CHAPTER 35
“What destroys can also rebuild, as long as there’s hope…”
DIEGO BITTENCOURT
“Congratulations. Our company just became a national joke.”
Alexandre stormed into my office without knocking, his face a mix of frustration and disbelief.
He threw a magazine onto my desk with enough force to make me look up from the papers I was reviewing.
Splashed across the cover was a sensational headline about the incident at the workshop—complete with a blurry photo of Maria Gabriela and me in the middle of an argument.
I hadn’t read a word about it until that moment, but of course the press was going to exploit the scandal.
They always did.
A powerful CEO and his secretary caught in a public fight? Perfect tabloid material.
“It’s not that bad,” I muttered, trying to ignore the irritation bubbling under my skin. “I’ve dealt with worse.”
Alexandre let out a short, humorless laugh, crossing his arms as he stared at me with that cold, unimpressed look.
“Oh, right. Because the whole country speculating about the paternity of this baby isn’t a big deal, huh? And the best part—you’re still refusing to even consider the possibility.”
I rolled my eyes and slumped back in my chair, closing my eyes for a moment as I rubbed my temples.
“There’s nothing to consider. The baby isn’t mine. I’ve already decided that when it’s born, I’ll have the paternity test done. I’ll prove I’m right—that she’s been lying this whole time.”
“And what if you’re wrong?” Alexandre’s voice cut through the air like a blade.
I opened my eyes and glared at him, annoyed by the implication.
“I’m not wrong. I know how this looks, but I’ll handle it. When that baby’s born, I’ll shove the paternity test in the face of everyone who doubted me,” I said sharply, my tone harsher than I’d intended.
Alexandre leaned against my desk, studying me with that look only a twin brother could give—the one that said, I know you better than you know yourself.
“I’ll ask again,” he said quietly this time. “What if you’re wrong? What if the baby is yours, Diego? How are you going to live with yourself knowing you treated the mother of your child like that?”
“And I’ll say it again—I’m not wrong!”
Still, a small voice inside me whispered the question I didn’t want to hear:
What if Alexandre was right? What if I was making the biggest mistake of my life?