Chapter 5: Account Not Found

Chapter 5: Account Not Found

The next morning, the Grand Sovereign Hotel was a different world. The oppressive tension had vanished, replaced by a quiet, professional energy that felt lighter and more genuine than it had in weeks. The story of Mr. Harrison’s fall from grace had circulated through the back-of-house channels with the speed of gossip and the weight of legend. The bartender, Frank, had reported that Harrison had quietly paid his exorbitant bar tab in full without a single word of protest. Maria’s housekeeping team had serviced his room with crisp, standard efficiency, ignoring the list of petulant demands he had left on his pillow. The tyrant had been neutered.

At the front desk, Leo stood beside Chloe, coaching her through a complex billing inquiry. There was a new confidence in her posture; she stood taller, her voice clear and steady. Mia, working at the adjacent terminal, handled a check-in with a warm, genuine smile that had been absent the day before. They were no longer timid newcomers, but budding professionals who had witnessed firsthand that the rules could be a shield, not just a cage.

Marcus Thorne emerged from his office, a coffee mug in hand. The frantic, hunted look he’d worn for the past twenty-four hours was gone. In its place was a deep, quiet respect. He looked at Leo, then at his two young agents, and a small, proud smile touched his lips.

“Any… developments?” Marcus asked, keeping his voice low.

Leo turned to his own terminal, his movements unhurried. “Let’s see.” He navigated to the Celestial Rewards portal, the same one he had used to contact Brenda in Loyalty Security. He typed in Richard Harrison’s name and rewards number.

The profile loaded instantly. Splashed across the top of the page, in a stark, unmissable digital banner of crimson, were two words: ACCOUNT SUSPENDED. All points were zeroed out. All upcoming reservations were flagged for review. All privileges were listed as ‘null’. It was a digital prison, a holding cell from which there was no easy escape.

“Suspended,” Leo said, a note of finality in his tone. “Brenda’s investigation is officially underway. He can’t earn, he can’t burn, he can’t redeem so much as a free bottle of water until they’re finished with him.”

Marcus let out a low whistle. “You didn’t just win the battle, Leo. You rewrote the rules of engagement. I’ve never seen anything like it.” He looked at Chloe and Mia, who were now listening intently. “You two should pay close attention to him. What he knows isn’t in any training manual.”

It was the highest praise Marcus could offer, an admission that true leadership wasn’t about title or position, but about knowledge and the courage to wield it.

A week passed. The memory of Richard Harrison began to fade, becoming less of a traumatic event and more of a cautionary tale, a story the veteran staff would tell new hires to illustrate a point. The hotel returned to its rhythm, but the beat was different. The staff walked with a little more purpose, a shared sense of victory uniting them. They had faced down a monster and, under Leo’s guidance, they had won.

One quiet afternoon, out of a lingering sense of curiosity, Leo decided to check on the status of Harrison’s account one last time. He sat at the terminal, the familiar click of the keys a soft percussion in the calm lobby. He brought up the loyalty portal, a place of power and judgment.

He typed in the name: Richard Harrison. He entered the rewards number: ******8814. He hit enter.

He expected to see the same crimson banner of suspension. He expected a long list of notes detailing the ongoing audit Brenda had promised. He expected a digital crime scene, cordoned off and under investigation.

The system returned a single, brutal line of red text:

ACCOUNT NOT FOUND.

It wasn't suspended. It wasn't frozen. It was gone. Erased. As if it had never existed. Five years of fraudulent stays, of undeserved points, of terrorizing staff across the country—all of it had been wiped from the corporate ledger with a single, definitive keystroke. This was not a suspension; this was an execution. The avalanche Leo had started in that cramped back office hadn't just buried Harrison; it had annihilated the very ground he stood on.

As if on cue, the phone at Marcus’s elbow rang. He picked it up, his conversation brief and punctuated by surprised affirmations. When he hung up, he looked across the desk at Leo, his eyes wide.

“That was Evelyn Reed,” he said, his voice hushed with astonishment. “The General Manager from the downtown Towers. She called to personally thank me again.”

“Oh?” Leo asked, feigning casual interest.

“She wanted to let me know that their internal investigation had concluded. Richard Harrison is no longer their Director of Sales.” Marcus paused, a grimly satisfied smile playing on his lips. “They found cause to demote him. Stripped him of his title and expense account. He’s been reassigned. He’s now the Assistant Front Desk Manager… at their 80-room property out by the airport.”

The irony was so thick it was almost poetic. The man who derived his life’s pleasure from screaming at front desk agents was now condemned to be one. He would be on the front lines, dealing with the tired, the angry, and the entitled, stripped of all the status he had used as a weapon. It was a fate worse than being fired; it was a prison crafted from his own sins.

The news was the final, satisfying conclusion to the saga. The monster was truly vanquished, not just from their hotel, but from the position of power he had so gleefully abused.

Later that day, a guest with a mid-tier rewards status approached the desk, beginning a complaint about the view from his room in a loud, demanding voice. Before Leo or Marcus could intervene, Mia stepped forward.

“Sir, I understand your frustration,” she said, her voice polite but firm, echoing the calm authority she had learned from Leo. “However, as per the booking terms for your specific rate, room location is assigned based on availability at check-in and is not guaranteed. I would be happy to see if we have any other rooms in the same category, but a view-based upgrade would require a rate adjustment.”

The man, taken aback by her confident and factual response, sputtered for a moment before his bluster deflated. “Oh. Fine. Never mind.” He took his key and walked away, defeated not by a manager, but by a young woman who knew the rules and was no longer afraid to state them.

Leo watched the exchange, a rare, genuine smile touching his lips. He hadn't just taken down one bully. He had armed his entire team against all the ones to come. He had changed the culture of his workplace, transforming fear into empowerment, one carefully weaponized subsection at a time. He was Leo Vance, the unassuming guardian of the front desk, and in his kingdom, the rules were sacred, and the tyrants never, ever won.