Five Minutes Late, and He Lost Everything

CHAPTER 1 — Five Minutes Late

The food had been five minutes late.

That was all.

But Mauricio Alvarez acted as if someone had committed a crime against him.

He knocked the paper bag from the delivery worker's hands, sending pasta, bread, and sauce across the marble floor.

"Now eat it off the floor," Mauricio ordered. "Or I will have you fired from the app."

The party guests laughed nervously.

The delivery worker did not kneel.

Instead, he removed his helmet.

His name was Nathan Reed. He was twenty-six years old, and seven years earlier, he had developed the delivery platform Mauricio was threatening to report him to.

Nathan had come personally because his company had received dozens of complaints connected to this address.

Older drivers had been insulted.

Tips had disappeared.

Several widowed couriers had been permanently deactivated after refusing to carry groceries up three flights of stairs without assistance.

Nathan wanted to see the truth with his own eyes.

He reached into his pocket and held up the mansion's keys.

"Your father is only the manager of my properties, Mauricio."

The room fell silent.

Nathan explained that the mansion belonged to a family trust established by his widowed mother. Mauricio's father, Arturo, had been allowed to live there as part of his employment.

The champagne in Mauricio's hand began to tremble.

"You cannot throw us out," he snapped. "My father practically owns your company."

"No," Nathan replied. "He manages six properties and oversees driver benefits. That ends tonight."

Mauricio's confidence returned.

"My father has documents proving otherwise."

Before Nathan could answer, footsteps sounded on the staircase.

A silver-haired woman in a simple navy dress descended slowly. She was Isabel Alvarez, Mauricio's fifty-eight-year-old mother.

Her eyes were red, but her voice was steady.

"Mauricio, stop lying."

Her son stared at her.

Isabel reached Nathan and placed a thick envelope in his hands.

"I was the one who asked him to come."

Mauricio's face twisted with disbelief.

Then Isabel looked at the guests who had spent years treating her like invisible furniture.

"Your father has been stealing from widows and retired workers for six years."

Inside the envelope were bank transfers carrying Isabel's signature.

But she had never signed them.

"Your father did not just steal Nathan's money. He used my name to do it."