He'd been doing this for years.
Scamming banks had become second nature to him, like flipping a coin. All you needed was a clean record and a sob story convincing enough to tug at the right strings. Before you knew it, you'd walk away with a reasonable sum of cash in your pocket.
Twelve banks down. One more to go.
He knew it was a bad idea, he never messed with big banks. But desperation made you reckless. He needed the money.
His sister was after him, and he was on the run.
He sighed, stretching as he woke up in the back seat of the convertible he'd also scammed out of someone's hands. People were so gullible, he thought, shaking his head. They practically handed over their lives with just the right words.
Opening his laptop, he began searching for his next target.
Margaret. An elderly woman living in the slums. She had nearly a hundred thousand dollars sitting untouched in her retirement plan.
Perfect.
He suited up, drove to her small tent-like food stall, and ordered a meal. The food was decent, better than what he'd expected.
"This is such a great meal, ma'am," he said with a bright smile, his charm turned up to its fullest.
She smiled back. "Thank you. My son likes it too."
He'd been eating here for a while now, planting the seeds of familiarity. Small talk was second nature to him by now.
"Hey, ma'am, do you have a bank account?" he asked casually.
She paused, then answered politely, "Yes, my son manages it."
"Oh, that's nice. Have you ever thought about getting a loan from Happy Banks? I work there, it could help take your business to the next level," he said, his tone polite, his smile disarming.
She hesitated but smiled faintly. "I've thought about it, but my son's against it."
He nodded understandingly. "No pressure. But if you don't mind, could I take a look at your phone? I could set it up so you get free bonuses every time you withdraw cash from your bank account."
Her eyes widened, intrigued. "Really? Is that possible?"
"Certainly," he said, his voice smooth. "It's called interest. For every thousand dollars you withdraw, they'll match it and give you back another thousand dollars."
Her jaw dropped. "You're kidding! That would make life so much easier."
"That's right," he said with a confident smile. "All I need are your bank details to set it up for you."
She handed over her phone without hesitation. A few quick taps and he was in. Her account details were right there, including her BVN. To seal the deal, he transferred a hundred dollars to her account.
Her face lit up in awe. "Oh my goodness! That's incredible!"
He smirked, hiding his disdain. "From now on, you'll get interest after every withdrawal, equal to the amount you withdraw."
"Thank you so much," she said, tapping his shoulder affectionately. "You know, you look a little like my neighbor's scumbag brother, but you're much smarter and kinder."
He forced a laugh, biting his tongue. As he turned to leave, he collided with a vision of beauty on the stairs.
"Clarice! You finally brought your damn annoying ass home!" Margaret snapped.
Clarice groaned, brushing past him. "Quiet down, you old hag," she shot back.
Her gaze flickered to him, and his breath caught. She was stunning.
"What are you looking at, con?" she sneered, as though she could see straight through him. Without another word, she slammed the door behind her.
Shaking off the encounter, he returned to his convertible. "That's the finest thing I've seen in ages," he muttered, glancing back at Margaret's account balance.
Too bad it had to end like this.
With one final click, he pressed withdraw.