They Thought I Was A Janitor, Until I Refinanced The Skyscraper And Evicted Them

"Harassment?" Marcus laughed, though it sounded shrill. "I never harassed you. I disciplined an incompetent employee! You have no proof!"

Elena smiled. It wasn't a nice smile. It was the smile of someone who had spent months invisible, watching, listening, and gathering evidence gathering for a workplace harassment lawsuit.

"I'm the janitor, Marcus. I have keys to every room. Including the security server room."

She clicked the remote again. The bank document on the giant screen disappeared. In its place, gritty, black-and-white footage began to play.

First, the clip of Marcus kicking over her bucket. Then, him throwing a sandwich at her head. Then, the assault in the penthouse from last night—him grabbing her hair, throwing her into the table.

A gasp rippled through the audience. But the video didn't stop there. It cycled through other tenants—the CEO on the 4th floor spitting on the floor she just mopped, the VP on the 10th calling her slurs.

The tenants who bullied her go silent, realizing they are also on the tapes.