Thief Tries to Rob a Wealthy Businessman and Ends Up Saving His Life – Story of the Day

When the old man he had just stolen from started coughing, Ollie decided to return and give him an inhaler. He never expected to be repaid with a job offer—however, another opportunity appeared at the old man's mansion when his butler told Ollie a secret.

The bustling bistro hummed with the clinking of cutlery and murmurs of patrons enjoying their midday meals. Ollie weaved between tables, his eyes scanning for an opportunity in the lunchtime rush.

As fate would have it, his path intersected with that of Mr. Livingstone, a well-dressed businessman engrossed in his lunch. After pretending to have a slight misstep with a glass of water, Ollie was able to instigate his plan.

"Apologies, sir. Let me take care of that," Ollie said. He dabbed at the damp spot on Mr. Livingstone's jacket, his fingers snatching the briefcase beside the businessman's chair.

"No need," Mr. Livingstone grumbled, waving Ollie away. The discreet thief walked a few steps, but the universe had another idea. Mr. Livingstone took a hurried bite of his meal, and a piece of food lodged in his throat. His face turned crimson as he struggled to breathe.

Ollie's eyes widened in alarm. His hand instinctively reached for the businessman's briefcase, intending to flee. Yet, as he popped it open, his thieving instincts collided with a startling discovery—a lone inhaler nestled inside.

After biting his lips briefly, Ollie dashed back to Mr. Livingstone's side. "Here, use this," he urged, handing over the inhaler. Relief flooded Mr. Livingstone's features as he gasped for air.

"Thank you," Mr. Livingstone managed between breaths. "You saved my life."

Ollie stood momentarily stunned, wondering if he had done the right thing. After all, he had his reasons for taking the briefcase.

After a quick introduction, the elegant businessman invited him to his house for an important discussion. "I owe you a debt I intend to repay," Mr. Livingstone insisted.

Reluctantly, Ollie nodded. "I'll come."

Mr. Livingstone nodded in return.

***

The opulence of Mr. Livingstone's mahogany-lined office enveloped Ollie as he stepped in, feeling out of place.

"Please, have a seat," Mr. Livingstone gestured toward a plush armchair opposite his desk. Ollie perched on the edge of the chair, his hands fidgeting with nervous energy. The businessman dove right into the discussion. "How would you like a job?"

Ollie's eyebrows raised, but he listened to the older man intently. "What do you think?" Mr. Livingstone asked upon fishing his offer.

"Mr. Livingstone, I..." Ollie began, uncertainty lacing his words, but he was interrupted by the arrival of Mr. Livingstone's butler.

"Apologies for the interruption, sir," the butler announced, his gaze flickering briefly toward Ollie before focusing on Mr. Livingstone. "The lawyers have arrived as scheduled."

Mr. Livingstone nodded, acknowledging the interruption. "Thank you, Corey. We'll resume this discussion later." His gaze lingered on Ollie, a silent understanding passing between them before he exited the office.

Left alone in the abundant space, Ollie's mind buzzed with conflicting thoughts. His gaze wandered, drawn to the elegance surrounding him—ornate family portraits adorning the walls, antique clocks ticking away the moments. A silent struggle waged within him.

His fingers twitched, longing to touch the gleaming watches displayed on Mr. Livingstone's desk, each whispering promises of an easy solution to his financial struggles. He could take them, but returning that briefcase yesterday felt so good without being noticed. But his hands still rose to grab the shiny, expensive accessories.

The office door creaked open unexpectedly, revealing Corey standing at the threshold, a knowing expression on his face. He locked eyes with Ollie, who had already retrieved his hands.

"I know what you want," Corey stated calmly. "You're just like me. You crave what isn't yours."

Ollie's heart skipped a beat, caught off-guard by Corey's perceptiveness.

"I have an offer," Corey continued. "You and I, we can turn the tables. There's a way to take what we need and disappear, leaving Mr. Livingstone behind."

The butler explained his plan: going into Mr. Livingstone's office, finding his safe, and decoding the security pass. He couldn't do it, but Ollie had been offered a job with much more freedom.

Ollie's breath stopped. "I..." His voice faltered. He shook his head, trying to push away the temptation that Corey's offer presented.

When Mr. Livingstone returned, Ollie accepted the work offer. But his mind was still not made up regarding the butler's tempting plan.

***

In the dimly lit confines of Ollie's cramped yet comforting apartment, his mother, a frail figure nestled in an aged bed, coughed violently.

Ollie stood by her side. His eyes flitted between his mother and the meager surroundings. "Mom, please, take it easy," he implored, reaching out to support her trembling frame.

She looked up at him, wrinkling her eyes. "What's going on, Ollie? You're keeping something from me," she said perceptively.

Ollie's swallowed. "It's... it's nothing, just work stuff," he offered weakly. Money stuff, really. How can I pay for your medication and treatment when I'm such a failure?

His mother reached out, gripping his hand with a frail yet firm grasp. "Don't lie to me, Ollie. I can feel it. Something's not right."

Ollie hesitated, and another fit of coughing seized his mother. "I'm... I'm trying, Mom," he admitted, hanging his head. "I just need more time."

His mother's gaze softened. "Whatever it is, Ollie, we'll face it together. Just promise me you won't lose yourself in the process."

The weight of her words settled upon him, a reminder of the fine line he walked between survival and losing sight of his integrity.

***

Back within the ornate confines of Mr. Livingstone's mansion, Ollie found himself in the study, surrounded by the weight of history and memories. He had been working for the older man for a few days.

Today, he was finally tasked to work on something in the study again, and it was impossible not to try to decode the safe. He sifted through the carefully arranged artifacts, his fingers tracing the edges of old letters and faded photographs. Among the keepsakes, he discovered a cache of letters written by Mr. Livingstone's son.

He looked at every single number among the words and sentences, trying to determine if any could be used for the elusive safe. The very last letter had a date at the bottom that had been circled in pen. Ollie decided to try it, and to his shock, the safe opened quickly.

Stacks of bills lay neatly arranged alongside Mr. Livingstone's personal effects, tempting him with their promise of an immediate solution to his woes. Before he could make his own decision, Corey appeared.

Corey advanced toward the open safe without a word, his intentions clear. "This is it, Ollie," Corey urged, his eyes glinting. "The chance we've been waiting for."

But as Ollie reached for the money, his gaze fell upon a familiar sight—a bottle of medication identical to the one his mother relied upon for her daily survival. He realized with a jolt that Mr. Livingstone had his mother's disease, too.

"I can't," Ollie murmured, his voice trembling. "I won't do this."

Corey's features contorted. "Are you out of your mind? This is our ticket out!"

But Ollie stood his ground. Though battered and torn, his conscience emerged victorious in that fleeting moment. Corey snatched a handful of bills and bolted from the room before Ollie could stop him.

The faint sound of a door creaking had Ollie twirling, and his mouth opened slightly at the sight of Mr. Livingstone. The older man surveyed the study, squinting his eyes.

Ollie steeled himself, expecting accusation or worse. "Mr. Livingstone, I—" he began, stuttering.

"I know," Mr. Livingstone's words hung heavy in the air. "I know about everything, Ollie."

The admission left Ollie momentarily speechless. With a quiet grace, Mr. Livingstone approached Ollie, his steps measured yet purposeful. He extended a weathered hand, the gesture laden with an unexpected warmth that thawed the icy tendrils of Ollie's apprehension.

"You have been carrying a burden, Ollie," Mr. Livingstone's voice softened. "I have watched you struggle, hoping that you would find the strength to face your demons."

A flicker of astonishment danced in Ollie's eyes.

"I had my doubts," Mr. Livingstone continued. "But I believed in your potential. I had you investigated before offering you the job, hoping this opportunity would be a turning point."

Tears threatened to well up in Ollie's eyes. "I... I'm sorry," his voice wavered. "I never meant to—"

Mr. Livingstone silenced him with a gentle gesture. "We all make mistakes, Ollie. What matters is how we choose to move forward. And I believe you deserve a chance—a chance my son never had."

Ollie's brow furrowed in confusion.

"My son," Mr. Livingstone's voice softened, "he had a brilliant mind but plagued by demons he couldn't conquer. He never found his redemption. You have similar demons."

The older man was right. Ollie didn't just struggle with the demons called debts and medical bills… he was struggling with his mental disease—kleptomania.

"I want you to have what he never could," Mr. Livingstone declared, retrieving a weathered envelope from the depths of his desk. "This is my son's inheritance. I've decided that it's time this legacy serves a purpose that I believe you're destined to fulfill."

"I don't know what to say," Ollie breathed.

"You don't need to say anything," Mr. Livingstone replied, smiling. "Just promise me you'll use this opportunity to build a better future for yourself and those you care about."

With a solemn nod, Ollie accepted the weight of the legacy entrusted to him and a vow etched in his heart to honor Mr. Livingstone's faith in him.

Tell us what you think about this story, and share it with your friends. It might inspire them and brighten their day.

If you enjoyed this story, you might like this one about grandkids who wanted to take their wealthy grandmother's money but didn't realize how smart she was.

This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone's life. If you would like to share your story, please send it to info@amomama.com.