Mother's Day Scam: I'm the Real Hotel Owner

I didn't take a single bite of that ridiculously expensive meal, and neither did Mom.

I planned to get the room key, settle down, then find a charger to power up my phone and figure out what was going on.

"Last name, Harrison. Please give me the key card for the presidential suite reserved in the system," I said, handing my ID to the front desk receptionist.

The receptionist was just about to enter the information into the computer when Jacob suddenly snatched my ID away. He glanced at it, then casually tossed it onto the counter.

"The presidential suite is reserved for my godsister to host important guests!" he said, crossing his arms proudly and rolling his eyes.

"People like you who had to hesitate over paying a 1,500-dollar meal bill are only worthy of staying in the cheapest standard room in the farthest corner of the first floor!"

My brows furrowed.

I had personally been involved in the design of this hotel. The presidential suite on the top floor had always been marked as "CEO Reserved" in the internal system.

Without my private authorization code, no one was allowed to change the room status. Now, the top-tier suite I had reserved for myself had been downgraded without my permission.

I finally reached my limit. Without another word, I walked around the counter and entered the front desk work area.

"Hey, what do you think you're doing?" the receptionist shouted.

I pushed her aside and placed both hands on the keyboard. As the hotel's actual controlling shareholder and one of the people involved in designing the system architecture, I could recite the system's backdoor commands even with my eyes closed.

Within a few quick moves, I pulled up the status logs for the presidential suite. Looking at the data on the screen, I was so angry that I actually laughed.

Starting last month, the presidential suite, which was listed at 1,300 dollars per night, had been secretly rented out by the hour for 300 dollars to a certain group.

Every afternoon, they brought dozens of people in and took turns taking photos inside. It was obvious they were using my hotel to pretend they were wealthy socialites.

I didn't actually care about that kind of activity, but what I couldn't accept was that they were using the suite I had personally reserved for myself.

Charging 300 dollars per hour meant earning 2,400 dollars in just eight hours. That money had most likely all gone straight into Jacob's and his godsister's private accounts.

Immediately, I laid out everything I had just deduced. A flash of panic crossed Jacob's face, but he quickly turned the accusation back on me.

"You're making things up!" he barked, pointing at me. "You illegally hacked into the hotel's computer system."

He then shouted toward the security guards outside, "Security! This man is a dangerous hacker who's just infiltrated our system to steal our corporate secrets! Remove them from the premises now!"

Several security guards immediately lunged forward.

Mom pointed at the lead guard and warned him, "Try touching us and see what happens. You can get charged for unlawful restraints! You're only hotel security guards—you have no legal authority!

"Think twice before laying a hand on us. Do you have what it takes to face the consequences?"

The security guards were just employees, after all. After hearing Mom's words, they hesitated. No one dared take another step forward.

Just then, a sudden scream pierced through the lounge area in the lobby. "Oh my God! My diamond necklace is gone!"

A woman dressed head to toe in luxury brands rushed to the front desk, looking panicked. She stomped her feet anxiously.

"I just went to the restroom and left my bag on the couch in the lobby. When I came back, the necklace was gone! That was a limited-edition piece worth over 300,000 dollars!"

Jacob's eyes immediately darted around. He pointed at Mom and me, accusing, "It was them! They were the only two people sitting near that couch earlier! They couldn't even bear to pay for their meal—it had to be them!"