"No."
"Then why are you smiling?"
Marcus looked at the keypad.
"Because I've heard this speech before."
Sloan's expression hardened.
Before he could respond, another vehicle pulled into the driveway.
Daniel Brooks stepped out.
He walked toward them carrying a thick file.
"Mr. Sloan."
Sloan turned.
"You must be Mr. Brooks."
"I am."
"We've spoken."
"Unfortunately."
Sloan looked annoyed.
"Your client is refusing contractual access."
Daniel smiled.
"Your company is claiming contractual access based on a document signed by a former HOA president without board authorization."
"We have a signed agreement."
"You have a piece of paper."
"It has a signature."
"So does a birthday card."
Sloan's jaw tightened.
Daniel opened the file.
"Where is the board resolution authorizing this agreement?"
Sloan said nothing.
"Where is the recorded amendment to the governing documents?"
Nothing.
"Where is the written consent of the individual homeowners?"
Still nothing.
Daniel closed the file.
"Then you have no right to enter."
Sloan looked at Marcus.
"This isn't over."
Marcus nodded.
"I know."
The SUV left.
Marcus watched it disappear down the street.
Daniel remained beside him.
"You okay?"
Marcus nodded.
"Yeah."
Daniel looked toward the gate.
"They'll probably sue."
"Let them."
"You aren't worried?"
"I've been worried before."
"And?"
Marcus smiled.
"I survived."
The lawsuit arrived two weeks later.
Horizon Community Solutions sued the HOA.
Then it amended the complaint.
Then it added several homeowners.
Marcus was one of them.
The allegation was simple.
The HOA had allegedly promised Horizon access to certain private amenities in exchange for discounted security services.
Horizon claimed that homeowners were interfering with a valid contractual arrangement.
Marcus read the complaint at his kitchen table.
His name appeared repeatedly.
He looked at Daniel.
"They're suing me because I locked my gate."
Daniel shook his head.
"They're suing you because they want a judge to decide whether the gate can stay locked."
Marcus leaned back.
"Same thing."
"Pretty much."
Marcus looked at the papers.
"What happens now?"
"We fight."
"How long?"
Daniel sighed.
"Long enough."
The legal process moved slowly.
Depositions.
Document requests.
Emails.
Financial records.
Board minutes.
Vendor contracts.
Access logs.
Every document told part of the story.
Then Daniel found something.
It was buried inside a financial archive.
A payment from Horizon to a company owned by Patricia Whitmore's brother.
Marcus stared at the screen.
"How much?"