Chapter 3: Stripping the Crown

Chapter 3: Stripping the Crown

The blinking light on the switchboard for Room 1201 was a beacon of impending justice. As it finally went dark, signaling the end of the call, a palpable sense of victory settled over the small group in the manager’s office. Marcus let out a long, shaky breath, looking at Leo with a newfound reverence. Chloe and Mia, their tears long dried, exchanged a look of pure, unadulterated relief. The tyrant was being dealt with.

“She’s probably reading him the riot act right now,” Marcus said, a note of satisfaction in his voice. “He’ll be lucky to have a job tomorrow.”

Leo nodded, but his expression remained one of intense, focused calm. “That was his manager’s part. That was the official, by-the-book response to an employee conduct violation.” He stepped out from behind the desk, his presence filling the space. “But Mr. Harrison didn’t just violate the employee Code of Conduct. He committed fraud against the rewards program. And that,” he said, his eyes darkening slightly, “is a different department entirely. One with much sharper teeth.”

Before Marcus could process this, Leo was already seated back at the front desk terminal, his posture radiating a lethal competence. He pulled up a new screen, a direct portal to the corporate intranet that few supervisors even knew existed. The girls watched, fascinated, as his fingers moved with an economy and speed that was almost hypnotic. He wasn't typing; he was orchestrating.

He put on a headset, the slim microphone curving towards his lips. “Computer, dial Corporate Loyalty and Security.”

The automated system on the other end began its monotonous litany. "Thank you for calling the Celestial Rewards Program. For English, press one. Para Español..."

Leo cut it off. “Operator override. Authorization Vance-Seven-Niner-Delta.”

The automated voice was instantly replaced by a human one. “This is Brenda in Loyalty Security. How can I help you, Agent Vance?” The use of ‘Agent’ was a professional courtesy for high-level system supervisors, a title Leo had earned through years of meticulously flagging and reporting fraudulent accounts.

“Afternoon, Brenda,” Leo said, his voice smooth as polished stone. “I need to flag a potential system vulnerability and a case of benefits fraud. I’m sending you the account details now. Guest name is Richard Harrison, Celestial Rewards number ending in 8814.”

On his screen, he was already attaching a digital file containing screenshots of Harrison’s reservation: the employee rate code glowing next to the Celestial Tier banner, a combination as contradictory as fire and water.

Marcus stood behind him, listening in stunned silence. This was a level of operational mastery he had never witnessed. Leo wasn't just a front desk supervisor; he was a master of the corporate machine, wielding its own complex rules like a weapon.

“Got it, Leo,” Brenda’s voice crackled through the headset. “Oh… wow. Yeah, that’s… that’s not good. He’s booked on the ‘Friends and Family’ rate but has his Celestial number attached. The system should have blocked that.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Leo replied coolly. “That’s the vulnerability. The fraud is that he’s not only accruing points he isn’t entitled to, but he has been leveraging his Celestial status—a status likely earned through dozens of similar fraudulent stays—to demand services and compensation far beyond the scope of his booking.”

He was careful, clinical. He didn't mention Harrison screaming at an eighteen-year-old girl or making xenophobic comments. Brenda from Loyalty Security didn't care about that. She cared about the integrity of her program. Leo was speaking her language.

“I see a note here that he’s already been comped a two-hundred-dollar food and beverage credit at your location,” Brenda said, her tone now laced with professional indignation.

“Correct,” Leo confirmed. “Under duress, to de-escalate a public disturbance in the lobby.”

“Unacceptable,” she muttered. “Okay, Leo. I’m freezing the account pending a full investigation. No more points can be accrued or redeemed. And based on this evidence… I think a full audit is warranted. I’ll flag his account history to cross-reference his employee travel dates with every stay that has earned him tier credits for the past five years.”

This was the masterstroke. Leo hadn’t just reported a single offense. He had triggered an avalanche that would bury Harrison’s entire history of entitlement. Every free drink, every undeserved upgrade, every point he had scammed from the system was now under a microscope.

“Thank you, Brenda. You’re a star, as always.”

“You find ‘em, Leo, we nail ‘em. Talk soon.”

The line went dead. Leo took off the headset and placed it gently on its cradle. The corporate machinery was now grinding away, slowly but inexorably, towards Harrison’s complete annihilation. But that was a long-term project. Leo was a man who also appreciated immediate results.

He turned his attention back to the hotel’s local property management system. Harrison’s profile was still on the screen, the golden Celestial Tier banner gleaming with unearned arrogance. It was a digital crown, a symbol of the status that gave him the power to terrorize people.

“It’s like you’re defusing a bomb with a keyboard,” Chloe whispered from behind him, her voice full of awe.

“Every system has a kill switch,” Leo murmured in response, his eyes fixed on the screen. “You just have to know where to find it.”

He navigated to the guest’s profile management tab. With a few keystrokes, he accessed an override menu. A stark dialogue box appeared on the screen: MANUALLY ADJUST GUEST LOYALTY STATUS? (LOCAL PROPERTY ONLY).

Marcus’s breath hitched. “Leo, are you sure? If corporate sees a manual override on a Celestial account…”

“Corporate is already investigating him for systemic fraud,” Leo cut him off calmly. “By the time they finish their audit, this little adjustment will be the least of his worries. We are simply bringing his local profile into compliance with company policy, effective immediately.”

His finger hovered over the mouse. He looked back at Mia, who was watching him with wide, hopeful eyes. He gave her a small, reassuring nod.

Then he clicked.

He selected the dropdown menu next to Harrison’s name. He scrolled past ‘Celestial Tier,’ past ‘Platinum,’ past ‘Gold,’ past ‘Silver.’ He went all the way to the bottom, to the default, the baseline, the absolute zero.

Standard Guest.

He clicked again.

On the screen, the golden banner, the proud digital crest that Harrison had wielded like a scepter, flickered and vanished. In its place was nothing. A blank space. The system no longer recognized him as royalty. He was a commoner. A nobody.

A slow, dawning grin spread across Marcus’s face. “You’re a menace, Leo. An absolute menace.”

“I’m just a stickler for the rules,” Leo replied, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. He began typing notes into the account, his fingers a blur. "Guest status adjusted locally to reflect ineligibility for benefits while on RATE_EMP_FRIENDS. All complimentary amenities associated with Celestial Tier—including Executive Lounge access, complimentary breakfast, late check-out, and room upgrades—are hereby revoked. All charges to be billed at standard menu price."

He saved the changes. The deed was done.

Upstairs, in Room 1201, Richard Harrison was likely still reeling from the phone call with his General Manager. He was probably furious, humiliated, and plotting his revenge. But he was operating under one massive, fatal assumption: that he was still the king. He had no idea that while he was being reprimanded, his crown had been melted down, his title stripped away, and his entire kingdom dissolved right out from under him. He was a king with no subjects, no power, and no privileges. And he was about to find that out the hard way.