He Doubled My Rent,So I Moved My Empire and Watched Him Beg

After graduation I stayed down South and started my own company. It grew from three people to more than eight hundred.

This year we landed a big contract. Everyone had ground through three straight months to get it done, so I made the call and gave every single employee a thousand-dollar raise.

The day after the raise notice went out, the landlord called.

"Maddie," he said. "Rent's going up a hundred grand a month starting next month. Get ready for it."

I froze. Five years ago this had been empty lots, cheap to rent, which was exactly why I'd planted the company here.

In those five years the company had scaled up step by step, and the rent had gone up no fewer than ten times.

Every time, I'd gritted my teeth and paid it, telling myself family was family, that I owed him the courtesy, that at least my people wouldn't have to deal with a move.

But this time. I kept the anger down and tried to reason with him.

"Rents all over this area are dropping. You know the market better than I do. A hundred grand a month makes no sense."

"Market's bad, huh? You hand out a thousand a head to eight hundred-plus employees, but when it comes to me suddenly you can't spare it?"

He gave a cold little laugh. "Don't like the price, move out. My spot's hot property now. All the amenities have gone up around here. Who needs you?"

I looked at how certain he was that I'd cave, and all at once I went calm.

"Fine. We'll move."

I hung up, looked out the window at this whole business district, and laughed under my breath. Ninety percent of the foot traffic here rode on the backs of my employees.

Soon enough he'd learn who really couldn't do without whom around here.

...

My assistant, Ramona James, works fast. Less than three minutes after the notice went out, the company group chat blew up.

A hundred messages piled in at once.

"What does this mean? How can we just move, out of nowhere?"

"Ms. Rowe, is something wrong with the company? Cash flow trouble?"

An old-timer wrote, "Ms. Rowe, this is where we got our start. I'm attached to this place..."

The chat went quiet for two seconds, then instantly flooded with people chiming in.

"Right, my kid's school is right next door. If we move, what am I supposed to do..."

I stared at the screen for a long time, then typed:

"Nothing's wrong. Details to follow."

Word traveled faster than I expected.

By noon that day, the commercial street downstairs had blown up too.

First the guy who ran the fast-food place came rushing up, planting himself at the front desk and refusing to leave, tugging at Ramona.

"Are you really moving? I heard about it. Is it true?"

Ramona said a few soothing words and got him out the door.

Right after that Max Lawrence, from the convenience store, messaged me directly:

"Ms. Rowe, I hear you're moving? Then what happens to us? I just restocked..."

Then the coffee shop, and even the owner of the noodle place I'd once helped out, all worked their way around to asking me through other people.

Word reached the merchants' group chat.

It's a chat I almost never post in, several hundred people, every business owner in the area in there.

At three in the afternoon, someone tagged me directly:

"Ms. Rowe, hear you're moving? What's going on, give us a straight answer."

I looked at the message, thought about it, and replied, "The landlord's hiking the rent. Can't afford it anymore."

The chat boiled over instantly.

"How much?"

"A hundred grand. A month."

"A hundred grand?! Has Dirk Dickerson lost his mind?"

"No way this location is worth that. Look how many office buildings around here are sitting empty..."

The merchants piled on the landlord all at once. Watching the screen, I felt something in my chest ease a little.

Then Dirk spoke up.

"What are you all so worked up about?"

"Madison Rowe hands out a thousand a head to eight hundred-plus employees, that's over eight hundred grand extra in payroll a month, but she can't spare me a hundred grand. You tell me who's out of line here?"

The chat went quiet for a beat.

Then he added another line: "Prices are going up on everything these days. You people ought to raise yours too."

After the silence, the wind changed direction.

Someone piped up, echoing him:

"That's right, Ms. Rowe. Your company's huge. A hundred grand is just a word from you, isn't it? Why put your staff through all that hassle of moving?"

"We're small-time here. If you go, what are the rest of us supposed to do"

"Ms. Rowe, why not calm down and try talking to the landlord again?"

I scrolled through them one by one, and the cold crept deeper into me.

Every one of those shops, I remembered.

The noodle place. Half a year ago it was one bad month from closing.

I had our admin team set up a group and rotate people through to give feedback, and the place came back from the dead.

The convenience store. Those first months after it opened, no business at all.

I signed an agreement so the whole company's staff purchases ran through her. That was what kept her afloat.

The coffee shop. I put money into it.

And now they were tagging me in the chat: "Ms. Rowe, think bigger."

"Don't let a little money sour things between us."

I couldn't help a small laugh.

Really something.

Then a few messages popped up in my private chat.

It was the owner of the flower shop I always went to, sending a careful little emoji: "Ms. Rowe, are you okay?"

I looked at the message, the corner of my mouth tugging up, and dialed a number.

"Any new buildings on the agent's end? The faster the better."

When John James, the agent, sent over photos of the fifth listing, I set the phone down after one glance.

"Ms. Rowe, I've combed this whole area for you," John sighed on the line.

"Either the square footage's too small, or the rent's even more insane than what you're paying now."

"I'll be straight with you." He dropped his voice.

"Yesterday I went to see that building. The talks were going fine. Then this morning the other side suddenly says they want twenty percent more."

"I asked what was going on. They got vague, said something about listings being in short supply around here."

I said nothing.

"That building's vacancy rate just cracked forty percent last month. In short supply?"

John didn't answer, but I had a pretty good idea by then.

A man Dirk's age, and still this small.

Except his word did carry weight.

Over the next two days I switched tack and started looking at parks farther out, but it was much the same.

The moment they heard it was my company, the price floated up.

As if the whole city knew I was in a hurry to leave.

Leila Fox from HR knocked and came in, her face grim.

"Ms. Rowe, I've got a few things to report."

"The tech team lead, Julian Whitney. Solomon Finch from supply chain. And Carter Perry, the veteran on the sales team."

"They all submitted their intent to resign this morning."

I froze for a moment. Julian was one of the earliest people who'd started this with me.

Solomon we'd poached at a high salary last year. Carter had been here six years.

"They all wrote 'personal reasons,' but when we talked off the record," Leila paused.

"They all brought up the relocation. Said the company feels unstable lately"

"Some of them said the boss is dragging eight hundred-plus people through this just to spite the landlord, and they're afraid there'll be more of this kind of thing down the road."

I nodded, saying nothing.

Soon enough, a call came in from a client too.

Kevin Chavez. A client of three years, the new contract hammered out back at the start of the year, just short of the final signature.

"Ms. Rowe, I hear there's been some stir at your company lately? The staff are all saying you're moving?"

"There's a plan, yes."

"Oh well, the contract, there's no rush on our end. How about we watch and see for a while?"

I hung up and leaned back against my chair, my temples pounding.

"Ms. Rowe, I just ran the numbers."

Finance Manager Dickerson had come in too, and he handed the report across the desk.

"If we relocate before the end of the month, once you count the lost deposit, the renovation, and the moving company, the one-time outlay comes to about this. I want you braced for it."

I glanced at the figure.

He kept going. "That's nearly double the total of a full year's rent increase."

The office went quiet for a few seconds.

He picked his words carefully.

"So I wanted to run something by you. This pay raise plan of ours, should we hold off for now?"

"Make it up once things settle? If we explain it clearly, everyone should understand."

I didn't answer.

My phone lit up. A message from Dirk.

"Kid, I hear you've been out looking at buildings for days now. Found anything that suits you?"

"If you want my two cents, stop wearing yourself out. Hold out any longer and it won't be ten grand anymore."

There was a little grinning emoji stuck on the end.

I didn't reply. I looked at the two people in front of me.

"The raises go through as planned, not a dollar short, into everyone's account this month."

Frederick Dickerson opened his mouth to say something. I raised a hand and stopped him.

"And HR sends out a notice today."

"The new site will be somewhere more convenient than this one. The commute and the amenities will only get better, not worse. I want everyone at ease about that."

"As for anyone who wants to leave, I won't force them to stay. Full severance, whatever they're owed. We do right by them."

Leila blinked, then nodded. "Understood."

The two of them exchanged a look, and neither pushed it any further.

Once they'd gone, I sent Ramona a message.

"No need to keep looking. That building you mentioned last time. Take me there tomorrow."

Early the next morning, I'd barely reached the office when I saw three people sitting on the couch.

Dirk, and my parents.

Dirk sat dead center, one leg crossed over the other, a done-deal smile on his face.

The second my mother saw me she was on her feet, grabbing my hand.

"Maddie, Uncle Dirk says you're moving? Everything's fine where you are, why move? You've been just fine here all these years."

My father stayed where he was on the couch, his face dark, and only cut me a look.

"Mom, what are you all doing here?"

"Uncle Dirk called us," she said, dropping her voice.

"Said you were throwing a fit at him over money, so of course I came straight over to see."

"Maddie, Uncle Dirk is family too, he's your uncle. Back when you first came here to start the company, he rented you the place cheap. Have you forgotten?"

I looked at Dirk.

He smiled at me and said nothing.

"Mom." I kept my tone as even as I could.

"He rented it to me cheap back then. I don't deny it. But in five years he's raised the rent more than ten times, and I paid every one of them in full."

"Rents everywhere around here are dropping now, and he's hiking mine ten grand a month. It's not that I won't pay. It's that it's not reasonable."

"What's ten grand?" My father spoke up suddenly.

"You've got a company of more than eight hundred people now. You can't cover a little money like that?"

"It's not that I can't cover it. It's that I can't cover it like this."

"What do you mean, can't?" My father slapped the coffee table.

"When Uncle Dirk helped us back then, why didn't you say no? Now that your wings have grown you won't even honor a little kindness?"

Dirk chimed in right on cue. "Zion Rowe, don't be angry, she's just a kid."

"Runs a company for a few years and thinks she's something. It's understandable."

He said understandable, but the sneer was practically spilling out of his voice.

My mother tugged at me quickly. "Maddie, just take this one piece of advice."

"It's only ten grand. You've been so obedient all these years, why now would you"

"Mom, it's not that I won't listen."

"So you're doing this on purpose!" My father shot to his feet.

"Your brother wants to come work at your company and you won't let him. We let that go."

"You've been in business all these years. What has this family ever gotten out of you?"

"And now you can't even bend on a little rent for an elder. Is there any room in your heart for this family at all?"

I took a deep breath.

"If Joseph joins the company, is he even qualified? What exactly would he do there?"

"The money I've given this family all these years," I said, looking straight at my father.

"Joseph's wedding gift money came from me. His down payment came from me."

"Your surgery bills, I paid every cent. Your living expenses every month, which dollar of it didn't come from my transfers?"

My father's face went red, and no words came out.

Beside him, Dirk let out a cold laugh.

"Well now, big brother, your girl really has grown some wings since she made her money. If I were you, I'd have slapped her a long time ago."

The air froze.

Then my father's hand came up fast.

I didn't even have time to turn my head before it cracked across my face.

My mother screamed and lunged to grab his arm. "Have you lost your mind!"

His hand hung in the air after the blow, his lips trembling.

A moment later his tone went soft. "Maddie... just say yes to Uncle Dirk..."

He didn't finish.

I didn't say anything. My face burned where he'd hit me.

Dirk played generous beside him. "All right, all right, I'll knock a little off your utilities."

"You've had an agent look at that lot on the south side, haven't you? You know exactly what kind of dump that place is."

"Just wire the rent over like a good girl and we'll pretend none of this happened. A girl shouldn't push so hard. It's not becoming."

I stared at him, and then I laughed.

"Uncle Dirk, you're calling the south side a wasteland?"

"Five years ago, when I moved into your building, this whole area was a wasteland too."

"How do you know the place I'm moving to won't turn out just like yours?"

Dirk's smile froze on his face.

He grunted, flung his sleeve, and pushed out the door.

My mother looked at me, then at my father, and in the end said nothing, tugging him along as they left.

The office went quiet.

I walked to the window and touched the side of my face where he'd struck me. It burned like fire.

Then I picked up my phone and dialed a number.

"I want that building. We sign this week."

Once word of the move got out, the company's last few days weren't peaceful.

Seven more people left.

By the time HR Manager Fox handed me the list, I didn't feel much of anything.

In the exit interviews they all kept their heads down and said, "Ms. Rowe, I'm sorry."

The clients, on the other hand, were busier than before.

A few more calls came in, and I returned each one.

I told them the move wouldn't affect our ongoing work, that the contracts we were meant to sign wouldn't fall through.

They heard me out and said little, but no one brought up signing again.

People online started talking too.

A local startup-scene account ran a piece.

The headline read: An 800-Person Company Uproots Itself Over a Hundred Grand in Rent Where's This Boss's Vision?

The comments were a wall of "small-minded," "short-sighted," "won't get far."

The move was set for Friday night. I had Ramona arrange the vehicles ahead of time.

The whole company was told to head straight to the buses after work, with the moving company handling the company's assets all at once.

At eleven Thursday night, I drove past that office building for the last time.

Five years ago, when we moved in, the building was new. The group photo of our first employees on the wall had long since yellowed.

The shops downstairs were all still lit, looking the same as always.

At six Friday evening, the staff carried their packed boxes down one after another.

I stood at the lobby doors, watching the buses lined up at the curb.

At some point Dirk had turned up, cigarette hanging from his lips, arms folded across his chest, looking at me the way you'd look at a spoiled child throwing a tantrum.

He wasn't quiet about it. "Moving out to the south side? Your Ms. Rowe sure knows how to pick a spot. You'll all come crawling back to me before long."

A couple of employees carrying boxes glanced at him. Nobody said anything.

Max passed me on his way out and murmured, "Ms. Rowe, don't mind him."

Dirk stood off to the side, watching the building empty out, and something uneasy flickered through him.

But then he remembered the message from last night, the one that guaranteed things, and the smug smile settled back onto his face.

By the time everything was loaded, the sky had gone dark. The last bus started its engine.

I stood downstairs and took one last look at the building, five stories of old office space, nearly every window black now.

Dirk was still standing there, contempt and disdain all over his face.

I turned and got on the bus.

The drive was quick.

When the doors opened, I heard someone in the front row let out a "Whoa."

Then more voices, one after another.

Ramona stood beside me, snapped a photo on her phone, and sent it to the company group chat.

Then she looked up at me, eyes shining. "Ms. Rowe... this is so much better than the old place."

I didn't say anything. I stood in front of the building for a moment.

Behind me the employees filed off the buses, and some already had their phones out, taking pictures of everything.

Someone posted a photo in the merchants' group chat.

Three seconds later, the chat blew up.

At six the next morning, Dirk got the first call.

"I'm not renewing."

Then they came one after another.

"Mr. Dickerson, a few of us talked it over. When our leases are up, we're all pulling out. There won't be anyone left in that district of yours."

Dirk tapped his phone awake. On the screen was a photo someone had sent him of the new building.

The phone slid out of his hand and cracked against the floor tile.

His face went white, his eyes full of disbelief.

He slumped to the floor, muttering, "Impossible... impossible..."