He walked to the main desk and set his briefcase down next to Alvaro’s leather blotter.

“Every single one of them,” Matthew said.

“Why?” Alvaro asked. “I gave you everything, Matthew. I paid for your apartment. I paid for your mother’s care.”

Matthew let out a dry, humorless sound that might have been a laugh.

“You paid for her care with money you stole from people like her,” Matthew said.

He opened his briefcase and pulled out a blue folder, placing it flat on the desk.

“You think you bought my loyalty, Alvaro.”

“I did,” Alvaro said, stepping away from the window. “You were nothing when I found you.”

“Inés found me,” Matthew corrected him, his voice steady and low. “Six years ago, when your legal team tried to foreclose on my family’s farm in Toledo.”

I watched from the Barcelona apartment, my fingers tightening on the edge of the desk.

I remembered that file.

I had hidden it from Alvaro under three layers of corporate restructuring documents.