Rich Man’s Son Steals Few Bucks from Beggar, Pays Much Higher Price for That Later – Story of the Day

When a well-dressed man stole his money, Marty followed him to a fancy hotel, demanding it back. No one believed him except a kind receptionist who did her best to show that humanity still exists in a greedy world.

"Thank you, sir," Marty said, smiling at the man in the dark suit who had approached him. It was a cold, stark morning in the city, and barely anyone was outside. But he sat in his usual spot and begged for money, hoping to have enough for some lunch.

Becoming homeless and needing to beg for money was never part of Marty's life plan, but things took a turn for the worse many years ago. The system was rigged against the poorest people, and getting out of this hole felt impossible.

But every once in a while, he saw the glimmer of hope in the world—the kind strangers who shared their leftover lunch or offered to buy him stuff outright. People like them helped Marty in more ways than they imagined.

Oddly, well-dressed men like this one rarely stopped. They had better things to do and were always running to a meeting. That's how they make money, I guess. But many also looked down on everyone else, as if they all had no luck and were in their positions by merit alone.

That's not how the world worked. Marty knew it, and they knew it, too. But these businessmen always refused to accept that their privilege helped them become wealthier and successful. Still, [Marty knew many worked hard, but he doubted how far they would've gone without some help — whether it came from their rich parents or not.

The man in the nice suit now had his wallet out and leaned, only to grab the few dollar bills Marty had accumulated that morning. "Hey. What are you doing?" he asked, confused. He didn't get an answer. The man simply stored the bills in his wallet and started walking away.

"Wait! Wait!" Marty stood, stumbling a little as he followed the rich man, who fastened his step. "That's my money. How can you steal from me? Please!"

The man ignored him entirely and turned to walk into the revolving door of the fanciest hotel in town. Marty hesitated for just a second, thinking about his appearance and clothes. He would never get past the security inside the hotel, but he couldn't let that man get away with this.

"Wait! Please! That's my money!" Marty exclaimed, pointing at the thief after going through the door. Naturally, he attracted the attention of many people, including the security guards. One approached him.

"Sir, I'm going to ask you to step outside, please," the man said, touching the earpiece with one finger.

"No! You don't understand. That man stole my money!" Marty insisted, still pointing.

"That man?" the security guard asked skeptically.

"Yes, that man stole the few dollars I had collected this morning," he continued, trying to get around the guard.

"Sir, please. That man is wearing a suit that costs more than my yearly salary," the guard sighed, shaking his head. "There's no way he stole a few dollars from you."

"Please, you have to believe me," Marty said, frustrated at the injustice. Of course, no one would believe him.

"If you don't leave, I'll have to call the police."

"That's not fair! I'm not the thief here. He is!" the homeless man finally yelled, attracting more attention from the hotel guests in the lobby. Several ladies standing by the bar turned and frowned.

"What's going on?" a gentle voice wondered. Marty looked to his left and saw the kindest face looking at him and the guard.

"Daisy, don't worry. I got this," the security guard smiled and harshly grabbed Marty's arm.

"Wait! No! He stole from me!"

"Who stole from you?" Daisy wondered.

"That man!" Marty pointed.

"That man?" she asked, after turning to look at the well-dressed man, who had just pressed the elevator button. "Are you sure?"

"I know it's unbelievable, miss. I couldn't understand it, but I was just a block away, sitting on the sidewalk with a few dollars in a cup. I thought he stopped to give me some money, and I thanked him," Marty got more agitated as the story went on. "But instead, he took his wallet out, grabbed the bills, and put them inside."

Daisy's eyebrows rose. "That's…odd," she mumbled, not knowing what else to say.

"Yes, it is," Marty nodded. "And I'm sorry to say this, but those few bucks may not be significant to you, but they mean a lot to me."

"Enough, this man is obviously lying," the security guard insisted, trying to push Marty out of the hotel.

"I'm not lying! I can prove it. One of the bills had a small tear on the side!" Marty insisted, and Daisy narrowed her eyes.

"Wait, Johnny," Daisy told him and rushed to the elevators before the well-dressed man could disappear. She gave him a timid tap on the shoulder, and he turned with a dazzling smile for her.

"Sir, excuse me," she started but hesitated. What could she say? Would he admit his wrongdoing just like that? It didn't seem likely. But an idea popped into her head. "Do you have any change for a five-dollar bill? I need it for the vending machine."

"Oh, let me see, darling," the man drawled, smirking. He took out his wallet and produced a couple of one-dollar bills. "Hmm, I only have three dollars here. But here, take them. I don't need them."

Daisy's eyes scanned the bills, and she immediately noticed the tear in one, just like the homeless man said. "Sir, did you take that money from that man over there?" she asked bravely, pointing toward the hotel entrance.

"What?" the man asked, laughing. "Look at me, sweetheart." Daisy wanted to roll her eyes when he twirled right before her eyes, stretching his expensive jacket to emphasize his point.

"I see you perfectly fine," she said, trying to rein in her sarcasm.

"Okay, then. Do I look like I took money from a homeless person?" he laughed.

"Well, that man says you did, and he told me one of the bills had a little broken part," Daisy continued, a little smug. "I don't think a nice, wealthy man like you would carry bills like that on a regular day."

"Listen," the man lost his smile and leaned close to see her name tag. "Daisy, is it? What exactly are you insinuating? I already told you this is my money. I got it after buying a soda at a convenience store. Sorry, but I'm not a snob who doesn't accept any change given to me."

"You're lying. That money doesn't belong to you," she insisted, crossing her arms.

"What are you going to do?" he asked, his smirk returning. "Are you going to take it from me?" He started fanning the bills in her face and putting them up in the air, out of her reach.

"Are you a child?" Daisy snapped.

"Are you going to grab the money? Call the cops? No?" he retorted. "I didn't think so."

"Have you no shame?" she asked. "That man needs that money to eat today. You don't need it, but you stole it!"

Inadvertently, Daisy's voice had risen with her anger, and she didn't realize until the man looked around that the people standing at the hotel bar could hear them.

"Enough!" he snapped. "Who cares about some homeless man? You need to shut up and mind your own business."

"Fine! Let's see you be this brave when I ask security to escort you out," Daisy said, shrugging.

"Really?" he asked, the smugness returning. "I guess we'll have to talk to the hotel owner."

"What? Do you think Mr. Dumas has all the free time in the world?" she countered, showing her own self-satisfied little smile.

"I think he'll have time for me," the shameless man continued, placing his face too close to hers. "He's my father, after all."

***

Daisy's life flashed in her mind, although she wasn't in a life-or-death situation. Still, it felt like she was walking the plank at the moment. The well-dressed man who had stolen money from Marty was Alexander, the only son of the owner of the hotel.

She had never seen him before. When she first started this job, some of the girls told her to steer clear of him because he liked to flirt and string girls along. His family would never allow him to have anything serious with someone below their status, so Alexander only did it for fun.

Daisy thought they were lying because no one could be that cruel. But after meeting the man and knowing he had stolen from someone who didn't have anything else in the world, she knew they were right.

But she couldn't dwell on it. She sat in Mr. Dumas' office while the older man finished a call.

"Alright, what's this about?" Mr. Dumas wondered, sitting back on his expensive chair and linking his fingers over his stomach.

"Well—"

"It's this—"

"Miss…uh…Daisy," Mr. Dumas stuttered while trying to read her name on her chest. "Let's start with you."

"Sir, a man came to the lobby, telling us that this man here had stolen his money," Daisy began. "I didn't know who he was, so I confronted him. He didn't like the accusation, but he didn't deny it either. Also, I saw the bills in his wallet, and they matched the man's description of them."

"Alexander, what the hell are you doing?" Mr. Dumas turned to his son, his brow furrowing deeper. "You're back from Europe for a day, and you're already causing trouble. How am I supposed to trust you? How will I hand you my business when you're playing silly games out there!"

The older man was rising, and his face reddened with each passing second, so Daisy remained quiet. Alexander seemed subdued, but his lips twisted like a petulant child about to whine. She was right.

"I didn't do anything wrong. It was just three bucks. Nothing," he shrugged.

"I don't care how much it was," Mr. Dumas said, dismissing his words with a wave. "I won't allow you to steal from our guests!"

"Guests? He's just a beggar!" Alexander scoffed. "He was outside and had some bills in a cup, so I took them whatever."

"Wait a minute," Mr. Dumas interrupted. "You stole a homeless man? Why should I care about that?"

Daisy's face paled, and she felt Alexander's superiority. This is where he gets his personality, she thought.

"Sir, to you or even me, three dollars is nothing. But to that man, it means the world. Or at least, today's meal," she said carefully.

"Wait," Mr. Dumas said, turning to the right and looking at his computer screen. "You said he came into the hotel. There's a homeless in my lobby?"

"Yes, sir, but that isn't the issue," Daisy tried to steer the conversation back.

"Not the issue? Are you kidding me? This is a five-star hotel, you simpleton. I can't have people like that in my lobby! My stocks will plummet! And do you know who that man reading the paper is? Of course not. How could you? That's the patriarch of an oil empire!" Mr. Dumas yelled, turning the screen towards them and pointing at the man.

"I'm sorry, sir. But the beggar isn't bothering anyone. He hasn't moved from that spot—"

"I DON'T CARE!" Mr. Dumas yelled, making Daisy jump back in her seat. "Get that dirty loser out of my hotel, and don't come to me ever again about this ridiculousness, or you're fired! I'm running a hotel, not a daycare!"

Daisy exited the office with the proverbial tail between her legs while Alexander practically bounced outside.

"See? You shouldn't have messed with me," he quipped.

Daisy turned, wanting to unleash all the rage in her soul. She knew Alexander was probably never scolded in his privileged life. He was obviously a bully, but worst of all, his parents likely hid or threw money at every wrongdoing he ever did. He knew he could get away with everything and anything.

It wasn't fair, but yelling at him would mean nothing. In fact, she could get in more trouble. So, Daisy merely puffed out some air and walked away. Her hands reached into her pockets, producing three dollar bills.

She tore one side of the paper and kept walking, reaching the lobby quickly. Alexander walked behind her but, fortunately, turned toward the bar.

"Okay, sir. Everything is fixed. Here you go," she said with a shaky smile as she held the bills up to him. The man looked at her hand and raised his own to close her fist.

He shook his head. "Miss, I can't take your money."

"No, it's your money. Really," Daisy insisted, but Marty shook his head.

"The tear in the bill was completely different," he smiled gently. "Thank you for trying to plead my case anyway. You're probably in too much trouble already."

"Well, I mean…please, just take this or let me buy you something," she tried to coax, but he just shook his head.

They heard a booming laugh coming from the bar and turned. Alexander was there, showing his smirk to the ladies. But Daisy frowned, noticing that those women were not amused by him at all. She stepped toward the bar to hear better and sighed at the pompous words from the hotel owner's son.

"Yes, ladies. I can get you any drink here for free," he boasted. "My father owns the place, and I have parties and food and the best liquor whenever you want. What do you say? Would you like to have some fun with me? I pay for what you've drank so far."

"Oh, sure," one of the women laughed, but she wasn't flirting back. "You can pay for our drinks because you stole money from a homeless man."

"Yeah, no thanks, loser," the other woman added, giggling with her friend. They gave Alexander their backs and continued their conversation. Daisy wanted to laugh, too, but the look on the spoiled brat's eyes meant immediate trouble.

Alexander jumped from his bar stool and prowled straight at Marty. "What are you doing now?" Daisy demanded, but of course, the hotel owner's son ignored her.

He grabbed Marty's cheap, dirty jacket collar and shook him harshly. "What are you still doing in MY hotel? Huh?"

"It's your dad's hotel, not yours!" Marty replied, trying to shake Alexander off. There was a scuffle as they both grappled with each other. Daisy couldn't see well, but she was distraught that Johnny and the rest of security were simply allowing this. The other guests in the lobby were also staring, shocked.

"Stop it! Johnny, please! Separate them!" Daisy begged, and finally, the security guard acted.

"What is wrong with you?" Marty asked the spoiled brat.

"Wrong with me? You're the one who shouldn't be here!" Alexander said and started patting his pockets. "Wait a minute. Did you take my wallet? You did this on purpose!"

"What?" Marty and Daisy asked simultaneously.

"Yeah! You started touching me to steal my money!" the spoiled brat continued.

"That's not true!" Marty said, stepping back from Johnny's harsh stare.

"Please, Mr. Dumas. You attacked him first," Daisy scoffed. "Stop this now. Marty was just leaving. Think about the guests," she said the last word between her teeth.

But once again, Alexander didn't care. He started yelling, "Check his pockets! Let's see who the real thief is!"

Johnny reached for Marty, who tried to shy away, but he wasn't strong enough. After patting some of his jacket pockets, the security guard unearthed an expensive-looking leather wallet.

"SEE? I TOLD YOU! That's the real thief! He came here to accuse me! TO SLANDER ME! And then stole my money!" Alexander screamed, pointing and attracting the attention of everyone.

Daisy's mouth opened with a slight pop. She knew the spoiled brat was lying about the first part, but how did his wallet end up in Marty's jacket? It didn't make sense. She could admit their scuffle was confusing, but she hadn't seen anything strange.

"That's not true!" Marty exclaimed back. "He did this on purpose! He came to fight me, intent on framing me! GOD!"

"Shut up! You are just insane! You're making up lies, and I would sue you if you were worth anything," Alexander spat hatefully. "You, call the police right now! The wallet alone is worth more than $1,000! That's a felony! You're going to jail, bum!" The taunt in his voice spurred Daisy on.

"No!" she exclaimed, looking at Alexander more shocked than she had ever felt. How could someone as privileged as this man act in such a way? "You did this. You really did this. I can't believe it. Why?"

Alexander stared at her and gulped, but he doubled down a second later. "I SAID CALL THE POLICE BEFORE I HAVE TO GET MY FATHER DOWN HERE!" he shouted in her face.

"I'll call them," Johnny interrupted, a little confused but following orders now that he understood who Alexander was. The hotel owner's son beamed, staring down his nose at Marty. But Daisy wouldn't let this go so easily.

"This isn't over!" she threatened, lifting her finger, then turned and stomped purposefully to the security office. The lobby had CCTV cameras, and one should've captured what happened. Daisy needed to prove Marty was innocent and that the spoiled brat had to be punished.

However, her steps faltered when she entered the office and saw Mr. Dumas pointing at a screen. "Miss Daisy. I believe I told you to get rid of the uninvited guest in the lobby. I can still see him," the hotel owner said matter-of-factly.

"Yes, sir. He'll leave soon. I just need to check something on the cameras," she stuttered.

"What, exactly?" Mr. Dumas frowned and approached her. "And with what authority? You're just a receptionist here. You shouldn't even be in his room. I don't think so, Miss Daisy. It's time to return to your post."

"Sir, that footage is important," Daisy insisted, flabbergasted. "An innocent man could go to jail and be even worse off than he is right now."

"Really?" the hotel owner asked, pursing his lips. "Seems to me like jail would be an improvement for him."

"What the hell are you doing — oh, Dad. Good," Alexander entered the security office. Daisy had caught the scared glint in his eyes before it disappeared. He knew his father was there to defend him somehow.

"Leave us," Mr. Dumas said, twisting his head to address the security guard in front of the computer. He followed orders and immediately exited the office. Daisy remained there, trapped between two Dumas men who thought they owned the entire world.

But she refused to be scared. "Sir, I need that footage. It'll prove that young Mr. Dumas did something wrong and protect that man from going to jail," Daisy said, adding some bite to her voice.

"Miss Daisy, you're overstepping here," Mr. Dumas shook his head in warning. "You either return to the reception, or you're fired."

"This isn't fair," she continued. That job meant nothing to her anymore. "That man doesn't deserve to be treated so callously just because he's homeless. He doesn't deserve jail when the only thief and scammer here is your son."

"And what are you going to do?" Alexander chimed in. "My father already said there's no footage. That's it. You can only tell the cops your version of the story, but I doubt they'll believe it. We'll press charges, and your little bum will still go to jail. Perhaps we should send you there, too. A perfect couple!"

A slow prowl toward Daisy accompanied his mocking. Alexander towered over the petite woman, trying to intimidate her further. It wasn't working. She wasn't scared, but it helped her because she stepped back into a desk and looked behind her, noticing a minor detail. There was an intercom on the desk with several buttons waiting to be pressed.

She put her hands behind her as secretly as possible while Alexander was still making his threats. Mr. Dumas had crossed his arms as if this was an everyday occurrence, but he had the same look of disdain as his son.

As soon as her fingers pressed the button, Daisy began to goad them. "So, you admit it? You planted the wallet in Marty's pocket to get him arrested?"

Alexander laughed. "So you accused me, and you weren't sure? Of course, I did. That's what I've been saying this entire time. I can do whatever I want, whenever I want, and to whomever I want," he said, smiling evilly. "If you're not careful from now on, I'll do it to you too."

"And you just let your son go about life acting this way?" Daisy addressed the older man.

Mr. Dumas just sighed. "Girl, enough. You don't get how this world runs. I understand. You're poor. Not as poor that bum in my lobby, but still, poor," the hotel owner said with a wrinkle in his nose. "I already erased the footage, you idiot. Why do you think I came here?"

"That's despicable! You're a respected businessman in this community!" she exclaimed, putting real emotion into her words. "How could ruin a poor man's life even further?"

"Because we can and because people like that bum don't matter in this world," Mr. Dumas shrugged. "Besides, it's much better this way. I can't have my clients walking toward my hotel and seeing a beggar with his cup of one-dollar bills nearby."

"He was not hurting anyone!" Daisy continued. "And you! You stole those awful one-dollar bills just because you could? If you have so much money, why did you do that?"

"Didn't you hear my father? Are you stupid, girl? Are you deaf?" Alexander asked, exasperated. "That man doesn't matter. He shouldn't exist, and hey, that money didn't belong to him. He didn't earn it. He just received it from others. So, anyone could take it."

"Now, pack your bags and leave, girl," Mr. Dumas said, uncrossing his arms. "You're fired for real."

"Oh, I'll leave for sure," Daisy nodded, her mouth set in a tight line. "But not before you look at the cameras." She lifted her finger at the screens behind the men. They both frowned and looked back, only to realize that the entire lobby had gotten closer and were staring wide-eyed at each other.

Alexander turned back to Daisy and saw her finger on the intercom button. "WHAT DID YOU DO?" he bellowed, intent on tackling her. But he didn't get far.

Johnny entered the room. "Sir, the police are here. But they want to hear your statement before taking the man."

"Oh, I'll give them a statement," Daisy nodded, finally taking her finger off the button and walking off. Alexander followed, but Mr. Dumas was still staring at the screen, horrified that the man who had been reading the paper — the oil tycoon — was still there. He had witnessed everything. So, the hotel owner exited the office a little after everyone else.

Back at the lobby, Daisy saw Marty already in handcuffs. "Officers, you have the wrong person. He didn't steal anything," she started and saw other hotel patrons nodding.

Alexander walked up and interrupted her. "Whatever she tells you is a lie. She's a disgruntled ex-employee who will get sued for trying to tarnish the good name of this hotel," he started.

One of the officers shook his head and raised his hands. "Okay, I'm going to need to hear the whole story from both sides," he requested calmly.

"There's no story," Mr. Dumas came. "It's what my son said, but this woman refuses to leave my hotel. Please escort her out, too. She has been fired for her attitude."

Both men were just trying to distract the cops so they would forget what Daisy said. It seemed to be working until another person jumped into the discussion.

"Officer Perkins," the oil tycoon interrupted. "Nice to see you."

"Mr. Clement," the officer's eyes bulged. "Ye-yes, it's very nice to see you, too."

"How about getting the perspective of someone who has been here the entire time?" Mr. Clement said. Mr. Dumas and his son gave each other a knowing look, which Daisy dreaded. Was this another wealthy person who would protect his "own kind"?

"Well, we need the statements of the parties involved," Officer Perkins said. "But we would like to hear witness statements too."

"Perfect," Mr. Clement said. "Let's start with a witness, then."

The man used his rolled-up newspaper to point at people throughout his recounting of the tale, and other clients around him nodded in agreement. Daisy was grinning widely because this older man commanded an authority even Mr. Dumas couldn't match. Therefore, he probably had more money than the hotel owner.

"And then, we heard the entire confession right here. Mr. Dumas and his son admitted that not only do they think poor people are worthless, but they planted the wallet in this man's pocket to get him arrested," Mr. Clement finished.

Mr. Dumas was red-faced and gave his son several scornful glances, but he wouldn't speak up. Alexander looked at his shoes the entire time — a scolded child trying to ignore the consequences of his actions — and Daisy couldn't have been more pleased.

Officer Perkins nodded at Mr. Clement's account and looked at other people gathered. "Does anyone have anything to add?"

"Oh, yes," an elegant woman in her 30s spoke. "The kind gentleman summed up most of the story, but he forgot to tell you that the hotel owner's son assaulted the man in the cuffs before placing the wallet in his pocket."

"Yeah!" others agreed.

Daisy also spoke up, "Mr. Dumas also confessed to erasing footage of the incident. Isn't tampering with evidence a crime, too?"

She felt Alexander's withering stare but ignored it as the cops conferred with each other.

Officer Perkins turned to Mr. Dumas and his son. "Do you have anything to say for yourselves?"

Alexander opened his mouth, but his father gave him a swift hit on the shoulder. "I will not say anything without a lawyer present," the hotel owner said haughtily.

Daisy rolled her eyes.

"Very well," Officer Perkins nodded. "It seems we placed the wrong man in handcuffs, Charlie." He signaled with his partner to release the man and approached the hotel owner and his son. They were escorted outside and into the cop cars.

At that moment, it felt like justice had finally prevailed.

"Thank you...so, so much," Marty expressed to Daisy, who smiled warmly.

"It wasn't just me," she said, gesturing to everyone. "All these people spoke up for you."

Mr. Clement stepped up to Marty. "Many born into privilege don't understand that it was a chance of fate. That not everyone had the same opportunities and advantages," the older man explained wisely. "I, myself, didn't get it until I had my children and saw the way they were starting to treat their friends."

Everyone in the lobby was listening intently.

"My wife and I agreed to teach them differently, and now, all of them treat people with kindness, especially those that work for our companies," Mr. Clement looked at Daisy. "They also donate to charities, organize food drives, and give scholarships every year. Sadly, not everyone thinks like us. I'm sorry for that."

"Exactly," the woman in her 30s added. "You're just as human as anyone, and that awful man didn't have any right to steal your money. He may be rich because of his father, but those men have no class and never will, no matter how many zeros are in their bank accounts."

"Thank you," Marty croaked with tears in his eyes. Daisy was also moved.

"My name is Tasya," the woman in her 30s continued and produced a card from her purse. "Call me. I think I have a job I can offer you." She gave it to Marty, who was even more grateful for the gesture.

Meanwhile, reality was sinking in. Daisy didn't have a job anymore and would need to start searching for one immediately.

The other guests went about their way except Mr. Clement. "Young lady, I understand you need a new job. Correct?"

Daisy chuckled. "I do, sir. I have a hospitality degree and three years experience in several places around the city," she went straight to business.

"I like your attitude, but most of all, your integrity," the oil tycoon continued. "Let's work something out. I know everyone in this town."

She smiled, just as grateful as Marty, who later approached and thanked her one last time.

"If there's ever anything I can do for you, let me know," he said, nodding.

"I hope you take that job, Marty," Daisy expressed, touching his arm briefly. "Get back on your feet and pay it forward if you ever can."

"Will do," he promised and waved goodbye.

***

Daisy got a job a week later at an even better hotel. Her salary was 30% higher, and everyone welcomed her quickly. Mr. Clement had come through. She heard Marty started working, thanks to Tasya, at her father's construction conglomerate. Hopefully, he would stick it out, get an apartment, and rebuild his life.

Unfortunately, not everything was sunshine and flowers. Justice hadn't been served at all. An ex-coworker, Anthony, called her and said Mr. Dumas and his son were released almost immediately. He had been on leave the day of the incident. But by now, the entire hotel knew nothing would happen to them.

Apparently, their lawyer had argued about the lack of evidence. The incident had also been minor — from their perspective, at least — so the case was dismissed quickly.

"So, even Mr. Clement's statement wasn't enough?" Daisy asked Anthony.

"Nah, it wasn't. But it's not because of him. It's because the crime was against a homeless man, Daisy," Anthony explained. "If that idiot had framed Mr. Clement, it would be a horse of a different color."

"God! I can't believe how many times I've lamented the unfairness of it all since that day," she gripped.

"I can't believe I missed it!" he whined. "You standing up against that jerk sounds poetic!"

"It was," Daisy said gleefully. "A little scary, too. I thought it would take months to find a new job. Thank God not all rich people are evil."

"Yeah, well," Anthony paused. "My break is almost over. Since that day, things here have gotten so much more strict. The brat walks around barking orders at people, although he knows NOTHING about running a hotel."

"I can imagine. Sorry, sweetie," she commiserated. "My break is almost over, too. See you later!"

Despite getting no justice, life moved on. Daisy was doing well at her job, and as far as she knew, Marty was no longer a beggar or homeless. He came to her work one day, offered to buy her a cup of coffee, and they chatted a little.

She told him what her old coworker said about the Dumas. He wasn't surprised, but they left, promising to keep in touch every once in a while. But Daisy didn't know if they would ever cross paths again. She was just proud to see the lovely, polished man who was now working hard to make his life better.

That was enough for her. Maybe the universe will punish the Dumas, but for now, they got away with it.

***

A year passed, and Daisy was instructing the staff about an upcoming event when she saw Marty entering the lobby. They hadn't seen each other in months.

"Marty!" Daisy smiled warmly. "It's so nice to see you."

Marty usually grinned and repeated the sentiment, but she finally noticed his agitation. "Daisy," he said, breathless.

"What's going on? Are you alright? Are you in trouble?" she asked, concern coloring her face.

"I'm alright," Marty shook his head. "I saw him."

"Who?"

"Alexander."

"Well, that must have been unpleasant," she commented, wrinkling her nose.

Marty kept shaking his head. "No, you don't understand. I saw him doing the same thing to someone else."

"Doing what?"

"Stealing another man's money," he continued.

"Are you kidding me?" Daisy snapped. "That's crazy! He must be a kleptomaniac or something."

"I don't know what that even means," Marty continued. "But I talked to others, and he has done it several times. Almost all the homeless people in town know him."

"So, he's famous for being a rich loser who steals from the poorest?"

"Yeah."

"Obviously, the police won't do anything," Daisy muttered, biting her lip.

"Of course not," Marty confirmed. "The others also know about the incident at the hotel. They said Mr. Dumas paid off the prosecutor, the district attorney and a bunch of other people to dismiss the case."

"Of course he did," she breathed. "I understand parental love, but isn't it too much?"

"It's more than that," he insisted. "He can't keep doing that. He can't keep treating people like garbage and getting away with anything. Do you still have an in at the hotel?"

"Sorry," Daisy shook her head. "Anthony quit two months ago. The environment there is tricky. Mr. Clement told everyone in his circle to avoid the hotel, and Mr. Dumas started treating everyone like dirt. Alexander uses it like his personal harassment playground."

"Daisy, please. It's time for someone to stop these people," Marty said, frustration clear in his voice.

"Marty, I'm so sorry. But there's nothing we can do," Daisy said, defeated. "We're average people. We have no power against them."

"Yes, we do," he insisted. "We have other average people who worked for those people."

"Hmmm," she hesitated. "I guess I could try to contact some of the girls who quit because they got harassed. I could find some disgruntled employees. But that won't be enough. They have lawyers and people in their pockets."

"Average people have power. We just don't know it yet," Marty continued. "I have a plan. It's a long plan, and it may not produce results anytime soon. But I think it'll work. I just need help. Are you with me, Daisy?"

"Wait, a plan? What are you going to do?" Daisy asked, frowning. "What would be the desired result?"

"Mr. Dumas closes his hotel, and Alexander finally faces the consequences of treating others like they're below him," he answered.

"In jail?" she asked.

"Maybe."

"You sound really cryptic."

"It's just… I haven't worked out all the details," Marty chuckled slightly. "But will you help me?"

Daisy bit her lip, deep in thought. She was currently at her happiest professionally. Her job was fantastic, and people respected her. There was a zero-tolerance policy on harassment, even from guests. It was a safe place to work.

Whatever Marty was planning could derail her life. Was it worthwhile? Wasn't it better to let the universe punish Mr. Dumas and his spoiled brat? Would justice come on its own?

"Will we do anything illegal, Marty?" Daisy wondered.

"No."

"What about anything to hurt them physically?"

"Of course not."

"Okay," she said shyly. "I'm in. We'll have to be careful, no matter what you plan."

Marty smiled slowly. "Don't worry. We will."

He grabbed her shoulders, kissed her cheek, and waved goodbye. Daisy felt the blush on her face and shook her head. What did I just sign up for?

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