When Nancy’s landlord demanded she and her three daughters vacate their rental home for a week, she thought life couldn’t get worse. But a surprise meeting with the landlord’s brother revealed a shocking betrayal.
Our house isn’t much, but it’s ours. The floors creak with every step, and the paint in the kitchen is peeling so badly that I’ve started calling it “abstract art.”
An old house | Source: Pexels
Still, it’s home. My daughters, Lily, Emma, and Sophie, make it feel that way, with their laughter and the little things they do that remind me why I push so hard.
Money was always on my mind. My job as a waitress barely covered our rent and bills. There was no cushion, no backup plan. If something went wrong, I didn’t know what we’d do.
The phone rang the next day while I was hanging out laundry to dry.
A woman hanging laundry | Source: Pexels
“Hello?” I answered, tucking the phone between my ear and shoulder.
“Nancy, it’s Peterson.”
His voice made my stomach tighten. “Oh, hi, Mr. Peterson. Is everything okay?”
“I need you out of the house for a week,” he said, as casually as if he were asking me to water his plants.
A woman talking on her phone | Source: Pexels
“What?” I froze, a pair of Sophie’s socks still in my hands.
“My brother’s coming to town, and he needs a place to stay. I told him he could use your house.”
I thought I must’ve misheard him. “Wait—this is my home. We have a lease!”
“Don’t start with that lease nonsense,” he snapped. “Remember when you were late on rent last month? I could’ve kicked you out then, but I didn’t. You owe me.”
An angry man talking on his phone | Source: Freepik
I gripped the phone tighter. “I was late by one day,” I said, my voice shaking. “My daughter was sick. I explained that to you—”
“Doesn’t matter,” he interrupted. “You’ve got till Friday to get out. Be gone, or maybe you won’t come back at all.”
“Mr. Peterson, please,” I said, trying to keep the desperation out of my voice. “I don’t have anywhere else to go.”
An expressive woman talking | Source: Pexels
“Not my problem,” he said coldly, and then the line went dead.
I sat on the couch, staring at the phone in my hand. My heart pounded in my ears, and I felt like I couldn’t breathe.
“Mama, what’s wrong?” Lily, my oldest, asked from the doorway, her eyes filled with concern.
I forced a smile. “Nothing, sweetheart. Go play with your sisters.”
A woman talking to her daughter | Source: Pexels
But it wasn’t nothing. I had no savings, no family nearby, and no way to fight back. If I stood up to Peterson, he’d find an excuse to evict us for good.
By Thursday night, I’d packed what little we could carry into a few bags. The girls were full of questions, but I didn’t know how to explain what was happening.
“We’re going on an adventure,” I told them, trying to sound cheerful.
A woman packing together with her daughter | Source: Pexels
“Is it far?” Sophie asked, clutching Mr. Floppy to her chest.
“Not too far,” I said, avoiding her gaze.
The hostel was worse than I expected. The room was tiny, barely big enough for the four of us, and the walls were so thin we could hear every cough, every creak, every loud voice from the other side.
A woman in a hostel | Source: Freepik
“Mama, it’s noisy,” Emma said, pressing her hands over her ears.
“I know, sweetie,” I said softly, stroking her hair.
Lily tried to distract her sisters by playing I Spy, but it didn’t work for long. Sophie’s little face crumpled, and tears started streaming down her cheeks.
“Where’s Mr. Floppy?” she cried, her voice breaking.
A crying child | Source: Pexels
My stomach sank. In the rush to leave, I’d forgotten her bunny.
“He’s still at home,” I said, my throat tightening.
“I can’t sleep without him!” Sophie sobbed, clutching my arm.
I wrapped her in my arms and held her close, whispering that it would be okay. But I knew it wasn’t okay.
A woman hugging her crying child | Source: Freepik
That night, as Sophie cried herself to sleep, I stared at the cracked ceiling, feeling completely helpless.
By the fourth night, Sophie’s crying hadn’t stopped. Every sob felt like a knife to my heart.
“Please, Mama,” she whispered, her voice raw. “I want Mr. Floppy.”
I held her tightly, rocking her back and forth.
A crying girl | Source: Pexels
I couldn’t take it anymore.
“I’ll get him,” I whispered, more to myself than to her.
I didn’t know how, but I had to try.
I parked down the street, my heart pounding as I stared at the house. What if they didn’t let me in? What if Mr. Peterson was there? But Sophie’s tear-streaked face wouldn’t leave my mind.
A thoughtful woman in front of her house | Source: Midjourney
I took a deep breath and walked up to the door, Sophie’s desperate “please” echoing in my ears. My knuckles rapped against the wood, and I held my breath.
The door opened, and a man I’d never seen before stood there. He was tall, with a kind face and sharp green eyes.
“Can I help you?” he asked, looking puzzled.
A man in front of his house | Source: Midjourney
“Hi,” I stammered. “I—I’m sorry to bother you, but I’m the tenant here. My daughter left her stuffed bunny inside, and I was hoping I could grab it.”
He blinked at me. “Wait. You live here?”
“Yes,” I said, feeling a lump form in my throat. “But Mr. Peterson told us we had to leave for a week because you were staying here.”
A sad woman in the doorway | Source: Pexels
His brows furrowed. “What? My brother said the place was empty and ready for me to move in for a bit.”
I couldn’t stop the words from spilling out. “It’s not empty. This is my home. My kids and I are crammed into a hostel across town. My youngest can’t sleep because she doesn’t have her bunny.”
A sad young woman talking to a man | Source: Midjourney
His face darkened, and for a second, I thought he was angry at me. Instead, he muttered, “That son of a…” He stopped himself, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.
“I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice softer now. “I had no idea. Come in, and we’ll find the bunny.”
A serious young man opening his door | Source: Midjourney
He stepped aside, and I hesitated before walking in. The familiar smell of home hit me, and my eyes burned with tears I refused to let fall. Jack—he introduced himself as Jack—helped me search Sophie’s room, which looked untouched.
“Here he is,” Jack said, pulling Mr. Floppy from under the bed.
A pink stuffed bunny under a bed | Source: Midjourney
I held the bunny close, imagining Sophie’s joy. “Thank you,” I said, my voice trembling.
“Tell me everything,” Jack said, sitting on the edge of Sophie’s bed. “What exactly did my brother say to you?”
I hesitated but told him everything: the call, the threats, the hostel. He listened quietly, his jaw tightening with every word.
A couple talking | Source: Midjourney
When I finished, he stood and pulled out his phone. “This isn’t right,” he said.
“Wait—what are you doing?”
“Fixing this,” he said, dialing.
The conversation that followed was heated, though I could only hear his side.
A serious man on his phone | Source: Pexels
“You kicked a single mom and her kids out of their home? For me?” Jack’s voice was sharp. “No, you’re not getting away with this. Fix it now, or I will.”
He hung up and turned to me. “Pack your things at the hostel. You’re coming back tonight.”
I blinked, not sure I’d heard him right. “What about you?”
“I’ll find somewhere else to stay,” he said firmly. “I can’t stay here after what my brother pulled. And he’ll cover your rent for the next six months.”
A smiling man talking to a woman | Source: Midjourney
That evening, Jack helped us move back in. Sophie lit up when she saw Mr. Floppy, her little arms clutching the bunny like a treasure.
“Thank you,” I told Jack as we unpacked. “You didn’t have to do all this.”
“I couldn’t let you stay there another night,” he said simply.
A young child holding her toy | Source: Midjourney
Over the next few weeks, Jack kept showing up. He fixed the leaky faucet in the kitchen. One night, he brought over groceries.
“You didn’t have to do this,” I said, feeling overwhelmed.
“It’s nothing,” he said with a shrug. “I like helping.”
A man with groceries | Source: Pexels
The girls adored him. Lily asked for his advice on her science project. Emma roped him into board games. Even Sophie warmed up to him, offering Mr. Floppy a “hug” for Jack to join their tea party.
I started to see more of the man behind the kind gestures. He was funny, patient, and genuinely cared about my kids. Eventually, our dinners together blossomed into a romance.
A couple on a date night | Source: Pexels
One evening several months later, as we sat on the porch after the girls had gone to bed, Jack spoke quietly.
“I’ve been thinking,” he said, looking out into the yard.
“About what?”
“I don’t want you and the girls to ever feel like this again. No one should be scared of losing their home overnight.”
A young man talking to his girlfriend | Source: Midjourney
His words hung in the air.
“I want to help you find something permanent,” he continued. “Will you marry me?”
I was stunned. “Jack… I don’t know what to say. Yes!”
A marriage proposal | Source: Pexels
A month later, we moved into a beautiful little house Jack found for us. Lily had her own room. Emma painted hers pink. Sophie ran to hers, holding Mr. Floppy like a shield.
As I tucked Sophie in that night, she whispered, “Mama, I love our new home.”
“So do I, baby,” I said, kissing her forehead.
A woman tucking her daughter in | Source: Midjourney
Jack stayed for dinner that night, helping me set the table. As the girls chattered, I looked at him and knew: he wasn’t just our hero. He was family.
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
My Greedy Father-in-Law Put a Hair in an Expensive Dish to Get It for Free—but Karma Got Him Immediately
Frank had always prided himself on his sneaky tactics to get freebies, but his luck ran out at a high-end restaurant. What began as a simple meal turned into a public spectacle when karma finally caught up with him, teaching him a lesson he never saw coming.
My father-in-law, Frank, has always been one of those people who never miss an opportunity to scam others for their own benefit.
I’ve witnessed him do that multiple times, but I never thought I’d see the day when his tricks would backfire so spectacularly, leaving him red-faced and scrambling for an exit.
A close-up shot of an older man in a restaurant | Source: Midjourney
I’ve known Frank for about nine years now. I first met him when Ethan and I started dating, and Ethan introduced us over dinner at a restaurant. That was the first time I saw Frank trying to scam a restaurant.
The waiters served our food, and we began eating. I ordered pasta, Ethan got a sandwich, and Frank ordered a bowl of rice with sesame chicken.
A bowl of sesame chicken with rice | Source: Pexels
“The chicken is so delicious!” Frank said, enjoying his meal.
“Yeah, even this sandwich tastes great,” Ethan added.
I thought Frank was just appreciating the restaurant’s food and service. But no. Frank had something else in mind, and what he did next caught me completely off guard.
“Let me show you how to get more of the same meal for free!” he said before calling a waiter over to our table.
An older man in a restaurant, smiling | Source: Midjourney
“How can I help you, sir?” the waiter asked politely.
“This chicken tastes awful!” Frank said angrily, shaking his head in disapproval. “I can’t believe you’re serving such tasteless meals. The flavor is bland, and it’s not even properly cooked.”
“I’m so sorry, sir,” the waiter apologized. “I’ll get a replacement right away.”
“Hurry up!” Frank snapped. “I don’t have time to waste here. You better return with something that’s properly cooked!”
A waiter in a restaurant | Source: Midjourney
The waiter looked panicked, apologizing as if he was at fault. He took away the half-eaten meal that Frank pretended to dislike, promising to return in five minutes.
Once the waiter left, Frank flashed us an evil smile like he had pulled off something impressive.
At that point, I wanted to ask Frank why he lied to get another meal for free. It wasn’t like he didn’t have money, or he was dying of hunger.
A woman looking straight ahead while having dinner with her family | Source: Midjourney
What he did was so cheap, but I believed I was not in a position to make him realize how wrong he was.
Later that night, I asked Ethan why his father did that.
“He’s always been like this,” Ethan sighed. “He thinks it’s funny and he never listens when we tell him it’s wrong. We’ve tried a million times, trust me.”
“But didn’t you see how hurt that waiter was? He really thought your dad didn’t like the food,” I protested. “This is so wrong, Ethan. So unfair.”
A woman talking to her boyfriend | Source: Midjourney
Ethan told me to let it go, and since we were just starting our relationship, I figured it wasn’t worth arguing over.
I could’ve pressed Ethan to understand how wrong Frank’s actions were, but I didn’t want something so minor to strain our relationship.
However, looking back, I wish I had told Ethan to put an end to his dad’s habit.
An older man in a restaurant | Source: Midjourney
The following year, Ethan and I tied the knot, and since then, I’ve been a witness to how cheap Frank is. I’ve watched in horror as he pulled stunts to get free food, free services in hotels, and free ANYTHING, ANYWHERE!
A man shaking hands with a woman at work | Source: Pexels
During the first year of our marriage, I tried explaining to Ethan how wrong his father’s behavior was, but it led to a big argument. Ethan kept saying he had no control over Frank, while I insisted he at least talk to his dad about it.
That night, I decided to stop meddling in Frank’s business because it was useless. Little did I know, karma was about to step in and teach Frank a lesson he’d never forget.
It all started when Frank called Ethan last weekend.
A man talking to his father on the phone | Source: Pexels
“There’s a new restaurant near my workplace,” he said. “I was wondering if you and Bella could join me. I’ve heard the food’s quite expensive so I just wanna see if it’s worth the money.”
“Sure, Dad,” Ethan replied. “We’ll be there.”
Two days later, we found ourselves in the restaurant with Frank. It was one of those fancy places where the plates are tiny, the prices are outrageous, and you need a reservation just to get in.
A fancy restaurant | Source: Pexels
“This place looks nice,” I said as I skimmed through the menu. “But wow, it’s pricey.”
“Yeah, it’s super expensive,” Ethan said. “I think I’ll stick with a simple pasta.”
“Me too,” I agreed. “White sauce pasta for me. What about you, Frank?”
Frank was busy scanning the menu, his finger trailing down to the most expensive item.
“I’ll have the lobster,” he grinned.
“A lobster? Really Dad?” Ethan asked. “You’ve never ordered one before.”
A man sitting in a restaurant | Source: Midjourney
“I know you’d say this,” Frank replied. “But it’s nice to try new things, isn’t it?”
“You’re right, Dad,” Ethan said before calling the waiter.
We placed our orders, but I could tell Frank was gearing up for another one of his stunts.
Soon, our food arrived, and we began eating. However, halfway through the dinner, I noticed Frank staring at his lobster. I couldn’t understand what was happening until he plucked a hair from my head and placed it on his dish.
Yep, Frank had the nerve to do that. I was too stunned to say a word.
An angry woman in a restaurant | Source: Midjourney
Then he called the waiter over, feigning disgust.
“There’s a hair in my food,” Frank exclaimed, pushing his seat away from the table as if the hair would fly over to him. “This is unacceptable! I shouldn’t have to pay for this filth!”
What the heck? I thought. How can he even think of doing that?
I was mortified, while Ethan looked like he was about to explode with anger.
“I’m so sorry, sir,” the waiter said. “I’ll let the manager know.”
That’s when karma made its move.
A waiter in a restaurant | Source: Midjourney
The manager approached our table a few seconds later.
“We’re so sorry for the inconvenience, sir,” he apologized.
I think he was about to offer a complimentary meal when another waiter came over to our table and whispered something in the manager’s ear.
That’s when the manager’s expression changed from apologetic to stone-cold serious. He took a deep breath and said, “Sir, I need to ask you to leave.”
“What? Why should I leave?” Frank protested. “I found hair in my food and you’re kicking me out? Is this how you treat your customers?”
An angry older man | Source: Midjourney
“Sir, I’m asking you to leave because we believe you put the hair in the dish yourself,” the manager said calmly.
I can never forget the look on Frank’s face. Shocked, horrified, and caught off guard, he still tried to argue.
“How dare you accuse me of that!” he yelled at the manager. “I’ll have your job for this!”
By now, the whole restaurant was watching.
People in a restaurant | Source: Pexels
“Sir,” the manager began, “one of our staff members recognized you from another restaurant where you pulled the same stunt. We take food safety seriously here and won’t tolerate attempts to defame our business. Please leave, or we will involve the authorities.”
At that point, people around us started whispering among themselves, and some of them were even laughing. Meanwhile, Ethan and I looked at each other, wishing we hadn’t agreed to this dinner.
But it didn’t end there.
A man sitting with his wife in a restaurant | Source: Midjourney
Frank was at a loss for words and knew he couldn’t do anything to prove the manager wrong. So, he stood up and picked up his coat, preparing to leave.
“And one more thing, sir,” the manager said. “We’re sharing your photo and details with several other high-end restaurants in the area. You’ll no longer be welcome at any of them.”
Frank’s face turned pale as he realized what the manager just said.
An older man in a restaurant, looking shocked | Source: Midjourney
What bothered him more was that the entire restaurant heard him and many of them were laughing at him. At that point, he understood he could no longer pull his cheap stunts to claim free food.
Karma had defeated him.
Frank stormed out of the restaurant without saying another word, while Ethan and I sat there in silence. Once the shock wore off, I couldn’t help but laugh at what just happened.
A woman laughing | Source: Midjourney
“I never thought I’d see the day!” I said, still laughing. “Frank finally got a taste of his own medicine, and it wasn’t free.”
Ethan chuckled, shaking his head. “Maybe he’ll finally realize that cheating his way through life always has a cost.”
That night, I finally understood how karma works. I couldn’t help but think that sometimes, karma is just waiting for the perfect moment to strike. And that moment might be right when you’re about to dig into an overpriced lobster.
Do you agree?
A lobster served in a dish | Source: Pexels
If you enjoyed reading this story, here’s another one you might like: My wedding day took a bizarre turn when our videographer pulled me aside with shocking footage. What I saw next would test my new marriage, expose a family’s dark secrets, and leave me questioning everything I thought I knew about love and trust.
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher
Leave a Reply