Wealthy Heir Humiliates Beggar Outside Luxury Hotel, Finds His Bank Account Drained Next Morning – Story of the Day

Peter arrives at his father's hotel and demands the establishment's ownership be transferred to him. His father sets a challenge: run the hotel for a day. However, a random homeless man upends Peter's plans.

Peter's jeep stopped outside the hotel, but he didn't get down. He sat in the vehicle for a long time, waiting for the driver, Arnold, to open the door for him.

Peter had grown up with privileges as the only son of a wealthy businessman. It didn't take long for all the wealth to go to his head, and he grew into an arrogant young man who never treated others with respect.

But Peter was no less troubled as a kid. His bad grades would often worry his father, who wondered if Peter would ever learn about the importance of hard work. But what Peter lacked in discipline, he made up for with his wit. He had this ability to talk himself out of any tight spot.

"How long do I have to wait before the door opens?" Peter now snapped at Arnold, who immediately exited the vehicle, approached Peter's door, and opened it.

Stepping inside his father's luxurious hotel, Peter was greeted by a young woman named Jenny. She asked if he'd like to have a welcome drink.

"Do you not know who I am?" Peter glared at her. "I only drink the special blend made for me!"

Jenny had no idea because she had only started working at the hotel a week ago. She apologized and disappeared to the kitchen to prepare Peter's drink. Peter made his way to his father's assistant, Marcus.

"Is Father in his office?" he asked, approaching the man.

"Ah, yes, sir," Marcus looked at him. "He's waiting for you."

"Why do you have such a displeased face, Marcus?" Peter quipped, making Marcus uncomfortable. "How can you work at a hotel when you can't even manage to smile?"

"I apologize, sir," Marcus replied politely. "It's been a long day, but that's no excuse. I'm sorry if I let it show on my face."

"Look, Marcus, pretty soon, I'm going to take over as the owner of this hotel. There will be no room for excuses then, believe me."

Without waiting for a reply, Peter strode towards his father, Mr. Greenwood's office.

***

Peter greeted his father, and they sat across from each other. His father called a waiter and ordered two cups of coffee.

"Hope it's better than the last one I had here," Peter sneered at the waiter.

"It's OK, Thomas. We all have our off days. Just make it the way you do," Mr. Greenwood told the waiter, who took the order and left.

"You need to respect everyone around you, son," Mr. Greenwood said. "Everyone plays a role in this establishment."

Soon, the coffee arrived, and Peter got straight to the point. "Dad, why don't you consider retirement?" he said. "You've worked hard all our life. Let me prove to you that I can run this place."

"But why do you need the hotel, son?" Mr. Greenwood reclined in his chair. "You've got $5 million in your accounts, set aside for your future."

Peter explained he wanted to earn his legacy, to prove that he wasn't some rich kid who had inherited his father's wealth. But Mr. Greenwood refused, knowing Peter couldn't run the business. However, Peter kept insisting, so Mr. Greenwood devised a test.

Five businessmen from five different countries would visit the hotel. Peter's duty was to ensure they had a smooth stay.

"Marcus will be there to help you," Mr. Greenwood continued. "I'll leave the hotel in 10 minutes. Today, you're the boss."

"But yes," Mr. Greenwood added as he was leaving. "Never forget our values, Peter. We treat every guest equally and how we want to be treated. I'll be back tomorrow."

An hour had passed since Mr. Greenwood left. Peter comfortably sat in his father's chair, talking to his friend on the phone, bragging about how he was the hotel's owner for the day when someone singing distracted him.

It was too loud to ignore, so Peter approached the window from where the sound seemed to be coming.

A homeless man stood on the pavement outside the hotel's entrance, lost in signing.

Peter was furious. He hung up the phone and angrily dashed out of the hotel to chase the homeless man away.

"Hey, you!" Peter approached him angrily. The man's face was partially obscured due to his thick, long hair, and his clothes, though tattered, weren't soiled.

"What do you think you're doing, huh? Singing in front of my hotel?"

"This pavement is a public place, sir," replied the man. "And the last I checked, there's no harm in singing."

"You're standing next to MY hotel's entrance!" Peter growled. "Soon enough, influential businessmen will be walking through those doors, and they don't need to be greeted by you. You're pathetic, dirty, ragged…Just get lost!"

"I'm sorry, but I'm not leaving, young man. No one chooses misfortune or hardship. And I didn't choose to lose everything overnight. Nobody has the right to belittle me like that! Your hotel may be behind closed doors, but out here? This is everyone's space."

"You dare talk back to me?" Peter fumed.

"Sir. I hope this helps you," Marcus intervened, extending $500 to the homeless man. "Maybe you can find a nice place to stay for a while and get some good food? Let's not create a scene here, please?"

The homeless man accepted the cash. "Not many people would do something like this! Thank you!"

As the homeless man walked away, Peter sharply turned to Marcus. "You didn't have to lose half a grand to get rid of a bum!"

"Sure, sir," Marcus replied. "But the way I see it, I ensured he left with gratitude, not resentment. You never know how these situations can escalate."

Suddenly, Marcus's phone beeped. "I advise we head inside, sir," he said, checking his phone. "Our first guest arrives soon."

***

Peter forgot about the situation with the homeless man as all the businessmen arrived. He welcomed them warmly, and when they gathered around a table for dinner, he approached them to ensure they were having a comfortable stay.

"The food is excellent, and the service is prompt," one of the businessmen said, making Peter sigh in relief. "I must say, I'm really impressed."

"I'd like to add that the flavors of the food served here are remarkable!" the Brazilian businessperson remarked. "Amazing food!"

"Good food, I agree with that," the third nodded, slicing his meat pie.

"And the ambiance is very charming," the fourth added.

A wave of relief washed over Peter. His clients were satisfied, and that was all he wanted. But it wasn't long before his calm was disrupted.

"Who is that gentleman? Seems like he might have taken a wrong turn," the fifth businessman remarked, looking at the reception.

Peter turned around, and blood drained off his face. The homeless man he had chased away some time ago stood at the reception.

"Don't worry, gentleman," Peter turned to face his guests, maintaining his composure. "I'll take care of it. Please enjoy your dinner."

Peter angrily approached the homeless man, demanding he get out. But the man waved the $500 he had received earlier and said, "I want to rent the cheapest room here for the night!"

Peter's face twisted in disbelief. "What? This is not a motel. This is a high-class establishment!"

"Every establishment, high-class or not, is bound by the law. You can't refuse service without a valid reason, especially if I'm willing to pay."

Before Peter could retort, Marcus intervened. "Mr. Greenwood," Marcus said in a measured tone, "He's right. As long as he can pay and we have available rooms, we cannot refuse him service based on his appearance alone. And if we do, it could lead to a police complaint and potentially a hefty fine."

"Fine," Peter muttered begrudgingly, "give him a room. But make sure it's the furthest one from our guests."

However, Peter was bent on not letting the homeless man stay.

That evening, after dinner, the businessmen were in the bar. The sounds of clinking glasses and soft laughter filled the room. But the ambiance was soon disrupted by the unexpected entrance of the homeless man.

Peter's face turned red with anger as he hurried over to the man. "What do you think you're doing here?" he snapped.

"Well, all guests of this hotel are entitled to a free cocktail. Isn't that right?" argued the homeless man.

Before Peter could react, one of the businessmen, Mr. Roberts, waved him over.

"Yes, sir?"

"Peter, there seems to be a small problem. The hand dryer in the restroom isn't working. Could you look into it?" he asked.

Peter assured Mr. Roberts that he would take care of the problem immediately. Forgetting about the homeless man, he stepped into the restroom. There, a glint on the counter caught Peter's eye. It was Mr. Robert's watch, indeed branded.

Initially, Peter's instinct was to return the valuable item to its rightful owner, but then he had an idea. If he placed the watch in the homeless man's room, it would be grounds to kick him out and perhaps even get the man arrested.

And Peter did that. Ensuring the coast was clear, he entered the homeless man's room using the master key. Peter kept the watch under the pillow. Then, he went to the surveillance room and deleted the footage of him entering the homeless man's room.

An hour later, the businessman, Mr. Roberts, was visibly upset, pacing back and forth in the lobby, talking animatedly with his colleagues. The missing watch wasn't just any watch; it was a family heirloom.

"Sir, I apologize for the inconvenience," Peter told him. "We take the security of our guests very seriously. I've called the police, and they will help us resolve this matter. I—"

Before Peter could finish, two officers walked in.

Peter immediately approached them. "Officers," he said. "Earlier this evening, I noticed a homeless man, who's staying with us, acting suspiciously. He was hiding something under his jacket as he walked back to his room."

"Do you have any surveillance footage that might help our investigation?" Officer Johnson asked.

Peter pretended to act disappointed. "I checked the footage earlier, but there was a glitch. However, I can show you the room where the homeless man is staying. Maybe you can find some evidence there."

Peter led the officers to the homeless man's room, and the watch was found. While Mr. Roberts was relieved, the homeless man who had just entered the room was perplexed by the sight.

"Do you have any explanation for this watch being here, sir?" Officer Johnson asked.

"I've never seen that watch before it was found under my pillow," the homeless man replied calmly. "I understand this looks bad, but I didn't take it."

"He must have taken it. Who else would? The evidence is right there in his room," Peter chimed in.

"We'll get to the bottom of this at the station. Let's not make a scene here." The officer gestured for the homeless man to follow him.

"Well, if I'm really found guilty, I'll happily walk myself behind bars." The homeless man left with the officers.

The next morning, Peter had just awoken when his father entered the room.

"Morning, Dad! I hope I've proven I'm ready to take over the hotel," Peter smiled.

"Yes, you may have impressed the businessmen, but you forgot the core value of our family and this hotel: integrity. By the way, check your account, Peter."

Confused, Peter quickly grabbed his phone from the bedside table and opened his banking app. His heart sank as he saw the balance. Where there once was a sum of 5 million dollars, now only a single dollar remained.

"What's going on? Why's there only a dollar left?" Peter stammered.

"Remember the homeless man and the watch incident? I was the homeless man. A little makeup, some ragged clothes, and voila! I became someone you didn't recognize. I wanted to see how you'd handle a real-world situation, and you failed, Peter," Mr. Greenwood gestured towards the door.

"You need some time away from the hotel. Reflect on your actions and think about what truly matters."

As Peter walked towards the exit, the weight of his decisions pressing down on him, he realized the most important lesson in business wasn't about money. It was about character.

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