Page 281 of Invisible Bars
But then, it happened.
Declined.
I froze mid-hum, blinking in disbelief at the screen.
"Hmph! I must’ve put in the wrong card number,” I mumbled, shaking off the momentary shock as I switched to my backup American Express, still holding on to that hopeful smile.
But again, the verdict came back:Declined.
My smile vanished, and the triumphant melody in my mind came to an abrupt halt.
I opened my Chase app, fully expecting to encounter a simple tech glitch that would resolve itself in a flash. Yet, the growing disquiet in my stomach hinted that something more was amiss. And then I saw it. $0.01.
One cent.
My throat went dry, and a wave of disbelief crashed over me. I nearly dropped my phone as the stark reality of the number settled in.
“No—no, no, no, this is—this has to be a mistake!”
With trembling hands, I rushed to my vanity, snatching up my gold-engraved checkbook and every credit card I owned—my lifelines to a life I thought I still had control over.
I sat down at my sleek, marble-topped desk, logged into my second bank account, and felt my heart drop.
Empty.
Panic clawed at my insides as I tried a third account.
That oneempty as well.
A high-pitched wail of horror ripped from my throat before I could stop it.
“Where the hell is all my money?!” I roared.
I began to pace across the pristine marble floors of my lavish home—barefoot, my silk robe flying behind me like a cape of despair—as I dialed the bank, heart racing as if the entire building were ablaze.
“Thank you for calling Norwood Private Banking. This is?—”
“Yes, this is Mrs. Giselle Kors! I need to speak with your manager immediately! Put me on with Elliotor whoever’s running that poor excuse of a fraud department!”
My voice sliced through the phone, sharp with urgency and heat. My pulse was racing.
“Ma’am, thisisElliot,” his voice replied smoothly, like he’d been waiting to ruin my day. “Let’s calm down first, okay?”
“Don’t patronize me!” I snapped. “I need to report a fraud! Someone has drained my?—”
“Mrs. Kors—Giselle…” he corrected gently, which only made my eye twitch. “I’m afraid there’s no fraud on record. The funds werelegallywithdrawn yesterday afternoon by yourex-husband, Mr. Robert Kors.”
“Ex-husband?” I retorted, my voice rising in a blend of rage and disbelief.
“Yes. And as the joint account holder?—”
“I knowwho he is!” I cut off. “So you’re telling me he emptiedallof them?!”
“Yes, ma’am,” Elliot answered without a single flinch in his voice. “And per our records, a power of attorney was also filed the same day, granting him full transferal rights to both shared and private accounts.”
My heart thudded painfully in my ears as the reality sank in.
It wasn’t just that he cleaned the accounts out that had me livid; it was the fact that I didn’t have a backup.
