear foolish in front of.
Liam’s gaze moved over the group, taking in Deborah on the ground no longer, Jessica’s agitated expression, Megan standing firm, and the card still in her hand.
His brows drew together.
“What exactly is this commotion about?” he asked.
One of the officers quickly stepped forward to explain.
“Sir,” he began, gesturing first toward Deborah and then toward Megan, “this lady”—he pointed at Deborah—“is claiming that the other lady assaulted her and nearly sprained her ankle.”
Then he motioned toward Megan.
“And this same lady,” he continued, “who is a Silver card holder of Diamond Bank, is accusing this woman of being in possession of a Diamond card.”
He hesitated for only a moment before adding, “We suspect the card may either be stolen or fake.”
At those words, Deborah immediately puffed out her chest, visibly encouraged by the opportunity to speak for herself.
For a moment, she almost forgot she had been playing the victim with an injured ankle.
Her pain seemed less important now than impressing the handsome director standing before her.
So she stepped forward and inserted herself into the conversation.
“Yes,” Deborah said quickly, “I am the one who confronted her.”
She pointed at Megan with righteous certainty.
“I know her. I know her very well. And that is why I can say with confidence that the card must either be stolen or counterfeit.”
Her face tightened as she continued her accusation.
“I was only trying to question her, trying to interpret the situation properly, when she attacked me.”
Then, eager to make herself sound more pitiful and Megan more savage, she added dramatically, “The way she hit me she was like an animal. The way she punched me.”