Banker Novels & Stories

"I see you’ve managed to drag yourself out of your bunker." ​"You've played a very foolish game, Sara," he said, stepping closer, his men moving in perfect, synchronized tandem behind him. "You thought you were cleaning the house, but you’ve simply exposed your own incompetence to the world. These gentlemen are from the Southern District. We’ve been discussing the Zurich disbursements."

Haha. "Hello Banker?" I asked on the other line. "Who the fvck is that boy?" I looked at Kent because I thought I heard his voice on the other line. His brows furrowed and he almost dropped his phone in annoyance. Moody tologo of Mokong. "Well.. You're a male banker? Louis said you're a female say? Why are you so big?" I asked okay Banker on the other line but I dropped my phone after Banker yelled at me.

I said in shock. “That’s the order from the court and we have to comply as the bank. Also, for your next call, please reach out to the general contact number for the bank. I can no longer act as your private banking agent due to insufficient funds in your investment portfolio,” the banker said as he brushed me off. “Yeah, sure. Just do whatever!” I snapped before hanging up.

CHAPTER 57 — Hairline Cracks POV: Castor Castor noticed the delay on a Tuesday. Not the dramatic kind. No alarms. No frantic calls. Just a subtle pause where money was supposed to move—and didn’t. He leaned back in his chair, phone balanced between his shoulder and ear, eyes scanning the figures on his tablet for the third time. “Try again,” he said to the banker, irritation creeping into his voice. “It’s a simple transfer.” A pause. Then, carefully: “We already did, sir. The authorization bounced back.”

Her pen in her hand, she asked what I wanted. “Good morning. I'm Tristian Ravenford, and I'd like to check my bank balance and see if I can withdraw a certain amount.” She smiled, and I wondered if this was the way all the workers treated their customers. I wished I had a ring to show her that I had someone special at home, and no matter how beautiful she seemed to be, there was no trading of the one at home with her in the bank. “Oh, okay. Good morning Mr Ravenford. Could you please provide your details and your ID?”

I was in his robe, and I tried to leave his bed, now very fucking angry, but he stopped me, completely changing the subject. “Did you get your money?” He asked, keeping me in his arms again. I shook my head, getting mad now that I remembered how that banker spoke to me. “Why? What happened?” “The banker said I need his approval, and she was so rude to me when she said it. It made me feel a certain type of way.” “Who?” His voice went a bit deeper, scary. “The banker. She even told me to step aside so she could attend to other customers.”

I explained to the four-year-old twins. "Wow, mummy, I'd like to use it one day," Aiden exclaimed. "Me too, mummy," Juliet said. The kids can be quite amusing. They always acted the same way and disliked the same things. It was always a problem when they wore different clothes or colours. "So you only want to use a gun? Wouldn't you rather be a banker like me?" Their father inquires. Juliet inquired, "Daddy, what is a banker?" "A banker is someone who works in a bank." He reacts.

"So this is what you look like. You're even prettier than I imagined. Nice to meet you. My real name is Calvin Fulton." Before this, Yvonne had only sent him a few blurry side-profile and back-view photos. Our figures were similar enough that he didn't suspect a thing. When I shook his hand, I carefully counted the long string of numbers floating above his head. I wasn't mistaken—it was ten digits long. But what shocked me even more was that the number was steadily and rapidly increasing. Was this what being rich was like? Calvin literally didn't have to lift a finger. He could just laze around and live off interest, and he'd still be filthy rich.

The man said picking up his glasses. From the transparent glass plaque in front of him, I saw that he was the Manager of the Bank so theoretically speaking, he should earn about 6 zeros each month. Eh... Seems rich enough but not as rich as Maverick. See, Maverick is on another level... Another level of wealth. "We would like to open an account," Carter spoke and I turned away from the plaque to his face. He was staring directly at the man who shifted his glasses before replying, "All three of you?"

Then forcing a balmy smile, he unlocked the door and swirled into the room like a warm breeze. "Good evening," he said, his eyes finding his clients. "I am Fombellida Alexandra. How can I be of serv-" the rest of the sentence lodged somewhere beneath his Adam's apple. The woman before him was as unexpected a visitor as Alexandra had ever had. "I'm sorry, do we know each other?" Sophie asked. She did not recognize the banker, but he for a moment looked as if he'd seen a ghost. "No…," the bank president fumbled. "I don't… believe so. Our services are anonymous." He exhaled and forced a smile. "My assistant tells me you have a gold key but no account number? Migh