Diego Bittencourt
“Funny—you’re the one who wanted the results as soon as possible, but now you’re taking forever to open that envelope,” my brother said, sitting across from me with his usual air of criticism.
“Yeah.”
He kept his arms crossed, eyes locked on the damn envelope resting on my desk.
I couldn’t move. I just stared at the sealed paper, too afraid to touch it.
I didn’t even know what scared me more.
I’d spent months convincing myself that Maria Gabriela was lying—that it was all a ploy to stay connected to me, to force a bond I never wanted.
And now, the answer was right there in front of me—the truth I’d claimed to want, suddenly feeling as heavy as a ton of bricks on my chest.
“You planning to stand there all day, or are you going to open it already?” Alexandre prodded, his patience running thin.
I let out a deep breath, resting my elbows on the desk. My hands were sweating—a rare feeling for me.
I’d never been the type to hesitate, never the kind of man to let a situation control me. But that single piece of paper held something that could change everything.
And I knew it.
“I don’t know why I’m like this,” I started, then stopped, unable to find the right words. “I wanted this so badly, but now…”
“You’re scared of what you’ll find,” Alexandre finished for me, reading my mind like always.
“Maybe.”
He’d been doing that since we were kids—reading every flicker of emotion I tried to hide.
“You’ve spent months doubting her. What if the result is exactly what you’ve been afraid of? What if it’s the opposite of what you’ve been telling yourself over and over?”
I met his gaze, my jaw tight.
“I’m not sure I’m ready for that.”
“Unbelievable,” Alexandre muttered, shaking his head in disappointment. “You’ve always been the guy who makes decisions, who leads, who never flinches. And now you’re afraid of a piece of paper?”
“It’s not just a piece of paper,” I shot back, my voice low. “It’s my life. If this… proves I’m the father, what the hell am I supposed to do? How do I even deal with that?”
He sighed, leaning forward, his hands flat on the desk.
“You deal with it the way you always do—with strength. With the same determination you use to run this company.” His eyes locked onto mine. “And more importantly, you take responsibility, Diego. That’s what you do.”
I couldn’t afford to fall apart.
With one last breath, I finally reached for the envelope. Alexandre watched silently, letting me take my time. I tore the seal carefully, like the paper might break apart in my hands. I pulled out the documents and started to read.
My hands trembled slightly as my eyes moved over the words.
There it was. Clear as day. I was the father.
No margin for error. Three separate labs confirming what I’d spent months denying to myself.
I. Was. The. Father.
The words echoed in my head like a punch to the gut. I felt my body sink into the chair, all the strength draining from me at once.
Shock rooted me in place.
“Well?”
“I’m the father.” My voice came out as barely a whisper, as if I was still trying to process the truth.
The weight of those words hit me full force. Alexandre didn’t smile. He just looked at me, serious, and nodded slowly.
“Congratulations. I always knew it was possible. Now the real question is—what are you going to do about it?”
My mind spun, struggling to find balance amid the chaos unraveling inside me. Memories flooded back—every time I’d treated Maria Gabriela with doubt, with disdain. And all at once, I felt like an idiot.
A complete, utter idiot.
“I don’t know what to do.”
“I’ll tell you what.” Alexandre stood, his gaze steady on mine. “No one knows better than you what you’ve done. Now it’s on you to fix it. There’s no running from this anymore. She’s out there holding your daughter.”
I kept my eyes on the paper, still trying to absorb the weight of it all.
“This isn’t about pride or business anymore,” Alexandre went on. “It’s about responsibility. It’s about being a father again. You can’t hide behind your office or your companies. This is your life now.”
He left the room without waiting for an answer.
And I stayed there—sitting, alone, with the truth.
I rose slowly, still staring at the documents in my hands.
I cared about Maria Gabriela, even if I’d never admit it. And now, I’d have to face not just my mistakes—but everything that came with them.
A child. A new life. A chance to start over.
But the question that haunted me was the one I couldn’t escape:
How the hell was I supposed to fix this?