Chapter 68 #2
“It’s impressive, Eloá. Even after everything, you can still lie while looking me straight in the eye.”
She blinked, confused for a split second, before quickly reassembling her mask.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Enrico. I’m only trying to help you. Perhaps your pain is distorting your perception in this delicate moment.”
I smiled coldly and took one step closer, fixing her with a gaze intense enough to make her sink back slightly into her chair.
“That’s enough, Eloá. Do you really think I’m foolish enough to fall for this game again? That I didn’t see your signature behind every step Marcos Albuquerque took?”
She opened her mouth to protest, but I raised a hand, cutting her off immediately.
“I know about the deposits Marcos received days before the press conference. I know about the meetings he had here—in this house—with you personally. I have images, dates, bank documents. I came here out of courtesy, out of respect for my parents’ memory, to warn you one last time: stay out of my life.
Don’t cross my path, Eloá. Forget my name. Forget my family. Forget that I exist.”
Her face drained of color, her arrogant confidence slowly dissolving into barely concealed rage.
“You’re making a mistake, Enrico. Don’t make accusations you can’t prove.”
I leaned toward her, my voice low and firm.
“I can prove it,” I lied—knowing I soon would.
In her arrogance, Eloá had been careless.
She was probably convinced I’d be foolish enough to fall for the theater she staged.
I had once, hadn’t I? “Your manipulations in my life end here. This was your last attempt—and you failed miserably. I will prove everything you did, and when I’m done, there will be no doubt about who you truly are. ”
I straightened, stepping back calmly. The shock in her eyes was too satisfying to ignore—but I wouldn’t stay any longer.
“Never approach me or my family again. Never try to interfere in our lives. This is your last chance to walk away with some shred of dignity, Eloá. I suggest you take it—because I won’t hesitate to expose how deep your filth really goes.
I’ll make everything public, including past crimes you committed in your personal business dealings. ”
“You… you’re threatening me?” she shrieked, outraged.
“I’m warning you. And as I said—this is the last time.”
I turned my back, leaving her seated in stunned silence as I walked toward the door.
***
The press conference was held in the main ballroom of a downtown S?o Paulo hotel. Everything had been meticulously planned since the day before. The massive press presence, waiting in curious silence, made it clear this would be one of the most widely covered media events in recent times.
At my side, Henrique and Marília handled final details while I mentally reviewed every point I intended to address that morning. Valentina was not present—at my request. She had already suffered enough, and I refused to subject her to any more discomfort or humiliation.
When I finally stepped up to the podium, hundreds of eyes turned toward me. I took a deep breath and waited until complete silence settled over the room.
“Good morning. Thank you all for being here,” I began, my tone firm and composed. “We called this press conference to definitively clarify the recent events involving my wife, Valentina Ferrara, and the architect Marcos Albuquerque.”
I paused, letting my words resonate.
“As you know, serious accusations were made publicly against Valentina during the inauguration of the Clara Ferrara Institute. I want to state this as clearly as possible: all of those accusations are false and part of a planned, financed scheme to harm my wife and my family.”
Murmurs and flashes rippled through the room, but I raised my hand, asking for calm.
“From the moment these accusations surfaced, my team worked tirelessly to uncover the truth behind them. Today, we are here with solid evidence that proves Valentina’s absolute innocence and exposes those truly responsible for these slanders.”
Fábio stepped forward, handing me a neatly organized folder. I removed several documents and held them up for the cameras—even though all media outlets present had already received copies.
“Marcos Albuquerque received large payments just days before the press conference through a shell company. We have bank records, financial tracking, and detailed documentation proving his financial motive to lie. This same company has indirect—but clear—connections to my grandmother, Eloá Ferrara.”
Another heavy silence fell as the press absorbed the revelation. I continued without hesitation.
“In addition, we obtained images of personal meetings between Eloá Ferrara and Marcos Albuquerque in the days leading up to the press conference, making it clear that everything was carefully orchestrated. All of this documentation has been officially released so there is no doubt about Valentina’s integrity and innocence. ”
A reporter raised his hand immediately.
“Mr. Ferrara, what actions do you intend to take against your grandmother and the architect Marcos Albuquerque?”
“We have already initiated legal proceedings against Marcos Albuquerque for defamation, slander, and moral damages,” I answered firmly.
“As for my grandmother, Eloá Ferrara, I prefer not to discuss deeply personal matters publicly, but appropriate legal measures are being evaluated by our legal team.”
Another journalist pressed.
“How is Valentina handling all of this? Will she make a statement?”
I took a slow breath, my chest tightening at the memory of her pain.
“Valentina has suffered enough from these lies. All she wants now is to continue, in peace, the extraordinary work she’s been doing with the Institute. I am here to protect her, defend her honor, and ensure she is never again exposed to this kind of unjust and defamatory situation.”
A third reporter spoke up.
“And what about the future of the Clara Ferrara Institute after all this negative exposure?”
I smiled confidently.
“The Clara Ferrara Institute is stronger than ever. Valentina is an honest, capable woman who has dedicated all her energy to this project. I am absolutely certain that the truth revealed today will only strengthen the Institute and its future endeavors.”
I looked directly into the cameras, wanting my message to reach beyond the press—to society as a whole.
“I want to conclude by reaffirming, once again, the absolute innocence of my wife, Valentina Ferrara. Any further questions may be directed to my press office, which will provide all necessary evidence and information. I sincerely hope that from this point on, my family will be allowed to live the peaceful, happy life we have always deserved.”
I thanked everyone and ended the conference. Flashes exploded around me as I stepped away, finally feeling a deep sense of relief.
As I left the room, I pulled my phone from my pocket and called home immediately. When Valentina answered, her voice tight with anxiety, I finally allowed myself to smile.
“It’s over, my love. Everyone knows the truth now. No one can hurt you anymore.”
On the other end, I heard a relieved breath followed by a small, emotional sob.
“Thank you, Enrico. Thank you for believing in me.”
“I will always believe in you,” I said softly, emotion filling my voice. “Now we’re going to live our lives, Valentina. Nothing else matters. We have a wedding to plan.”
She laughed.
“I love you, Enrico Ferrara.”
“And I love you, Valentina Ferrara. Forever.”