From Scorn to Sparkling; The son-in-law's Redemption.

CHAPTER FIVE: Rays of Light.

Roger throws a cup of leftover coffee on Romsey's shirt, it lands just on his face as he wipes it off, but before now his shirt has already become sullen from the pressure of being dragged.

"You can lick from that, man. I believe you're thirsty" he said scornfully.

Face your shame, man, next time you know how to be responsible," Roger retorts as they ignite the engine of a C-class Mercedes.

As he prepared to depart, three Golden Bugatti Veyrons pulled up, their sleek bodies gleaming in the sunlight, a stark contrast to the Mercedes. The Bugattis, each valued at several million dollars. Symbols of opulence and luxury, commanded attention with their price tags that showcased wealth and status. Everyone turned to the sound of their V8 engines.

"Look at the car I want you to get me for our wedding anniversary," Felicity exclaimed, pulling Roger's attention to the gleaming ride as if he hadn't already been admiring it.

Roger smiled at her playfulness, knowing it was far beyond his means. "You can say that again, baby," he chuckled, masking the sting of reality.

"Oh, and don't forget, tomorrow is my birthday," she added casually, turning to head towards the car.

Meanwhile, Romsey was still outside the hotel, cleaning up the area, he had forgotten to try the black card given to him earlier. As the cars drove in, the onlookers, who had been making fun of him, suddenly turned their attention to the luxurious vehicles, eager to capture the moment on their cameras.

"Hey, man, can you see what's rolling in here?" a guy on a white vest asked the other, his mouth opened with surprise.

Immediately, a security guard quickly got out of one of the cars, approached Romsey, took the parker from him, and respectfully greeted him.

Roger, who had just started the engine, turned it off and stepped out of the car, intrigued by the unfolding scene.

"What's going on?" a lady from one of the cars exclaimed, her face contorted with anger. She walked towards Romsey, her expensive shoes clacking on the ground, followed by seven guards.

Felicity, unable to believe what she was witnessing, was clouded by her preconceived notions about Romsey. "Can we go, babe?" she asked Roger.

"Why don't we wait and see what happens? Maybe these people are here to help him," Roger suggested, surprise evident in his voice.

"Help him? After all, he's done? He'd have to clean this place for a month to pay for his greed, a poor thing like Romsey, shouldn't be wasting our time," Felicity retorted, her words dripping with contempt.

********

As Felicity walked closer to the scene, Robson pushed through."Where the hell is your manager?" Robson's voice cut through the hotel lobby, sharp and demanding. He stepped forward, eyes scanning the room, his demeanor serious. The assistant manager, Tim, approached with a smile, adjusting his suit collar, confidence in his voice.

"I'm Tim, the assistant manager here. How can I assist you, sir?"

Robson's gaze was stern. "Are you aware of what happened here earlier?"

Before Tim could respond, a voice from the hallway interrupted, "Four hours ago, man!"

Robson turned towards the voice, then back to Tim. "What did you do about it?"

Tim explained, "The gentleman out there ate and attempted to leave without paying. Such behavior is unacceptable here. He had to face the music."

Eleanor, appearing from the crowd, delivered a resounding slap to Tim's face. He recoiled, his hand reaching to soothe the sting.

"How dare you be so indifferent and careless?" Eleanor's voice was sharp. "Who made you an assistant manager here?"

The action drew onlookers, everyone curious about the unfolding drama. Robson approached the reception desk where Eleanor stood, his presence commanding attention.

"Were you here yesterday?" His tone was stern.

"No, sir," the receptionist replied. "I tried to intervene, but they didn't listen, especially the head of meal control."

Eleanor accessed the hotel's system, typing "Romsey." Baron Romsey's details appeared on the screen: VIP category, all payments settled, lodge...

"Drag him to this screen," Eleanor ordered, and the guards promptly complied, bringing Tim to the desk.

"What do you see here?" Robson's voice was commanding. "I said, what do you see?"

Tim's demeanor changed, his knees weakening, and his face filled with remorse. "I'm sorry, sir. I didn't think, I wasn't careful. Please, forgive me." He turned to Romsey, his voice breaking. "Forgive me, sir. I swear, I won't do it again. I wasn't in a good mood when I arrived today."

Robson's annoyance grew. "Call the manager immediately!"

As Tim pleaded for forgiveness, the manager arrived, greeted by the crowd. She approached Romsey, who was sitting on a sofa, looking down, shaking his head.

"What's happening?" She inquired, turning to Eleanor. Her voice sounded curious, but Eleanor's reply was commanding, the provocation burning deep in her.

"Go to your office and bring these workers' files! They need to be fired immediately!" Eleanor's tone was firm.

The manager tried to calm the situation. "Why? Please, be calm, Ma." What happened, Tim?" she asked, turning to Tim.

As Tim began to explain, the manager's phone rang. Glancing at the screen, she realized it was Mike, Elong, the CEO.

"You've caused me a huge loss, I want you to ensure that those set of workers are sacked instantly!" Elong wasn't mincing words; his decision was final.

The manager hastily returned with the files. "I'm sorry, sir. We will handle this," she assured Romsey. Turning to Eleanor, she pleaded, "Please, everything is under control."

"Do you understand the implication now?" Eleanor's voice sliced through the air, firm and unwavering. "Do not delay for another minute, or face the consequences."

The manager's hands trembled as she responded, "No, Ma'am." She knew the CEO's order was clear: Tim was to be fired.

Tim, now on his knees, pleaded, his voice cracking with emotion, begging Romsey for forgiveness.

"What are you waiting for?" Robson's voice was sharp as he addressed the manager. The onlookers, previously filming the scene, began to jeer at Tim, who was now crawling on the floor, pleading first to Romsey and then to Eleanor.