My Daughter’s Landlord Set Her up So He Could Evict Her and Raise the Rent – We Taught Him a Smart Lesson

When Jason’s phone rings in the middle of the night, he finds his daughter crying. During the conversation, he discovers that her landlord is forcing her out of her place. Jason decides to give the landlord a lesson…

I received the call late at night; it was so unexpected that I answered it without even thinking about who could be on the other end. Groggily, I clicked the green icon and held my phone up to my ear.

A man sleeping | Source: Midjourney

A man sleeping | Source: Midjourney

“Dad,” Lily, my daughter, sobbed into my ear.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, immediately sitting up and getting my feet into my slippers. “Tell me, Lily, what’s happening?”

An upset young woman | Source: Midjourney

An upset young woman | Source: Midjourney

“My landlord found out that I got a raise at work. I was sitting on the porch with Nolan, and we were laughing about it and toasting. And of course, he heard it from the front house. Ever since, he keeps talking about renovations and higher rent.”

“Okay,” I said slowly, trying to understand despite the grogginess from sleep.

A close-up of an older man | Source: Midjourney

A close-up of an older man | Source: Midjourney

Sure, it was a disgusting way to make money off people, but it wasn’t something to cry about.

“But sweetheart, why are you crying?” I asked, trying to keep my own voice steady.

Everything in me wanted to run to my child. But I wouldn’t do anything until she gave me a reason to.

An upset young woman | Source: Midjourney

An upset young woman | Source: Midjourney

“After I had no reaction to the rent increase, he secretly threw some old, prohibited chemical containers into my backyard and then accused me of violating the lease by storing hazardous materials on the property,” she said.

“What?” I exploded. “That’s illegal!”

Numerous plastic containers | Source: Unsplash

Numerous plastic containers | Source: Unsplash

“And he has given me two days to move out,” she continued.

I was fuming. My daughter had transformed that backyard from a barren plot into a blooming oasis. She poured her heart into every plant, every flower, and every single vegetable.

A beautiful outdoor space | Source: Unsplash

A beautiful outdoor space | Source: Unsplash

She had always been like this. Lily wasn’t the type of child to sit inside and play with her toys. She preferred to stay outside and get her hands dirty, trying to discover how things grew.

“This is so much fun, Dad,” she told me one day when I was mowing the lawn and little Lily was planting flowers.

A little girl in a garden | Source: Unsplash

A little girl in a garden | Source: Unsplash

“There’s a few worms there,” she said, pointing. “But I still planted the seedlings anyway.”

Her mother hated it. She wanted Lily to have freshly pressed clothing, clean nails, and hair that stayed in place.

“You need to stop enabling this behavior, Jason,” my wife, Jenna, would say. “Encourage her to be a little lady.”

A happy little girl standing on a bed | Source: Midjourney

A happy little girl standing on a bed | Source: Midjourney

“Not a chance, Jenna,” I would always say. “Let this sweet girl just be herself.”

Now, after everything Lily had done to make her garden her own space, all I wanted to do was try and save her hard work.

A little girl climbing a tree | Source: Pexels

A little girl climbing a tree | Source: Pexels

“Don’t worry, honey,” I said, a plan already forming in my mind.

“How, Dad?” she asked.

“Because we’ll sort this out. And we’ll do it together.”

A smiling older man | Source: Midjourney

A smiling older man | Source: Midjourney

The next evening, I showed up at Lily’s place with my truck and a few friends. We were armed with flashlights and a healthy dose of righteous anger.

“Right, guys,” I said. “We’re going to do this for my daughter. We’re going to teach Jack a lesson. That as a landlord, you cannot go around and take advantage of young women.”

A group of older men | Source: Midjourney

A group of older men | Source: Midjourney

We meticulously dismantled the entire backyard haven that Lily put together.

“Dad?” Lily asked when she realized that we were there. “What’s going on?”

“Hi, darling,” I said. “We’re going to teach your landlord a lesson. He cannot do this. So, we’re going to take everything apart. I’ll take your plants home, too.”

Tools on a bench | Source: Midjourney

Tools on a bench | Source: Midjourney

Lily yawned and stretched.

“I’ll leave you to it, Dad,” she said. “I’m going to rest for a little bit and then get back to packing up the place when the sun comes up. I’m going to stay with Nolan until I find a place. He’ll be here with more boxes soon.”

“Go on,” I said. “We’ll be quiet, I promise.”

A tired young woman | Source: Midjourney

A tired young woman | Source: Midjourney

As we worked, every lovingly tended plant, every painstakingly built bed, vanished. By the time we were done, the once-flourishing garden was reduced to a desolate patch of dirt, a stark contrast to the lush photos Jack, the landlord, had already posted for the new listing.

A house listing photo | Source: Midjourney

A house listing photo | Source: Midjourney

“Thanks, guys,” I said. “You can leave. I’ll just help Lily pack. I’ll pick up my truck later, Malcolm.”

I wasn’t done. There was still more work to be done.

Inside the house, we rearranged the furniture to highlight all the faults.

A woman surrounded by boxes | Source: Midjourney

A woman surrounded by boxes | Source: Midjourney

The cracks in the walls were not hidden by Lily’s art pieces. The missing tiles were left out in the open without any kitchen appliances to cover them up.

“Nothing can be done about the ceiling mold in the bathroom,” Lily told me. “But I have been telling the landlord that we needed to sort it out.”

Cracks in a wall | Source: Midjourney

Cracks in a wall | Source: Midjourney

We replaced all the light bulbs with very bright blue-white ones, making the entire place look stark and uninviting.

As we worked, Lily and I talked about her time in the house.

A man carrying a box | Source: Midjourney

A man carrying a box | Source: Midjourney

“I remember when I first moved in,” she said, a hint of nostalgia in her voice. “The backyard was just dirt and concrete. And I didn’t think that anything could grow here. But eventually it did. And every time I felt homesick, I would come out here and plant something new or tend to whatever was growing.”

“And you made it happen,” I replied, smiling. “You turned it into a paradise.”

A young woman planting | Source: Midjourney

A young woman planting | Source: Midjourney

She sighed.

“It just feels so unfair. I did everything right, and he still found a way to ruin it all.”

“We’re not going to let him win,” I assured her. “This is just a setback. You’ve got a new adventure waiting for you. Nolan’s place is a good stop for now, but I know that he’s serious about you. Maybe a new house together is going to be the next step.”

A smiling father and daughter | Source: Midjourney

A smiling father and daughter | Source: Midjourney

I left my daughter’s place feeling confident that her landlord would get a really good wake-up call the next day.

“Dad, can you come over?” Lily asked me on the phone early that morning. “Please be here when I have to hand over the keys to Jack.”

“I’ll be there soon,” I said, buttering my slice of toast.

Buttered toast on a plate | Source: Midjourney

Buttered toast on a plate | Source: Midjourney

Lily had me packing her shoes into a box when Jack stormed in, livid.

“What the hell, Lily?” he demanded. “Where are the plants? The flowers? The pictures online clearly show what this place is supposed to look like!”

He sighed deeply, his face turning the color of a particularly overripe tomato.

A shocked old man | Source: Midjourney

A shocked old man | Source: Midjourney

Lily, the picture of innocence, blinked at him.

“What plants, Jack?” she asked. “The backyard has always looked like this, haven’t you noticed?”

She gestured toward the desolate patch, a sly smile playing on her lips.

Jack, caught red-handed with his deceitful plan, spluttered some incoherent threats about property damage. I stepped in, pointing at the exposed faults.

A desolate backyard | Source: Midjourney

A desolate backyard | Source: Midjourney

“You want to talk about damage?” I said, my voice cold.

“Let’s discuss the cracks in the walls, the missing tiles, and the mold in the bathroom. You can see everything clearly now, can’t you?”

Jack’s eyes widened as he looked into the bathroom.

“This is clearly sabotage!” he yelled.

A close-up of an older man | Source: Midjourney

A close-up of an older man | Source: Midjourney

“No,” I replied, pulling out the photos I’d taken when Lily moved in.

“This is exactly how the place was when she moved in. If anything, it’s tidier now. Nothing is missing, Jack.”

Jack tried to regain his composure, but the three couples who came for the viewing that afternoon saw the house in its raw, unappealing state. They all left without putting in an application.

A smiling young woman | Source: Midjourney

A smiling young woman | Source: Midjourney

Meanwhile, after a few months, Lily found a new place with a landlord who appreciated her green thumb, not just the potential for profit. As my daughter settled into her new home, I couldn’t help but feel proud.

Lily and I sat on her new porch, looking out at the spacious yard that would soon become her next gardening project.

A smiling older man | Source: Unsplash

A smiling older man | Source: Unsplash

“Dad, I can’t thank you enough,” she said, her eyes bright with relief and excitement. “I was so scared, but you knew exactly what to do.”

I smiled, squeezing her hand as we swung on the porch swing. “You did the hard part, kiddo. You stood up to him. And now, you’ve got a fresh start.”

A porch swing | Source: Unsplash

A porch swing | Source: Unsplash

What would you have done?

If you enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you:

My Sweetest Old Neighbor Helped Me Unpack & Later, I Found Her Note in the Box – It Made Me Immediately Sell the House

When Phoebe decides that her new chapter begins with a divorce and a new house, she finds a little house in a sleepy neighborhood. As she gets unpacking, she meets a wonderful neighbor, who has a big responsibility for Phoebe.

When we first moved to the little house at the end of Maple Street, I was filled with hope and a sense of new beginnings. It was just my 6-year-old daughter, Lily, and I.

The exterior of a house | Source: Unsplash

The exterior of a house | Source: Unsplash

We were finally starting over after a difficult year: me going through a tough divorce with Lily’s father, and Lily having to navigate life without her father living in the same house.

“It’s okay, Mom,” she said softly to me one night. “I don’t like how Dad always shouted at us.”

It was clear then that we needed to break free.

A young mother and daughter | Source: Midjourney

A young mother and daughter | Source: Midjourney

From the moment I met Mrs. Thompson, she reminded me of my own grandmother. There was this motherly warmth to her that made me feel like moving here was the right decision.

“I’m Hazel,” she said, walking up to our porch with a batch of freshly baked cookies. “I’m so glad you’re moving into the neighborhood. My house is that one.”

She pointed to the little house directly next to mine.

Freshly baked cookies | Source: Midjourney

Freshly baked cookies | Source: Midjourney

“And who is this little girl?” she asked, seeing Lily jump into a pile of leaves.

“This is Lily, my daughter,” I said, introducing the two. “We needed a new start.”

When our official moving day arrived, Mrs. Thompson insisted on coming over and helping me unpack.

Read the full story here.

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 Neighbor Didn’t Pay Me the $250 We Agreed on for Cleaning Her House — So I Gave Her a Fair Lesson

They say neighbors can either become friends or foes, but I never imagined mine would turn into both overnight. What started as a simple favor turned into a bitter feud and a twist that left us both reeling.

When my husband, Silas, walked out of our lives six years ago, I never imagined I’d be standing in my kitchen, scrubbing the same countertop for the third time, wondering how I’d become this version of myself.

I’m Prudence, 48, a mother of two, trying to make ends meet while working remotely for a call center. Life didn’t exactly turn out as I’d hoped.

Silas and I used to talk about our dreams, you know? The kind of life we wanted to build together. But somewhere along the way, those dreams shattered, leaving me to pick up the pieces alone.

He walked out one evening, saying he needed “space to find himself,” leaving me with our then eight-year-old son Damien and just a few months old daughter Connie. I guess he found more than space because he never came back.

“Mom, can I have some cereal?” Connie’s small voice pulled me out of my thoughts. Her wide brown eyes, so full of innocence, stared up at me from the kitchen table.

“Sure, honey. Just give me a second.” I forced a smile, grabbing the cereal box from the top shelf.

Damien, now 14, shuffled into the kitchen, earbuds plugged in as usual. He barely looked up from his phone. “I’m heading out to meet up with Jake, okay?” he mumbled.

“Don’t stay out too late. And remember, homework first when you get back,” I called after him as he stormed out the door, not waiting for my reply.

It was just another day in the life I’d been patching together since Silas left. Balancing the responsibilities of raising two kids alone while trying to keep a roof over our heads wasn’t easy.

My work at the call center helped, but it wasn’t exactly my dream job. It was a job, though, and in times like these, that’s all that mattered.

That’s when Emery, the new neighbor in her early 30s, knocked on my door. I opened it to see her, eyes red-rimmed, looking like she hadn’t slept in days.

“Hey, Prudence, can I ask you for a huge favor?” she said, her voice cracking slightly.

I nodded, stepping aside to let her in. “Sure, Emery. What’s going on?”

She sighed, sinking into the couch like she was about to collapse. “I had this crazy party last night, and then I got called out of town for work. The place is a disaster, and I don’t have time to clean it up. Could you, um, help me out? I’ll pay you, of course.”

I hesitated, glancing at the clock. My shift was due to start in a couple of hours, but the idea of earning some extra cash was tempting. Lord knows we could use it.

“How much are we talking about?” I asked, folding my arms across my chest.

“Two hundred and fifty dollars,” she said quickly. “I just really need the help, Prudence. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t an emergency.”

“Alright,” I agreed after a moment. “I’ll do it.”

“Thank you so much! You’re a lifesaver!” Emery hugged me quickly before rushing out, leaving me to wonder what I’d just signed up for.

Emery’s house was a wreck, and that’s putting it mildly. It looked like a tornado had blown through it, with empty bottles, plates with half-eaten food, and trash strewn everywhere.

I stood in the middle of her living room, hands on my hips, trying to figure out where to even begin.

Two days. It took me two solid days of scrubbing, sweeping, and hauling garbage out of that house. By the time I was done, my back ached, and my hands were raw. But I kept reminding myself of that $250 Emery promised. That money would go a long way for us.

When Emery finally got back, I marched over to her place, ready to collect.

“Emery, it’s done. Your house is spotless,” I said, trying to keep the exhaustion out of my voice. “So, about the payment…”

She blinked at me like I was speaking another language. “Payment? What payment?”

I frowned, my heart sinking a little. “The $250 you promised for cleaning up your house. Remember?”

Emery’s expression shifted into one of confusion, then annoyance. “Prudence, I never agreed to pay you anything. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

For a moment, I just stood there, dumbfounded. “You… what? You said you’d pay me! We had an agreement.”

“No, we didn’t,” she snapped. “Look, I’m late for work, and I really don’t have time for this.” She pushed past me, heading towards her car.

“Emery, this isn’t right!” I called after her, but she was already backing out of her driveway, not giving me a second glance.

As I watched Emery’s car disappear down the street, I stood there, fuming. How could she just walk away like that?

Two days of back-breaking work, and she had the nerve to pretend like we never made a deal. I could feel my anger bubbling up, but I knew better than to act on impulse.

I went back to my house, slammed the door behind me, and paced the living room, trying to think. Connie was playing with her dolls on the floor, and Damien was still out with his friends. I didn’t want to drag my kids into this mess, but I also wasn’t about to let Emery get away with it.

“Alright, Prudence, you’ve got to be smart about this,” I muttered to myself. I looked out the window at Emery’s house and an idea started to form in my mind. It was risky, but I was beyond caring at that point. If she wanted to play dirty, I could get down in the mud too.

Twenty minutes later, I was at the local garbage dump, pulling on a pair of old gloves I kept in the car. I wasn’t proud of what I was about to do, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

I loaded up my trunk with as many garbage bags as I could fit, the stench nearly making me gag. But I gritted my teeth and kept going.

On the drive back, I kept replaying our conversation in my head, her dismissive tone, her refusal to acknowledge what she’d promised. The more I thought about it, the more justified I felt.

She didn’t even have the decency to respect the hard work I’d put into cleaning her filthy house. Well, she was about to see just how dirty things could get.

When I pulled up in front of Emery’s house, the street was quiet. No one was around to see me pop the trunk and start hauling the garbage bags to her front door. My heart pounded in my chest, adrenaline coursing through me as I worked quickly.

It was then I realized something: Emery had forgotten to take her house key back from me. She was in such a hurry when she left, she didn’t even think about it.

I hesitated for a moment. But then I thought of the look on her face when she told me there was no agreement, the way she dismissed me like I was nothing. I wasn’t going to let her get away with it.

I unlocked the door and stepped inside. The house was still spotless, just as I’d left it, but that was about to change. One by one, I tore open the garbage bags, dumping the contents all over her floors, her counters, and even her bed. Rotten food, old newspapers, dirty diapers: everything mixed in a disgusting heap.

“This is what you get, Emery,” I muttered under my breath as I emptied the last bag. “You wanted to play games, well, game on.”

I closed the door behind me, making sure to lock it, and slipped the key under her welcome mat. As I walked back to my car, I felt a strange surge of satisfaction and guilt. But I shook it off. Emery had brought this on herself.

That evening, just as I was putting Connie to bed, I heard furious banging on my front door. I knew who it was before I even opened it.

“Prudence! What the hell did you do to my house?!” Emery screamed, her face red with anger.

I crossed my arms and leaned against the doorframe, playing it cool. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Emery. How could I have gotten into your house? We never had any agreement, remember? So, I never had the keys to your house.”

She stared at me, speechless for a moment, before her face twisted in rage. “You—you’re lying! I’m calling the police! You’re going to pay for this!”

I shrugged, not breaking eye contact. “Go ahead and call them. But how are you going to explain how I got in? You can’t because according to you, I never had the key.”

Emery opened her mouth to argue, but no words came out. She looked like she was about to explode, but all she could do was turn on her heel and storm off, muttering something under her breath.

I watched her go, my heart still pounding, but this time it wasn’t just from anger. There was a sense of justice, of balance restored.

I didn’t know if she’d call the police, but I wasn’t worried. Emery had learned a valuable lesson that day: don’t mess with Prudence.

As I closed the door, I let out a long breath, feeling a weight lift off my shoulders. I knew I’d crossed a line, but in that moment, it felt like the only way to make things right.

Sometimes, you have to stand up for yourself, even if it means getting your hands dirty. And as for Emery? Well, I had a feeling she wouldn’t be asking me for any more favors anytime soon.

Do you think I handled things well? What would you have done differently in my place?

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