His crowning achievement was to be The Zenith, a sixty-story monolith. There was only one obstacle: a crumbling, ivy-covered clock tower owned by Sarah Vance, a retired librarian. The tower sat exactly where Elias’s grand lobby was meant to be.

Elias stood in the dust of his empire, holding the proof that his own greed had provided the shovel for his grave. If you'd like to the story:

The next morning, Elias stood across the street, sipping an expensive espresso as the wrecking ball swung. Sarah sat on a nearby park bench, a small, leather-bound book in her lap. She didn’t look angry; she looked patient.

Shift the (e.g., more humorous, darker, or more whimsical) Alter the ending (e.g., a more subtle form of justice)