Luis unfolded one of the property documents.
“And our house?”
Martin barely glanced at it.
“You signed an agreement.”
“I never signed this loan.”
“That is a matter for attorneys.”
“My attorneys are already involved,” I said.
Martin’s hand tightened around his cane.
“You have money now, Gabriel. That does not change the past.”
“No. It gives me the resources to prove what happened.”
He came closer.
“You think you built your company alone?”
“I never said I did.”
“You benefited from the hardship you now complain about. Without Bright Path, you would never have become the man standing here.”
I looked toward the food cart.
“You did not make me successful. The people you tried to erase did.”
Martin’s calm finally cracked.
“Leave this neighborhood alone.”
“I own most of the debt Northline planned to use against these families.”
“Then sell it.”
“No.”
“You have no idea what you are interfering with.”
“I know my father’s trust paid for companies you control.”
“You cannot prove that.”
“Not yet.”
A faint smile touched his face.
“Then be careful what you promise these people.”
He turned toward his car.
Before he climbed inside, he looked back at me.
“The last time you trusted Marta and Luis, you lost them for twenty-three years.”
The car pulled away.
Luis watched it disappear.
“He was afraid,” he said.
“Yes.”
Marta looked at me.
“Of what?”
“My legal team found records showing that an office belonging to Bright Path once stood at the end of this block.”
“The old church building,” Luis said. “It closed years ago.”
“Northline has applied for a demolition permit.”
Marta’s eyes widened.
“When?”
“Tomorrow morning.”
Luis stared toward the far end of the street.
The old brick building was barely visible beyond several trees.
“They kept files in the basement,” he said.
“How do you know?”
“Because that was where we went to ask about you.”
Marta gripped the edge of the cart.
“A woman who worked there tried to speak to us after Martin left.”