Chapter 4
FOUR
VALENTINA MUNIZ
The Sunday sun was pleasantly warm, filtering through the lush trees of Tiradentes’ central park.
Beside me, Clara bounced with excitement as she held Theo’s blue leash—Theo being the golden lab from one of our neighbors. She’d asked me to watch him for the weekend while she traveled for work.
Theo’s tail never stopped wagging. He seemed thrilled with our decision to bring him to the park, practically vibrating with impatience to join the other dogs gathered for the local “dog birthday party” a group of residents organized every month.
“Mommy, can I let Theo go now?” Clara asked, practically hopping in place. Her gray eyes shone with contagious excitement.
“You can,” I said, smiling as I watched her carefully unclip the leash. “But stay inside the fenced area, okay?”
Theo was trained—energetic, but obedient. The moment he was free, he bolted across the grass with endless stamina, racing toward the other dogs. Clara burst into laughter and ran after him, her joy so pure it warmed something deep in my chest in a way I couldn’t fully explain.
“Looks like someone’s happy today,” Júlia commented as she came up beside me, holding two steaming cups of coffee. She handed me one.
“And why wouldn’t she be?” I smiled back, accepting the warmth with a satisfied sigh. “She’s four years old. She has a happy dog. And cupcakes waiting for her later. I’m pretty sure that’s the definition of happiness.”
Júlia laughed, and we watched the park together. It was full—kids running and playing, adults chatting, and the dogs, the undeniable stars of the party, soaking up every second of freedom and attention.
A warm sense of belonging spread through my chest.
I loved this place. I loved Tiradentes—its people, its quiet, its steadiness. This was the life I had chosen. The life I had rebuilt with stubborn effort and determination after everything that had happened.
Theo sprinted back to me for a moment and nearly knocked me over, planting his front paws on my legs and begging for attention with pleading eyes.
“Theo!” I scolded, laughing as I scratched behind his ears. His tail wagged even faster.
“You spoil that dog way too much,” Júlia teased, watching him take off again. “He’s not going to want to go back to Fabiana after this.”
“Not more than I spoil Clara,” I said with a shrug and a smile.
We watched Clara play with the other children, her laughter mixing with barking and the easy conversation around us.
Camila and Renata—two other friends from the bakery—approached with smiles that immediately told me they had news.
“Good morning!” Camila greeted us, hugging us quickly. “Have you heard the latest?”
Júlia and I exchanged a look before I answered.
“Depends. I’m hoping it’s good.”
“Unfortunately, it isn’t,” Renata said, folding her arms, worry clear on her face. “City hall decided to keep the permit they granted the resort—even after our petition. I saw a team out early this morning taking measurements near the central square. They’re really going through with it.”
A sick, unpleasant shiver ran up my spine. The threat I’d tried not to take too seriously felt more real now—closer, heavier, inevitable.
“Are you sure?” I asked, anxiety slipping into my voice despite my effort to keep it steady.
“I’m sure, Val,” Renata said. “I saw it myself. I talked to a few residents. They’re already contacting owners, making offers… all of it.”
Júlia exhaled beside me, her gaze shifting to mine. She knew exactly what that meant—especially for me. The bakery. Our neighborhood. The life we’d built, threatened by a project that had nothing to do with who this place was.
“What can we do?” I asked, trying to keep the edge out of my voice. “There has to be a way to stop it. We could go to the council meeting—”
Renata nodded firmly.
“We’re going to organize something. Everyone’s worried. What they’re planning will destroy the town we know. It’ll turn Tiradentes into a soulless tourist set—pretty on the outside, dead on the inside.”
My stomach tightened. My eyes went straight to Clara—still playing without a care in the world beside Theo. For a second, I wished I could preserve that innocence forever. Keep her far away from anything ugly or threatening.
“And there’s something else…” Renata added hesitantly, looking at me as if unsure whether she should say it.
“Something else?” A sudden chill traced my spine. The expression on her face made my heart beat too fast, too hard.
Renata took a deep breath, biting her lip before she continued.
“We found out who the company is. The resort… it’s a Ferrara Group project.”
My entire body went cold.
Renata kept talking, but I stopped hearing her. The air seemed to disappear from my lungs. Silence filled the space between us—absolute, suffocating.
My hands began to tremble. A sharp, icy rush crawled over my skin, up my neck, locking me in place.
Ferrara.
Five years had passed without me allowing myself to think that name. Five years of blocking every memory, every image, every mention that could drag me back to that altar.
Back to that man.
And yet there it was again—appearing in my life like a ghost I would never fully escape.
“Val?” Júlia’s worried voice reached me from far away, muffled by the roar of my own thoughts. I blinked, forcing myself to breathe.
“I… I’m fine.” My voice came out thin, almost inaudible. I swallowed hard, fighting to regain control and shove the name back into the locked part of my mind. “I just… wasn’t expecting that.”
Camila watched me with concern. Júlia touched my arm, steady and silent. None of them knew why that name hit me like a weapon—and I would never let them.
That secret was mine. Buried deep in the past. Exactly where it needed to stay.
I drew in another breath and lifted my chin, summoning the determination I’d built over those five years.
“It doesn’t change anything,” I said firmly, looking straight at Renata even though my hands still trembled at my sides. “I don’t care who they are or how big they think they are. They can’t just come here and destroy everything. We fight. Like we planned.”
All three women nodded, though they kept shooting discreet, worried looks my way. I had to be strong. I had to stay steady—no matter what that name had done to the careful balance I’d maintained for years.
I curled my fingers into fists, hard enough to feel my nails bite into my palms.
It didn’t matter that it was his company.
It didn’t matter that the past was knocking on my door again with relentless force.
I would not let Enrico Ferrara—directly or indirectly—take anything from me again.
Nothing.
“Hey,” Júlia said gently, cutting through the heavy silence. “How about we leave this for tomorrow? Today is dog-party day and kid-cupcake day. We deserve a few hours without that shadow hanging over us, don’t we?”
We all murmured agreement, even though I knew that shadow wouldn’t disappear so easily. Júlia was right—there was nothing we could solve right then, in the park, surrounded by laughing children and happy dogs.
I inhaled slowly, pushed the worry back—temporarily—and looked at Clara and Theo again. They were running across the grass together now, bright and uncomplicated joy in motion.
That was my priority.
That beautiful, happy little girl was the only thing that truly mattered.
And I would do absolutely anything to protect her—whatever it cost.
“Mommy!” Clara called from across the park, waving enthusiastically with Theo at her side. “Come play with us!”
I smiled immediately, warmth flooding my chest.
“I’m coming, baby!” I called back, running toward her and letting myself believe—just for a moment—that everything would be okay.
Because for her… I would make it okay.
***
“And then the princess finally reached the top of the enchanted tower,” I whispered dramatically, changing my voice as I read the last lines of Clara’s favorite bedtime story.
She stared at me with total focus, gray eyes wide with fascination and anticipation, as if she weren’t hearing it for the hundredth time.
Snuggled under the blankets in her small bed, surrounded by a kingdom of stuffed animals—and with Theo curled peacefully at the foot of the mattress, nearly asleep too—my daughter hugged her plush unicorn to her chest. Her little fingers played absently with its colorful mane.
“And up there, at the very top, she found the treasure she had been searching for,” I continued, pausing for dramatic effect. “But it wasn’t made of gold or precious jewels…”
“It wasn’t?” Clara whispered, leaning forward like I was about to reveal the secret of the universe.
I shook my head, smiling softly.
“No. It was something much more valuable. It was a chest full of courage, love, and hope. A treasure she would carry forever in her heart, no matter what happened.”
Clara sighed contentedly and sank back into her pillow, a peaceful smile spreading across her delicate face.
“That’s my favorite part, Mommy,” she said sleepily, yawning right after.
“Mine too, princess,” I murmured, closing the book gently and placing it on the nightstand.
For a few seconds, I just watched her. I never got tired of memorizing her—every detail of her face, from her rosy cheeks to the soft shape of her small lips.
Clara was perfect.
She was my light, my strength, my absolute reason for everything. The best gift I had ever received. The biggest reason I kept fighting every day.
I leaned over and tucked the blankets around her carefully, then kissed her forehead.
“Good night, Mommy,” she murmured, already half-asleep.
“Good night, my love,” I whispered, smoothing her hair. “Sleep well. Mommy loves you more than anything in this world.”
She smiled—barely—and her breathing soon deepened, steady and calm. She was asleep.
I stayed beside her for a few minutes, listening to that soft sound, feeling it fill me with a happiness and gratitude I couldn’t properly name. Those moments were the most valuable things I owned—small treasures I guarded fiercely in my memory.
Theo lifted his head, watching me with big brown eyes, as if asking whether everything was okay. I reached down and petted him.
“You’re good, buddy. Go back to sleep.”
He exhaled, put his head down, and started snoring softly again.
When I finally stood, I closed the curtains slowly, leaving a thin strip of light so Clara wouldn’t feel insecure if she woke during the night. Then I walked to the door in silence, taking one last loving look at her bed before stepping into the hallway.
As I shut the door carefully, a deep sigh escaped me.
Despite the calm of that moment, I couldn’t fully shake the worry that had settled inside me after the conversation in the park.
After the name.
I sank onto the living room couch and let the quiet wrap around me. The only sounds were Clara’s distant breathing and Theo’s soft snores.
And still—no matter how hard I fought it—the name returned, intrusive and insistent.
Ferrara.
Cold crept through me, squeezing my chest until it ached. Knowing that name was suddenly this close—close enough to touch the life I’d built here—made my sense of safety wobble for the first time in years.
And then, inevitably, another name surfaced.
Enrico.
Even after all this time—after everything he’d done—his name still had the power to pull dangerous sensations out of me. Anger. Hurt. Grief.
And something deeper I refused to name, even to myself.
I shut my eyes hard, pressing my palms to my face as I breathed through the emotion threatening to break past the walls I’d built.
I couldn’t allow it.
I couldn’t allow him to have power over me again—not even inside my own memories.
I wasn’t that naive, lovesick girl anymore. That girl had been abandoned, humiliated, erased at an altar. And from her ashes, a different woman had been born—stronger, sharper, determined never to let anyone hurt her like that again.
I opened my eyes, squared my shoulders, and took control.
It didn’t matter who was behind the project.
It didn’t matter that it was the Ferrara name.
I would not let them interfere in my life—or Clara’s.
My daughter would never need to know the past I had buried or the battles waiting ahead. Because I was her mother, and that was my most sacred promise.
Enrico Ferrara would remain a shadow from my past—until the day I finally erased him completely.
He was too big for a place like Tiradentes. He probably didn’t even know this project existed.
And I didn’t care if he did.
That man had taken enough from me once.
With the strength I’d built over five years, I would not let him take anything else.
Not even my peace.