There was also a young woman behind Felix's parents. Her hair was dyed blonde, and a cigarette was dangling from her lips.

"Look, Mom, Dad. Don't you think this is an apartment big enough for everyone? It's got a wonderful view of the lake too, and everything is furnished with designer brands and renovations. I worked really hard to make this all possible!"

Felix's smug voice came in through the surveillance video.

His mother, Iris Osborn, immediately pounced on the leather couch, stomping all over it with her outdoor shoes still on.

"This is great! You're such a capable son, Felix! You're a hundred times better than old Sam's useless son next door!"

Meanwhile, his father, Alex Madden, clicked his tongue in amazement while smoking a cigarette. "This apartment is really something, and the lakeview is beautiful. It's better than seeing it on TV. This was a good purchase, son! Your mom and I will be coming here often next time to enjoy the view!"

As for Felix's younger sister, Fiona Madden, she rushed straight into my study, ripped off the precious contemporary painting hanging on my wall, and threw it onto the floor.

"This is rubbish! You know that I don't like pretentious junk like that! You'd better turn this room into my gaming room the next time I come here! I want all the latest gaming equipment!"

Then, she pulled open all of my drawers and shelves and smashed all of my treasured rare books and personal laptop onto the floor.

Felix just stood to the side without stopping her. He even chuckled and said, "Go ahead and trash anything you don't like. I'm going to replace them all with better ones next time anyway. This trash doesn't all amount to much."

I stared at the surveillance video on my phone, gripping it so hard that my knuckles turned white.

I had spent more than 100,000 dollars on that contemporary painting, and the laptop that she'd smashed contained classified information on the company's core project. Everything they threw carelessly to the floor was equivalent to years and years of my hard work.

I trembled with anger, wanting nothing more than to rush back home and tear their faces apart. However, I couldn't figure out how they'd managed to get their hands on my address or my front door passcode.

I had deliberately come up with a unique passcode for that door, combining both Mom's and Dad's birthdays and the anniversary of my first day of work in the IT industry. It was highly personal and extremely private, and I'd only ever mentioned it to Mom, Dad, and my younger sister, Carrie Aguilar.

Nobody at the office could have possibly found out about it, let alone an intern who had barely worked there for three months and whose interactions with me were only work-related.

Just then, I heard footsteps behind me.

"Carl? Why aren't you resting? Why are you glaring at your phone like it did something bad to you? What happened?"

I turned around and saw Mom coming up to me with a warm glass of milk, looking at me with worry and gentle concern.

She handed me the glass of milk and patted me lightly on the shoulder.

"You finally got a break from work to come home, and you even drove all day to be here. Why the long face? Is someone bullying you at work?"

I held the warm glass tightly in my hands and felt my nose tingle. I felt the anger in me subside at once.

"It's nothing. It's just something minor about work, but it's not worth getting angry over. It's been a while since I've been home, and I'm not going to let anything upsetting ruin my mood."

Then, I slid my phone back onto the coffee table, completely ignoring the distressing footage on the screen.

I would just swallow my anger for now and spend this Thanksgiving weekend peacefully with Mom.

Didn't Felix want to show off and enjoy his life in my luxury apartment for free? Well, I would let him be smug and gloat about it for a few days, then. And then, I would teach him a lesson for his arrogance!

I inhaled deeply and texted my building management.

"Keep an eye on them. And send me a copy of the security footage from the hallway, the entrance, and the elevators. But don't interfere with whatever they're doing in my apartment, and report any issues to me immediately."

Less than an hour later, I saw that Felix had just posted a few photos on his Instagram account.

He'd posted a total of nine photos, all of them taken from my apartment—the floor-to-ceiling windows with the lake view, the master bedroom, the walk-in closet, and the bookshelves in my study. Yet, he neatly avoided showing any of my personal belongings in each photo.

The caption read, "Financial independence in my early 20s has never felt better. I love enjoying my comfortable and carefree Thanksgiving weekend at home by myself."

Felix's post attracted plenty of comments from his friends.

"What? This is amazing! You bought such a massive apartment right after graduation?"

"What a winner in life! I'm so jealous of you!"

Even our colleagues at the company left comments under his post, and Felix made sure to reply to every single one of them, pretending to be humble while bragging even more.

"It's really nothing. I just saved up enough with tons of overtime work, having a passive side income, and slowly saving up over time. Let's all continue working hard!"

He never once mentioned that the apartment actually belonged to me.

Anger burned in my chest. However, I forced myself to keep calm. I knew that I couldn't afford to make any rash decisions at this time.

If I called him now and demanded an explanation for all this or kicked them out of my place, he would at most just feel a little embarrassed, and that was about it. Maybe he just had to pay a few thousand bucks for all the damages caused.

But he could definitely and easily play the victim afterward and act aggrieved online, claiming that he was simply confused and had no idea he was doing anything wrong. In fact, he could even turn the tide against me and accuse me of being selfish.

For all I knew, he could say, "I'm only just borrowing your place to stay in for a few days! Why are you being so petty and selfish, you stingy bastard?"

And then, he could always go back to the office and put on his innocent act at work, gaining sympathy from the colleagues as he badmouthed me at the company and claimed that I was a heartless person who picked on interns.

That would be going too easy on him.

I just silently took screenshots of everything, including his Instagram posts, stories, comments and replies, surveillance footage, and chat history, then filed them away under a special folder. I even recorded his exact words when he asked to stay at my place and mine when I refused, and stored them away on my phone.

The evidence was sufficient.

However, I never expected that Felix would completely disregard the consequences of his actions and allow his family members to continue escalating their horrible behavior.

That very night, his mother turned my expensive custom-made kitchen cabinets into her storage space. She stuffed them full of pickle jars and old lunchboxes, leaving the shelves all covered in grease.

She also took out all of my imported fruits, seafood, and treasured liquor from my refrigerator and left all the uneaten portions on the dining table to spoil and stink up the whole place.

Meanwhile, Felix's dad kept smoking in the living room, flicking the ashes and cigarette butts onto my pristine white wool carpet. He even smashed a ceramic teapot on my coffee table, muttering, "What kind of useless junk is this? It breaks as soon as you pick it up."

His sister was even more outrageous. She barged into my master bedroom, found my safe under my bedframe, and ransacked the cash and jewelry box inside.

She stuffed her pockets full of jewelry and even took out all my expensive skincare products from my dressing table and smashed the glass jars and bottles all over the floor.

When Felix found out about this, instead of scolding her, he went up to her, picked out a diamond necklace, put it around his neck, and took a selfie of himself in the mirror. Then, he posted it on his Instagram story.

"Gotta dress up elegantly even when I'm just staying home all day. Nothing special going on…"

I watched them through the surveillance camera footage, my anger nearly reaching its peak and overwhelming my reason, but I still managed to hold back.

…

Over the next few days of the long Thanksgiving weekend, Felix and his family made themselves exceptionally comfortable and at home in my apartment. They spent their days cooking and chatting at home and even went out to visit scenic tourist spots at times before coming home to relax in the spacious apartment.

His parents bragged to everyone that Felix had bought a big apartment in the city, and his sister boasted to her friends about his booming career and how he owned a luxurious lakeview apartment at such a young age.

On the fourth night, the property manager messaged me, saying that Felix had brought several of his friends over for a party, with a total of seven or eight people.

They sang loudly, drank their hearts out, and played drinking games loudly and aggressively in the living room, making a complete mess out of the place.

Even worse, they had a barbecue on my balcony, and the aggressive smoke drew plenty of complaints from my neighbors. Some of my neighbors actually came to my door, but they were all rudely chased away.

I tapped into the surveillance footage again and saw my living room in a royal mess, with liquor bottles, empty chip bags, and soiled paper napkins strewn all over the place. There were also stains and scuffs everywhere.

Several young people sat around the barbecue grill they had set up on my balcony, grilling meat while being exceptionally loud and noisy, filling the air around them with thick smoke and not caring that the sparks from the fire were flying onto the carpet on the balcony.

Felix was standing in the middle of the group, wearing my designer jacket as he laughed and chatted merrily with a wine glass in his hand.

Felix's friends kept looking around, constantly praising him for how nice and big the apartment was, which only made him feel even more smug as his ego and confidence ballooned.

I watched them through the footage. All of my anger subsided and was now replaced with a profound sense of calmness. I just downloaded the surveillance footage and sent it to my lawyer, Elliot Collins.

…

On the fifth day, which was also the last day of the Thanksgiving weekend break, Felix and his family finally packed up to leave.

The surveillance footage showed that they had begun packing up their things at around 9:00 am that day. They didn't bother clearing up the rubbish in the living room or cleaning the stains in the rooms. They only focused on packing up their own things.

While packing up, Felix's mom said to him, "This is such a nice and comfortable place to live in, Felix. I really don't want to leave after just a few days here.

"You must work harder next time and buy another place just like this for Fiona too! Then we'll all finally be able to live comfortably for the rest of our lives."

Felix smiled and said, "Don't worry, Mom. I'll continue working hard. Next time, I won't just buy a bigger place for you, but I'll also upgrade everything you own so that you'll have a better quality of life."

Fiona piped up and said, "That's right, Felix! I'm going to stick to you next time! You can't ever get rid of me!"

After they were done packing up, they brought all their bags and suitcases to the door. Felix keyed in the passcode he had learned by heart to open it, but to his shock, the passcode was now incorrect.

"Beep!"

A loud, piercing beep filled the air, followed by a red blinking light indicating that the wrong passcode had been keyed in.

Felix frowned, thinking that he'd made a mistake, and keyed in the passcode once again. However, the lock still beeped loudly, and the red light continued blinking.

"What's this? Why doesn't the passcode work anymore?" his mom asked.

Felix tried again a few more times, but each time, the door lock refused to open. It continued beeping and flashing red. The massive door just refused to budge.

"That's impossible… I remember that this was definitely the correct passcode… How could I be wrong?"

Felix was beginning to panic, and his fingers were also trembling now.

Fiona lost her patience and marched up to the door instead, shoving him aside. "What the hell are you doing? Can't you even properly key in a stupid passcode? I'll do it!"

She then tried a couple more times and then started kicking violently at the door. "What the hell? What's with this stupid lock? How dare you defy me?"

"Wait, stop kicking the door. What if you break it?" Felix said in panic, his eyes starting to lose focus as they darted around.

His mother looked confused. "It's your place, isn't it? So what if the door breaks? Just replace it, then. If you ask me, I think we should just break the door down. What kind of stupid door won't open with the correct passcode anyway?"

Fiona had always had a terrible temper, and the door was pushing her to the limits of her patience. She gave the door another good, hard kick and yelled, "You fucking piece of shit! Open the damn door for us! We still need to catch a train back home!"

Felix was panicking, and his palms were turning clammy. He gritted his teeth and said, "Maybe there's something wrong with the system. It sometimes loses signal like that. I'll just call the building management and get them to open the door for us."

He hurriedly pulled out his phone, clearly flustered. But before he could dial the building management's number, there was a steady knock on the other side of the door.

Three, in fact.

The knocks weren't particularly heavy, but they carried a serious tone.

Felix was startled. He asked instinctively, "Who is it?"

A clear, authoritative voice then came from the outside.

"We're the police. Kindly open the door and cooperate with our investigations."