For the fifth time this month, a delivery driver knocked on my door looking for an order that wasn't mine.

Fed up, I taped a note outside: "I never order takeout. Whoever keeps using my address for pranks deserves a lifetime of bad luck."

A few minutes later, someone knocked again.

I yanked open the door and snapped, "I didn't order anything! Can you please check the address before bothering me?"

The driver scratched his head, looking confused. "That's strange... I always deliver to this address."

Not wanting to argue, I slammed the door shut.

Moments later, violent pounding erupted from outside.

Furious, I flung the door open, ready to curse out whoever was causing trouble. The words died in my throat the instant I saw who was standing there.

The furious pounding on my door suddenly made sense.

Standing outside was an enraged family of four. The man at the front, Curtis Vaughn, slammed his fist against the door and pointed at me.

"You piece of trash! I finally found you! Wasn't it enough for you to eat and drink for free every day? Now you're trying to destroy us completely? Fine. If I'm going down, I'm taking you with me!"

Before I could react, he shoved past me and barged into my apartment with his family.

"You got my restaurant shut down. From now on, you're responsible for feeding my entire family."

That was the last straw.

"What the hell is wrong with you people?" I snapped. "I'm going to sue you for breaking into someone's home in broad daylight!"

The woman, Shelby Vaughn, stormed up to me and let out a cold laugh. "Go ahead. Sue us. We've got nothing left anyway. Since we can't survive out there, we'll just live here from now on."

I stared at her, completely baffled. "Seriously? Are you all out of your minds? Your restaurant got shut down, so what? What does that have to do with me? Why should I let you stay in my home?"

Curtis looked at me with undisguised contempt. "Didn't think this day would come when you were scamming free meals, did you? You look like a decent person on the outside, but you're disgusting."

Scamming free meals?

I had never done anything as despicable as that in my life. There had to be some kind of misunderstanding.

Unfortunately, they weren't interested in listening. Left with no other choice, I called the police.

About fifteen minutes later, two officers arrived.

The moment they walked through the door, Curtis, who'd been raging moments ago, instantly switched to a pitiful expression.

"Officers, you've got to help ordinary folks like us.

"This guy kept ordering food from our restaurant over and over. Every single time, he'd claim there was a hair in the food or a bug in the dish. Then he'd threaten us, saying if we didn't issue a full refund, he'd leave negative reviews.

"We had no choice but to refund him every time. But a few days ago, he ordered from us again. This time he claimed our food made him sick and demanded compensation for medical bills. It came up to $100,000!

"There's no way we could afford that much money. So he posted videos online saying our food was unsanitary. He got people to flood us with bad reviews and even reported us to the authorities, demanding an investigation.

"Now our delivery listings have been removed, and the restaurant has been shut down. My two kids don't even have money for school anymore."

The more Curtis spoke, the more aggrieved he sounded. By the end, his eyes were red with emotion.

Meanwhile, I was staring at him in disbelief. Everything he described was completely foreign to me. I had never done any of it.

"That's not true," I immediately said.

As if Curtis had been expecting my denial, he pulled out his phone.

"Officer, look for yourself. Do you think I'd make something like this up? The records are all here. The address, the apartment number, the chat history... And he's still trying to deny it."

The officers carefully checked the information before asking me to verify it.

The delivery address on the orders was indeed my apartment, but I hadn't placed a single one of them.

Suddenly, a thought flashed through my mind. Over the past month, delivery drivers had shown up at my door multiple times by mistake. I finally understood why. Someone had been using my address to scam restaurants.

Everything clicked into place. No wonder the scammer had been bold enough to demand $100,000 right off the bat.

Even if the restaurant tried to track them down, the only person they would ever find was me.

Whoever was behind this was unbelievably calculating.

I immediately explained my theory to the officers.

Unfortunately, the Vaughns refused to believe a word of it. They insisted I was lying.

With neither side willing to back down, the situation quickly reached a stalemate. Seeing no other way forward, I asked for three days to investigate the matter and promised I would give them a satisfactory explanation.

The officers helped persuade Curtis, and after a long argument, the Vaughns reluctantly agreed to leave.

As soon as they were gone, I headed to the property management office with the police and reviewed the security footage, but we found nothing.

Nonetheless, if the culprit had done it once, they would do it again.

And next time, I'd be waiting.

I immediately ordered a smart video door lock online and had it installed that very evening. Whenever someone passed by my apartment, the system would automatically record video footage.

The next afternoon, a notification popped up on my phone. Someone had lingered outside my door for a few seconds.

I quickly opened the app to check.`

It was a delivery driver. He left a package at my door and then headed for the elevator.

Three minutes later, another notification appeared. This time, someone had stayed outside my door for more than ten seconds.

It was Derek Sutton, the neighbor from upstairs.

I recognized him because we'd had an unpleasant misunderstanding two months earlier.

A strong gust had blown his wife's lingerie onto my balcony that day. Not wanting to touch something so personal, I'd asked her to come retrieve it herself.

To my surprise, Derek had shown up as well. The moment he saw me, he started accusing me of having an inappropriate relationship with his wife. Fortunately, she dragged him away before the situation turned into a full-blown argument.

I grabbed my phone and rushed upstairs, then pounded on his door. I knocked for quite a while, but there was no response from inside.

Finally, I raised my voice toward the door.

"If you don't come out right now, I'll expose everything you've been doing."

The next second, the door flew open. Derek stood there with an impatient look on his face.

"What is it?"

I got straight to the point. "Why are you using my address when you order food?"

He immediately played dumb. "What are you talking about? I have no idea what you mean."

"I said, why are you using my address when you order food?"

"Do you have any proof? If not, get lost." He rolled his eyes and started closing the door.

I blocked it with one hand. "Still not admitting it? Then take a look at this. Isn't that you?"

The video on my phone clearly showed him sneaking over to collect the delivery.

Seeing that, he immediately changed his story. "I'm protecting my privacy. The internet is so advanced these days. I'm just looking out for my own safety. That's not illegal, is it?"

His response was so ridiculous I almost laughed. "So protecting your privacy means making me take the blame for everything? How can you be this shameless?"

He rolled his eyes. "What's that got to do with me? If you've got a problem, call the police."

With that, he slammed the door shut.

A surge of anger rose in my chest.

So he wanted to play dirty? Then I'd make sure he didn't get a single delivery ever again.

The next day, around lunchtime, my phone alerted me that someone was outside my door again.

The delivery driver set down the order, took a photo, and left. I immediately opened the door and brought the food inside.

It was a deluxe surf-and-turf feast worth $199.

Less than two minutes after I carried it in, my phone buzzed again. I hurried over and waited by the door.

Derek didn't dare call. Instead, he sent a voice message to the driver through the delivery app.

"What's going on? Where's my food? Are you messing with me? Did you take it after you snapped the photo? I'm warning you, I spent almost two hundred bucks on that meal. Bring it back right now!"

He glanced toward my apartment a couple of times before stomping upstairs in frustration.

A few minutes later, the same delivery driver returned.

The two of them stood outside my door.

"I was in a hurry to make my next delivery. I left it here, took the photo, and left. Why would I take your food?" the driver said, looking aggrieved.

Derek wasn't interested in listening. He lit a cigarette. "My deliveries have never gone missing before. So why did it disappear when you were the one delivering it today?

"I don't care. You're paying for it. You don't want a complaint filed against you, do you? Tell you what. Give me $300 and we'll call it even."

"Why should I?!"

The argument quickly escalated.

I opened the door, still holding the takeout container in my hand.

"Are you looking for this?"

The moment they heard me speak, both of them froze.

Derek rushed over and snatched the food from my hands.

"What the hell is wrong with you? You even steal other people's food? Can't afford to feed yourself?"

I immediately turned to the delivery driver. "Hey, did you deliver it to the wrong place? My girlfriend told me she bought me lunch. When I opened the door and saw this sitting outside, I assumed it was from her."

The driver quickly pulled out his phone and checked the order several times. "No mistake. This is the twelfth floor, right? The note says to leave it here, and the apartment number is 1201."

He glanced at Derek. "You don't even live here. Why would you tell us to leave it here? You're just creating trouble for no reason."

Derek's face darkened instantly. "What the hell does it have to do with you? You're a delivery driver. Just deliver it wherever I tell you and shut up. Keep talking, and I'll file a complaint against you."

After cursing him out, Derek turned and headed upstairs through the emergency stairwell.

I thought that after this incident, he might finally learn his lesson and stop pulling this kind of stunt.

Unexpectedly, another delivery showed up outside my door that evening. I took it downstairs and tossed it into the trash along with the garbage from my apartment.

When I came back upstairs, Derek was once again standing outside my door arguing with a delivery driver.

The moment he saw me, he pointed a finger in my direction. "Was it you who stole my food? You pathetic freeloader. I caught you once at lunchtime, and now you've got the nerve to steal it again tonight?"

I played dumb. "What food? I have no idea what you're talking about."

Derek immediately turned to the delivery driver. "Well, I never got my order. If he won't admit it, then you can pay for it. Triple compensation."

Just like that, he shifted the conflict onto me and the driver.

The driver panicked and quickly turned to me. "Come on, man, don't joke around. That fried chicken cost more than $200. I don't even make that much in a day. I left it right here. You really didn't see it?

"I'm just a college student working part-time. If that order is gone, I'll basically be working for free for two days."

Meanwhile, Derek stood there with his arms folded across his chest, looking thoroughly pleased with himself. "You definitely took it. Stealing food just to survive? Looks like you really can't make ends meet."

I repeated the same trick I'd used at lunchtime and had the driver verify the address on the order.

The driver rubbed his eyes and checked it three separate times before finally confirming there had been no delivery mistake.

"This is my apartment, all right. But I didn't order any food. Why are you asking me about a missing delivery? You don't even live here."

Derek remained completely unfazed. "You know perfectly well that I always use this address. If you don't hand it over, then this kid will have to pay for it."

Then he deliberately stirred things up even further. "Don't say I didn't give you a chance. He definitely took it. If you can't get it back, then pay for it yourself."

The student driver's eyes were already welling up with tears.

I quickly tried to reassure him, "It's okay, kid. You won't have to pay a single cent. I've already called the police. We'll wait for them to get here."

Derek's expression immediately darkened. He turned as if he intended to leave.

Just then, the elevator doors opened, and two police officers stepped out.

I grabbed Derek's wrist and said coldly, "This isn't over yet. Did I say you could leave?"