Chapter 62 #2
I straightened my shoulders, meeting her stare with even greater resolve.
“You’ve lost, Eloá. I know that’s hard for you to accept, but it’s time you do. You have no power over me anymore. Not over Enrico. And certainly not over Clara. It’s over.”
She stayed perfectly still, her gaze burning into mine for long seconds. Finally, she leaned back, though the cold expression remained intact.
“You’re foolish, Valentina. And fools always pay dearly for their na?veté. I hope you’re prepared for the price. You’ve been warned.”
“Believe me,” I replied, opening the car door with a cold smile, “the only price I’ll pay now is the satisfaction of watching you disappear from our lives once and for all.”
Without waiting for a response, I stepped out of the car, a powerful wave of liberation crashing over me as the door closed behind me.
For the first time in years, I had faced Eloá Ferrara.
And, surprisingly, she was the one who looked fragile and exposed.
I walked quickly down the sidewalk, my heart pounding violently, my legs trembling—not only from the adrenaline of the confrontation, but from the profound sense of freedom it had given me.
The first thing I thought of was Enrico.
I needed to see him. To talk to him. Immediately.
My thoughts raced as I headed toward the institute’s temporary headquarters, where I knew he’d be at that hour, overseeing the first meetings with the restorer.
As soon as I entered the small rented building, I passed a few employees who greeted me politely. I responded with a brief nod, moving straight toward the room Enrico was using as his office.
I didn’t knock before opening the door.
I needed his presence—desperately—to anchor my emotions.
Enrico looked up at once, startled by my abrupt entrance.
“Valentina? Are you okay?” he asked, already standing, concern etched across his face.
I closed the door behind me and took a deep breath, summoning the strength to speak.
“Eloá approached me earlier today,” I said all at once, still feeling the weight of her words. “She was waiting for me outside the bank.”
Enrico’s expression hardened instantly, concern giving way to anger.
“What did she do? Did she threaten you?” he asked, stepping closer, stopping just inches from me. His hands rose to my cheeks, holding my face.
“Not physically, but…” I hesitated, searching for the right words. “She tried to poison my heart against you, Enrico. She said terrible things—trying to make me doubt your intentions, who you really are.”
He took a deep breath, jaw tight with rage—but there was fear in his eyes too as he searched my face.
“And what did you tell her, Valentina?” he asked quietly. “What are you thinking now?”
I lifted my eyes to meet his, stepping closer.
“I told her I’m not the same woman she destroyed five years ago.
I told her you’re not the same man she manipulated and controlled,” I said, my voice faltering for a moment before I continued.
“I defended you, Enrico. And I didn’t do it just for you—but for myself.
For the first time in years, I had the courage to face the person who destroyed our lives. I needed to do that.”
Enrico’s eyes shone as he looked at me, his thumbs brushing my cheeks as our gazes stayed locked.
“You have no idea how much that means to me, Valentina.”
And then, without hesitation, his lips met mine.
It started softly, almost uncertainly, as if our mouths were relearning each other after so long.
That softness quickly turned into urgency—a visceral need that coursed through every fiber of my body. His mouth fit perfectly against mine, warm and intense, loaded with emotion that went far beyond physical desire.
His tongue met mine slowly, a deliberate, unhurried dance filled with promises and silent forgiveness. Every touch, every movement said everything we still hadn’t managed to put into words.
That kiss was an apology. A vow that the pain of the past would stay exactly where it belonged—in the past.
My hands slid up to his neck, pulling him closer, while his arms wrapped tightly around me, leaving no space between us.
This was more than bodies meeting—it was souls reuniting. A silent declaration of surrender, vulnerability, and a trust that was finally beginning to rebuild.
Enrico deepened the kiss, exploring my mouth with care and passion, every movement whispering that this time, it would be different. This time, there would be no more mistakes. No more running. No more lies.
We finally pulled apart, both of us breathless, foreheads touching, our breaths mingling.
I realized that kiss mirrored our story perfectly: imperfect, intense, painful—but undeniably real, and meant to be rebuilt.
“What was that?” I murmured softly, unable to stop the small smile that curved my lips.
Enrico smiled gently, his lips still close to mine, the tip of his nose brushing my skin.
“Nothing,” he said, his voice rough and affectionate. “I just love you too much—and I needed to kiss you.”
Normally, in that moment, I would have pulled away.
This time, I didn’t.
I simply looked at him in silence for several long seconds, letting my eyes express everything I couldn’t say out loud—my hope, my fear, my desperate need for him not to hurt me again.
As if reading my thoughts, Enrico kissed me again—this time with tenderness, calm, and care—clearly offering his silent answer to all my insecurities:
Never again, my love. Never again.