Brian was up before the sun. His back ached from sleeping on the floor. Cecilia had taken his bed away last week. Said it was too "soft for a freeloader."
He washed quickly, changed into his plain shirt and old jeans, then stepped out to start cleaning the yard.
As he swept fallen leaves from the porch, Lisa walked out. She was dressed in a tight red dress and heels that clicked like power. She stopped right beside him, not even looking at his face.
"Clean this place properly. We're having a photo shoot today," she said coldly.
Then she glanced at her watch and added, "And don't be seen in the background. You'll ruin the pictures."
Brian said nothing. Just nodded and kept sweeping.
Jason came out next, wearing sunglasses and holding a branded coffee cup. He wrapped an arm around Lisa's waist.
"You ready, babe?" he asked.
Lisa leaned into him and kissed his cheek. "Always."
Brian looked away, heart burning. Every kiss they shared in front of him felt like a knife.
---
By noon, the camera crew arrived. Models, photographers, and assistants flooded the mansion's backyard. Everyone looked rich, young, and proud.
Brian stayed low. Sweeping, washing the glass walls, and moving quietly like he didn't exist.
Then it happened.
A scream.
"Where's my necklace?" One of the models cried out, her hands on her throat. "My diamond necklace is missing!"
Everyone stopped.
"Check the table again," Lisa said, walking over.
"It's not there! I put it in my purse, I swear!"
Jason frowned. "Did someone steal it?"
A sharp silence fell.
One of the assistants said, "It was here. I saw it. Just this morning."
Cecilia stepped out, arms crossed.
"What's going on?"
The model, nearly in tears, pointed at the table. "I put my necklace there before the shoot. Now it's gone!"
"Who's been near this area?" Jason asked.
Another voice said, "I saw that cleaner guy around here earlier."
All heads turned toward Brian.
He had just stepped out from the side, holding a trash bag.
Lisa's eyes narrowed. "Brian. Were you near this table?"
He froze. "I was cleaning—just the floor."
"Did you see a necklace?" Jason asked, crossing his arms.
Brian shook his head slowly. "No. I didn't touch anything."
Cecilia walked toward him. "Then let's check your pockets."
"What?" Brian blinked.
"You heard me."
"I didn't steal—"
"Then you shouldn't be afraid."
Before he could reply, two assistants grabbed his arms. Cecilia reached into his pockets—and pulled out a small velvet pouch.
The model gasped.
"That's it! That's my necklace!"
Brian's eyes went wide. "No! That's not mine! I swear—I didn't put it there!"
"Of course you didn't," Lisa said with a fake sad smile. "It just walked into your pocket, right?"
Brian looked at her. Something in her smile told him this was no accident.
She did this.
"I'm calling the police," Jason said, pulling out his phone.
"No!" Brian shouted. "Please—listen to me! Someone planted it—maybe they dropped it in—"
"Enough," Cecilia said sharply. "You're done. I knew keeping you here was a mistake."
"You're a thief," one of the models said.
"And a liar," someone else muttered.
"I'm not!" Brian cried. "I swear on my mother's grave—I would never steal!"
"Your mother's grave?" Lisa scoffed. "That same woman who begged my mom to let you stay here? She's probably ashamed of you."
That broke him.
Brian's knees hit the floor. "Please don't do this. I didn't take anything. I've cleaned this house for years—never touched a single thing!"
But no one cared.
The police arrived ten minutes later.
---
They didn't arrest Brian. Not because they believed him—but because the model decided not to press charges. Said she didn't want drama.
But the damage was done.
The neighbors heard. The camera crew told everyone. Rumors spread.
"Brian the thief."
"Brian the beggar."
"Brian, the useless husband."
By evening, Cecilia handed him a large garbage bag full of his clothes.
"You're leaving tonight," she said coldly.
"Where will I go?"
"Not my problem."
"But... I'm still married to Lisa..."
Lisa walked in, sipping juice. "Not for long."
"Please..." he whispered. "I didn't take anything."
Jason walked by, grinning. "Maybe you'll find a job at a pawn shop. You seem to like shiny things."
Brian looked down.
No more words left.
---
That night, he sat on a park bench with the plastic bag of clothes beside him. People passed by—no one stopped.
He had nowhere to sleep. No money. No friends.
He opened his wallet.
Empty.
Just the photo of his mother. Her smile felt distant now.
Tears filled his eyes.
Then a voice spoke.
"You still have that look."
Brian turned. An old man stood nearby, holding a bag of bread.
"What look?" Brian asked, wiping his face.
"The look of a man who's been kicked by the world... but hasn't given up."
Brian forced a small smile. "I don't even know how to keep going."
The man sat beside him.
"Sometimes the world breaks you before it blesses you. Don't give up yet."
Brian stared at him. "Do I know you?"
The man just smiled.
Then he got up, dropped a small card into Brian's lap, and walked away.
Brian looked down.
It was a business card.
> "E. Delgado - IronCore Industries. Warehouse Division.
Show this card at the side gate. Midnight only."
Brian blinked. IronCore? That was one of the biggest companies in the city.
He looked up.
The old man was gone.
Just like the night before... when the anonymous card had appeared.
Was someone watching over him?
He didn't know.
But for the first time that day...
He stood up.