Chapter 18
EIGHTEEN
VALENTINA MUNIZ
It was astonishing how life could keep moving normally on the surface while a real earthquake happened quietly inside me.
The last few days had been strangely calm—almost as if the storms of the past weeks had been distant nightmares.
The bank’s demands still haunted me, but after placing everything in my attorney’s hands, I could breathe a little easier. It was serious, but it was being handled.
Enrico, on the other hand, seemed to have retreated—at least publicly. Since the DNA results, he’d been coming to see Clara every day. He stayed two or three hours with her, then left.
He barely spoke to me, limiting himself to short, cold exchanges when necessary.
And for the most part, I preferred it that way.
I still didn’t know what to expect from him, but the truth was—he was being kind to our daughter.
It was almost unbearable to admit, even to myself, but the way he was with Clara was exactly how I had always imagined it would be.
Patient. Gentle. Sweet.
None of that calculated arrogance he reserved exclusively for me.
In a twisted way, it was comforting.
I could withstand his contempt as long as he never hurt Clara.
I exhaled and leaned my wet hands on the edge of the sink, staring at the plate I was holding. I realized I’d been standing there too long, lost in my thoughts, and I shook my head in frustration.
I checked the kitchen clock.
Only thirty minutes before I needed to leave and pick Clara up from daycare.
I moved faster, washing the dishes quickly, determined to finish before Júlia arrived to have coffee with me.
She’d become an almost daily presence since Enrico returned to my life—her support my emotional anchor, what kept me sane in the middle of this chaos.
Júlia didn’t know every detail about the bank’s absurd demands, but her loyalty mattered more than ever.
I rinsed the last plate, dried my hands, and smiled faintly as the doorbell rang.
Relief warmed me—Júlia, right on time. I needed her company desperately today.
“You’re early,” I called as I unlocked the door and swung it open. “I thought you—”
My words died.
My smile vanished.
A court officer stood on my doorstep, holding an official envelope.
My heart surged into my throat.
“Ms. Valentina Muniz?” he asked politely.
“Yes.”
“I have a legal notice for you,” he said, extending the envelope.
My fingers shook as I accepted it, forcing myself to remain composed while my legs threatened to buckle.
“Thank you,” I whispered, closing the door after he walked away.
For several seconds, I stood there frozen, staring at the envelope without the courage to open it. Cold spread through my veins.
My heart was beating so hard and irregularly I feared, for a moment, that I might actually choke on it.
I breathed in and out, trying to steady my hands enough to break the seal.
I didn’t know when seeing court officers had become such a trigger for my anxiety.
Then again… I suspected it happened the first time.
Slowly—like I was defusing a bomb—I pulled the folded paper from the envelope.
It took a few seconds for the formal language to make sense.
Petition for confirmation of paternity and immediate request for full custody on behalf of Mr. Enrico Ferrara.
The words hit me like a blunt strike to the chest, knocking the air out of my lungs.
For a moment, I couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe.
A pain as sharp as a blade carved through me as I read the lines again, wishing desperately they would rearrange into something harmless.
Full custody.
Enrico didn’t just want to officially recognize Clara.
He wanted to take her from me.
The reality slammed into my stomach like a punch.
The silence these past days. The carefully performed kindness with Clara.
It had all been theater.
A distraction designed to make me lower my guard—so he could hit me where it hurt most.
A strangled sound slipped from my throat. Hot tears blurred my vision.
I was terrified.
Not even the threat of losing my bakery or my home had shaken me like those cold, impersonal words.
Because this wasn’t a threat against me.
It was a threat against Clara.
My legs gave out. I searched blindly for the wall, sliding down to the cold floor, the paper still clenched in my hand. Tears finally spilled—silent and unstoppable—as I tried to smother the desperate sobs.
Enrico had made it clear:
He didn’t just want to destroy my life.
He wanted my daughter.
And I knew—with sick certainty—that if he poured his obsessive focus and endless resources into this… he could succeed.
My stomach twisted with panic at the thought of Clara being ripped from my arms.
I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to banish the image, but it only grew sharper. More real. More horrifying.
A knock hit the door, making me flinch violently.
“Val? Are you okay? It’s me—Júlia.”
I wiped my face quickly with the backs of my hands, forcing myself upright on shaking legs. I drew in a breath and opened the door.
Júlia’s cheerful smile vanished the moment she saw me.
“My God, Valentina—what happened?”
I didn’t speak. I simply handed her the paper.
Júlia scanned it. Her expression shifted from confusion to shock to fury.
“It can’t be,” she whispered. “He wouldn’t dare.”
“Seems courage isn’t something Enrico Ferrara lacks,” I said bitterly, despair tightening my throat again.
Júlia pulled me into a tight, grounding hug. For a moment, I allowed the tears to return.
“He’s not going to take Clara from you,” she said fiercely, gripping my shoulders and staring into my eyes. “No sane judge would allow that.”
I nodded, trying to absorb her certainty—but all I could feel was fear. Deep. Visceral. Paralyzing.
And for the first time since Enrico came back into my life, I realized something I hadn’t been willing to face:
I could lose her.
Not just everything I’d built—my daughter too.
The one thing I would not survive losing.
Enrico had declared war.
And I had to learn how to fight.
Because if I lost…
there wouldn’t be anything left of me when it was over.