My Landlord Stole My Restaurant,So I Let Him Fail

I took over a shop that had sat vacant for three years and turned it into a seafood buffet restaurant.

Business exploded. I cleared $2.8 million in my first year.

Then my landlord got jealous. He showed up with a greasy smile：

“Myron Dickerson, your place is packed every single day. That's all thanks to my shop's prime location and the seafood-loving crowd around here. Now that you're raking it in, you wouldn't mind splitting half the profits with me, right?”

I said no.

The smile vanished. His true colors came out fast：

“Then pack your things and get out today. I'm running this place myself!”

He tore up our lease on the spot, leased the shop next door, knocked through the wall to expand, and opened his own seafood buffet. Then he came to gloat：

“Myron, I'll be straight with you. I already tracked down your seafood supplier and paid a premium to become their exclusive distributor on this street. Even if you try to open another seafood buffet nearby, you won't be able to source a thing. So sit back and watch me count my money!”

I just smiled.

He clearly had no idea. The only reason I'd turned his dead-end shop into a daily sellout was that every one of those customers worked for my dad's company.

——

The moment Brendan James walked through my door, I knew it wasn't a social call.

In the entire year since I'd opened, he had come by exactly three times.

All three times, it was to raise the rent.

But I never expected him to go this far, to waltz in and demand half my profits outright.

I stared at him for a second, unable to believe what I'd just heard：

“Uncle Brendan, you're joking, right?”

“This place sat empty for three years without a single taker. I'm the one who bailed you out of your mortgage payments. You've already hiked the rent on me three times and I didn't say a word. And now you want half my profits?”

Brendan lifted his chin, completely unfazed：

“So what?”

“Your restaurant's only blowing up because of my shop's location. Giving me half is only fair.”

That was when his wife, Adela Lambert, strolled in behind him, her nose in the air：

“Exactly. This whole neighborhood is full of seafood lovers. You could tie a dog to the counter and it'd turn a profit. You got rich off our property, so handing over half is the least you can do.”

Watching the two of them tag-team me like this, I almost laughed at how absurd it was.

When I first signed the lease, this shop had been sitting empty for a full three years.

The street was part of a newly developed district where neither the commercial spaces nor the residential buildings had ever really taken off. Foot traffic was practically nonexistent. Every shop that had tried to make it here had gone under.

The day I sat down with the two of them to sign the contract, their hands were shaking：

“Myron, you have no idea. We had this place listed for three years and didn't get a single inquiry.”

“We're two old folks counting on this shop for our retirement. With no tenant, we've been eating the mortgage payments every month. It's been suffocating. You renting from us is literally saving our lives!”

“Don't you worry. The whole time you're leasing, we promise we won't raise the rent once. You can stay as long as you like!”

Hearing all that, I signed a three-year lease on the spot.

My dad's company was only half a mile down the street.

Over a thousand employees, and figuring out where to eat lunch every day had always been a headache.

When I heard they were all seafood fanatics, I figured I'd go all in and open a seafood buffet.

From day one, the place was packed. The lunch line from my dad's company stretched down the entire block.

Once Brendan and Adela saw that kind of traffic, the jealousy set in.

The first rent hike came in my second month of business.

They picked the busiest lunch rush on purpose to come find me with their demand.