Chapter 59 #2
I knew Eloá. When something didn’t go the way she planned, she didn’t just give up. She adapted.
“How did it go?” André asked, and I realized I’d missed part of what he’d said.
“How did what go?”
“Seeing her again. After everything.”
Only then did I realize something: I hadn’t seen Eloá last night. Valentina and I left before she arrived—and we hadn’t even noticed.
A smile tugged at my mouth.
“I didn’t see her,” I admitted. “We left before she got there.”
The silence on the line was so complete I could practically hear my brother thinking.
“You’re serious?”
“Is that all, André?”
He let out a short laugh.
“I’m glad things are… settling between you two,” he said sincerely, then paused. “And I’m not trying to ruin the moment, but you know how Eloá is. We may have won this battle, but she won’t accept it quietly.”
I exhaled, satisfaction and irritation mixing.
“I know. Eloá has never accepted a loss in her life.” I glanced at Valentina and saw her watching me from the corner of her eye, quietly tracking the conversation. “So what are our options now?”
“We get ahead of her,” André said firmly. “We can’t wait for another attack. We need to move fast and disarm her for good. She’ll strike again—it won’t take long.”
“I’m going back to Tiradentes now. I want you gathering everything you can on Eloá. If she makes a move, I want to know immediately. She’s not catching us off guard again.”
“I’ll handle it personally,” André promised, steady. “We’ll talk soon.” Then, with a suggestive tone: “And… have fun.”
“Go fuck yourself, André.”
That only made him laugh harder before I ended the call.
I slipped the phone back into my pocket, and silence settled between me and Valentina for a beat—until she broke it, controlled curiosity in her tone.
“News about last night?”
“Yes.” I nodded, eyes on the road. “Eloá arrived after we left and didn’t make any statement. Apparently, we’re everywhere today. Newspapers, magazines… they’re calling us the couple of the moment.”
Valentina let out a relieved breath, her shoulders loosening slightly.
“Did you like it, love?”
She rolled her eyes and turned back to the window—but I saw the faint smile at the corner of her mouth.
I leaned in until my mouth was close to her ear. Valentina didn’t move, but the fine hairs on her arm lifted.
“I love you,” I whispered.
She closed her eyes.
“That’s playing dirty,” she whispered back.
“For you, I don’t care what kind of game I have to play,” I murmured. “I love you.” I repeated it, slower. “And I’m going to say it every chance I get.”
Valentina turned her face slightly but didn’t answer.
I lifted my hand and stroked her cheek. We were close enough that I felt her breath against my skin.
“Yours,” I whispered. “I’m yours. Don’t forget.”
***
“What is all this?” Valentina asked, her eyes bright with that adorable mix of surprise and caution—like she was afraid to let herself enjoy anything.
I’d spent the last two hours preparing every detail of the night.
I made dinner myself, paying attention to everything. I chose ingredients I knew were her favorites—flavors that would make her smile without meaning to, tastes that would drag happy memories out of the past.
She’d been right about one thing: I was playing dirty.
And if getting filthy was the price of winning her back, then I was ready to roll in the mud.
I’d set an impeccable table on the back veranda, taking advantage of the soft night breeze and the scent of the garden flowers she loved. Candles glowed across the table. Soft music—her music—played quietly in the background.
Everything in that scene was deliberate. Built to reach her heart.
I’d left Valentina and Clara alone for bedtime.
As much as I’d missed Clara after nearly two full days away—missed her as sharply as Valentina had—I wanted them to have that moment to themselves. Valentina needed that reconnection desperately.
I could wait.
For them, I’d do anything.
I’d never believed it was possible to love someone so intensely and purely, but what I felt for my daughter… it was inexplicable. I loved her smiles, the sound of her voice—even her stubbornness, because being her mother’s daughter, of course my girl would have a strong will.
“It’s just dinner,” I said to Valentina, who was still standing in the doorway. I pulled out her chair and offered my hand. “One I made for you.”
She stared at me for a few seconds, hesitant, then finally took the invitation and stepped onto the veranda, moonlight and candlelight washing over her.
She sat slowly, taking everything in.
“You didn’t have to do all this,” she murmured.
I smiled as I poured her favorite wine, then sat across from her, my eyes locked on hers.
“I know,” I said. “But I wanted to.”
“I want to do this for you, Valentina. I want to do anything that makes you smile—and I’m not wasting a single opportunity. The simple ones or the grand ones.”
She inhaled, briefly lost in thought, then took a slow sip of wine, trying to rein in whatever she was feeling.
“This is dangerous,” she whispered, meeting my gaze again. “Everything you’re doing is dangerous.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“Dangerous how?”
She bit her lower lip, then answered honestly.
“Because it makes me want to believe you again. And that… isn’t something I planned on allowing.”
I held her gaze, steady, grateful for her honesty even in fear.
“I’ve always liked danger,” I murmured.
Valentina let out a small laugh.
“Just tonight,” she warned.
I smiled broadly—because I knew.
This was only the first of many nights I intended to fight for.
“Of course, love. Just tonight,” I lied shamelessly.
Valentina’s narrowed look told me she knew exactly what I was doing.
And still…
She stayed.
First at the table.
And later…
in my bed.