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The Thief's Disguise

My Account Manager

The Thief's Disguise
Photo by Aleksi Räisä on Unsplash

We were introduced by a common acquaintance; Jim if I remember right. Jim put the two of us together because I wanted to invest and Bitcoin was on the rise even if it had a moment when it did hit a low. Jim gave me Brian's telephone number to correspond on WhatsApp and at first, Brian was very nice. Brian was strictly a businessman. He did not make jokes and talked only about money. I did not find it strange that I was corresponding with a man I never met or seen before. Most of the time Brian texted me around 3 a.m. my time, which was 8 a.m. his time. The time difference was troublesome at first, but I seemed to adjust after a while.

Brian came off as a God-fearing man and his work values matched his spiritual values so I became comfortable that this man would aid me in receiving my financial goal. Brian was not good at explaining the process, he just wanted me to follow instructions as stated. He would always reply "Madam can you just follow my instructions" and I would, in the beginning, no fuss. After a while, it became troublesome to give to this man my savings and not have my questions answered, hence our first argument.

It started when I refused to make my weekly investment of $500 because after doing some research, I found a different way to fund my investment account via CashApp. This way was without the expensive fees Brian's way held that started depleting my savings faster than expected.

Brian would inform me at the last minute of an account fee and felt that I should always have the money available to pay every fee associated with investing. The problem was that I never knew the fees upfront so I could not make accessible the funds to pay.

As I started to research cryptocurrency, I discovered that my profits were to be disbursed to me after a 7-day interval, this was not happening. I asked Brian why wasn't my profits disbursed correctly and he told me they were. He thought it better for me if I received my profits at the end of the year instead of at the end of the investment cycle. I asked him who gave him the right to decide on my behalf and he replied he did because he was the Account Manager.

"I'm sorry Madam," he would always say. Those words I learned to dislike greatly. They always started the sentence and were followed by words that went against my wishes.

Eventually, I stopped following the advice of my Account Manager, Brian because my savings were gone and I had no profits to come out of my investing. I, at that point, was not sure if my investment was real or just figures on a screen. I told Brian after the first month of not investing that it would be impossible for me to continue investing this way. Yes, the screen stated 100,000 dollars, but my bank account stated zero dollars.

I even stopped paying my monthly maintenance fee. This decision infuriated Brian but re-enforced me. We would argue about what my decision to do nothing would affect my account. I would always tell him that I did not care for it was he who trapped me in this situation, I was along for the ride.

I watched as my profits would plumage by $15,000 after one month. "I'm sorry madam there's nothing I can do until you pay what you owe."

I would call him a thief, a scoundrel, or a sinner anything to rile him and maybe the truth would air. That the wrath of God would find its way to him and judgment would be upon him. He insisted he did no wrong. He acted on a clear conscience. I felt the need for space.

A two-month absence between us ended with Brian contacting me about payment. Again, our conversation ended with me branding him with insults. Did he think my money tree would sprout leaves and become fertile? No, I told him, it was still dead and suffering from despair. "My money is sad for it can not find its stolen comrades." He did not find this to be funny.

Occasionally, I would reach out to Jim and ask him why he put Brian and me together and did he know Brian was a thief. Jim refused to answer me on the "thief" question and always said that Brian was a good man who helped him when he was in need.

After 12 months, Brian texted me to say it was time for me to withdraw my investments. " Congratulations madam, it is your birthday. I hope the Almighty bless you with everything you dream of." He asked me to furnish him with my bank information so he could transfer my profits over. So I did what was asked of me.

Because I stopped investing, I lost $30,000 but I was okay with that. I received the email stating that my investment profits transferred into my account and was overjoyed. I was okay when I did not initially see the money, for it took time to clear.

On the third day of not profits, I started to worry. By the end of the week, I contacted Brian who claimed he knew nothing of a transfer. The transfer could not be completed because I did not turn in the paperwork.

My stomach started to tighten up and my head was spinning. I was filled with anger because I never received any paperwork.

I returned to my investment company, but this time inquired with Customer Service and what I was told blew my mind. The agent could not find any trace of me. I was not in their database. I described to the agent how I transferred the money to a wallet that I did not own. A transfer that I will be taxed on later on. The greater blow was that Brian was not associated with them either.

I was told that the wallet could have been anyone's wallet and I should only transfer funds into a wallet that belonged to me. I should have control, not someone else.

All I did for an entire year was feed someone else's pocket, so I went back to Jim. "Jim, did you set me up?" I had to ask.

Jim apologized but he owed Brian, not his real name, a lot of money and had to find a way to repay him. He was very sorry for the pain he caused me, but he could not fathom any other recourse. The amount he owed Brian was over 200,000 dollars. With the weekly investments, monthly fees, and profits Brian and Jim's arrangement turned out spectacular for them. Me on the other hand, disastrous.

I hear Brian, not his real name moved to an island and was wanted by several authorities. He even left behind his home and car which was eventually seized. He gets to run away to live on an island while I live in poverty, struggling to make ends meet, as they say.

I could not figure out why Brian had to humiliate me and steal from me. Why was that needed? Couldn't he just do one? I, by choice, stopped speaking to Jim and refused to respond to his emails or texts. Deep down, I can't figure out who was the worst thief, Jim or B

fact or fiction
Stephanie Battle
Stephanie Battle
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Stephanie Battle

I always loved to write imaginary stories as a child. The stories calmed me and were my escape.

Hi, my name is Stephanie and I think writing, especially writing to connect with one's self, can be enjoyable and uplifting.

See all posts by Stephanie Battle