Chapter 9
NINE
ENRICO FERRARA
The historic mansion Pedro had reserved for me in Tiradentes should have been more than enough to guarantee absolute comfort.
But in that moment, no amount of luxury or exclusivity could dampen the violent, destructive storm roaring inside me.
I paced the polished floors like a caged predator, expensive shoes striking wood in sharp, steady beats as I tried—and failed—to contain my rage. My muscles were tight. My hands clenched at my sides.
All I could see was her.
The woman who had ruined my life. Betrayed my trust. Dragged my name through public humiliation—and still had the audacity to look me in the eye with that absurd arrogance, as if she were some innocent victim of my actions.
My phone buzzed on the table, cutting through my fury. I answered the moment I saw André’s name.
“I hope you’re calling to tell me you have the results of the investigation I asked for.”
My brother let out a breath on the other end.
“So that’s what we’re calling the cryptic, completely out-of-nowhere message you sent ten minutes ago? An ‘investigation request’?”
“André,” I growled, and he released a long sigh.
“What is going on, Enrico? You go to Tiradentes for a Dreamland meeting, and I get a demand for the last five years of your ex’s life. That doesn’t make any sense, I—”
“I saw her,” I cut in, with zero interest in explaining myself.
André went silent.
“She’s here,” I continued, my voice flat with contained violence.
“In Tiradentes. And she had the nerve to look me in the eyes and threaten me.” I took a slow breath, my control stretched razor-thin.
“I want every damn detail of that woman’s life.
Every mistake, every step, every debt—anything I can use to destroy her. ”
On the other end, André exhaled slowly, careful with his words.
“Enrico, you need to breathe and think. I know this hits you personally, but we have to act rationally. You can’t let personal resentment interfere with your decisions.”
I laughed—sharp and ugly.
“Personal resentment? Do I need to remind you what she did?” My voice trembled at the edges, even as I fought to keep it controlled.
“Do you have any idea what it would’ve cost—not only me, but all of us—if I hadn’t found out in time that she was carrying my last name?
” My jaw tightened. “I warned her. I warned her to never even think my name again. And she chose to stand in my way. Then she can deal with the consequences.”
A beat of silence followed. André hesitated, choosing his words like they were glass.
“Are you sure the story is exactly what you think it is, Enrico?” he asked carefully. “Have you ever considered there might be more behind it? That maybe she isn’t exactly who you believe she is?”
My jaw locked so hard it ached. André’s suggestion didn’t calm me—it fed the fire.
“You’re defending her now?” I said, my voice turning arctic. “You, André?” I let the words hang like a threat. “Don’t waste my time—or yours—trying to soften the character of that opportunist. I already know exactly what she is. I lived it.”
“I’m saying it might be worth digging deeper before you act on impulse,” André insisted, calm. “Not everything is what it looks like at first glance. What if we investigate more than just the past five years—”
“I don’t want to hear another word,” I cut him off, brutal.
“Just do what I asked. I want everything. I don’t care what you have to pay or who you have to pressure.
” My voice sharpened. “And I want it fast, André. I’m not spending a second longer than necessary in a town that’s been contaminated by her presence. ”
A pause. Then, resigned—
“All right, Enrico,” he said. “I’ll handle it. Immediately.”
I ended the call, angrier than before.
André usually supported my decisions without hesitation—especially on matters this personal. The fact that he’d even attempted to defend Valentina, even slightly, only fueled my fury.
Before I could fully process it, a discreet knock at the door snapped me out of the trance.
“Come in,” I bit out.
The door opened, revealing Pedro’s anxious face. My assistant looked like he’d rather be anywhere else on earth than standing in front of me.
“Mr. Ferrara, I apologize for the interruption, but the mayor has arrived. He’s here.”
“Finally.”
As if it weren’t enough that incompetence had allowed my access to city hall to be blocked—now he’d made me wait.
“I left him in the ground-floor office,” Pedro added.
I strode out with firm, controlled steps into the room Pedro indicated. The moment I opened the door, Márcio Penhaz stood to greet me.
His protruding belly shifted as he transferred his weight awkwardly from one leg to the other. His bald head was red and sweating.
I inhaled, keeping my face cold and my posture rigid as I met his eyes.
“I assume you’re here to explain why you allowed that ridiculous circus earlier today,” I said as greeting, moving around the massive mahogany desk and taking the chair behind it. “And I’m very interested in hearing your explanation.”
The mayor swallowed, shifting nervously, searching for words that wouldn’t incriminate him further.
“I… I’m sorry, Mr. Ferrara, but my hands are tied,” he began.
“The residents’ movement is more organized than I anticipated.
They mobilized the council. They created a formal association to represent them.
They’re blocking essential processes for the resort approval and staging protests.
The front of city hall has been occupied for days.
And the press is on their side.” He exhaled.
“There’s nothing I can do to remove them without attracting negative attention. ”
My irritation sharpened.
How had they organized this thoroughly without my team detecting it sooner?
“You’re telling me you’ve been defeated by amateurs?” I asked softly—dangerously. “You allowed a handful of small-town residents to stall a billion-dollar project?”
The man took a step back, clearly terrified.
“Well, perhaps calling it a small town—” he started, then swallowed hard under my stare. “I did everything I could, Mr. Ferrara. The only way forward now is to negotiate directly with the association’s leader.” He hesitated. “I can arrange the meeting immediately if you agree.”
I exhaled, hating every word.
The idea that I had to negotiate with anyone from that group was an insult to my authority and power.
But I didn’t have a choice. The resort needed to move forward—and fast. This project wasn’t just an investment; it was personal—for Eloá, for me.
“Set the meeting,” I said flatly. “Who is this leader who thinks she can challenge Ferrara Group?”
The mayor hesitated, eyes flicking away before he murmured, embarrassed—
“It’s… it’s Ms. Valentina Muniz, Mr. Ferrara.”
It felt like lightning hit my spine.
Heat. Rage. The name detonating in my head.
Valentina.
Again. Always Valentina.
The mayor retreated another step at the silent fury on my face.
“She’s the one coordinating the resistance personally,” he added quickly.
My vision narrowed, red at the edges, my breathing speeding from pure hatred. She wasn’t just defying me—she was standing directly in my way, obstructing something I considered mine by right.
I clenched my teeth until my jaw screamed, every cell in my body burning with the irrational urge to destroy her on the spot.
But I drew in a breath and forced my control back into place.
“Then this meeting will be even more interesting than I expected,” I said, my voice cold and lethal. The mayor visibly flinched. “Set it up. As soon as possible.”
He nodded quickly and fled the room, shutting the door behind him.
The moment I was alone, my fury surged—violent and bright, obliterating the last remnants of calm.
Valentina Muniz would pay for every obstacle she put in my path.
I would crush her resistance. Her delusions of victory.
And when I was done, there would be nothing left standing.
Because this time, I would make sure my revenge was final.