“You’re not getting the land. And my son is not stepping aside. I owe him an apology, not your bunch.” There was no performance in it, just plain truth.
The leather-jacket guy blinked, surprised to hear that kind of pushback. The boss stayed silent the longest, taking in the new reality.
He’d come for an easy ending and a broken old man. Instead he was looking at two men ready to stand their ground. Fear and guilt were no longer working for him.
He narrowed his eyes, testing whether this was just a brief burst of courage. But my father stood straight and didn’t lower his gaze.
“Well,” the boss said evenly, “then I guess you’ve made your choice.” The bald one tightened up, and the leather-jacket guy cleared the opening.
“You didn’t come here in good faith,” I said calmly. “And you’re not coming back here again.” The boss gave a one-sided smile, but his eyes stayed cold.
I took half a step forward, marking the line without saying it. One more step from his men and they’d be back in the tight yard. And by now the whole road would come out to watch.
“You’ll regret this, Paul,” he said quietly. “The land. This morning. All of it.” My father answered before I could.
“Maybe. But I won’t regret saying no.” The boss looked at him, memorizing his face. “We’re leaving,” he said shortly, with finality…
