Chapter 40
Oliver Ferraz
I get home and try to reach Alice again—nothing. I call the hotel and ask for Catarina’s number; the front desk gives it to me right away. I dial, and on the second ring, she picks up.
“Hello?”
“Catarina, it’s Oliver. Put Alice on, please,” I say, cutting straight to the point, hoping the two of them are together as always.
“Good morning, Mr. Oliver. I’m not with Alice. She traveled with Mr. Gabriel to visit the branch locations, but I don’t know which hotel they’re staying at. I’m sorry, I can’t help.”
“Damn it! Catarina, please, ask her to call me back. It’s important.”
“I’m sorry, sir.” She hangs up on me.
Who does she think she is? She’s definitely getting a warning when she comes back—if she comes back.
I spend the entire day beating myself up over the same thought: what an idiot I was.
I could be with my little one, holding her close; instead, I sent her away feeling like I didn’t give a damn.
In that spiral of thoughts, I decide I’m never going to love anyone again—love only makes us suffer.
Still, in the quiet honesty with myself, I admit it: I love her.
Too late? Maybe. But I’m not giving up. When she finishes with the hotels, I’ll find her.
For now, there’s another matter demanding my attention: my wedding to Andréa.
I take a quick shower, throw on pants and a shirt, grab the envelope from the living room table, and head to my parents’ mansion.
I park and can already tell they’re expecting me.
I walk in and come face to face with the traitor—Andréa—drinking champagne with our mothers, as if nothing had happened.
“Good evening,” I say coldly.
“So glad you’re here, love,” Andréa says, getting up to hug me. I dodge. She looks embarrassed.
“Good evening, Mom.” I hug Dona Olivia. “Soraia, Lisa, how are you?” I say, not looking at Andréa. Soraia smiles politely.
“We came to finalize the wedding details,” she announces excitedly.
“You wasted your time,” I say curtly. “I was betrayed. There’s not going to be a wedding. Dad, I gave the contract to my lawyer; we’re canceling everything.” Andréa stands up, furious.
“You can’t do this, Oliver! I forgave you when you cheated on me. Why can’t you forgive my mistake?”
“When did I ever cheat on you?” I retort acidly. “I was always faithful. And you… you don’t know what fidelity means.”
She goes for the low blow—mentions Alice with contempt, calling her a “mousy little thing,” insinuating that I’m getting involved with my secretary.
The room fills with shocked stares. I feel the anger rising: I squeeze her arm hard, just to embarrass her—I don’t hit women, even when they deserve it.
I release her arm and say, my voice hard:
“Don’t you dare speak Alice’s name with that filthy mouth. She’s nothing like you. She’s pure, wonderful.”
My father approaches, his expression serious.
“Calm down, son. Did she leave because of you?”
I can’t lie.
“I’m sorry, Dad. I treated her badly. I was a bastard. But I’m not giving up,” I promise. “I won’t stop until I find her. I’m going to bring her back.”
Fernando, always worried about appearances, interrupts:
“Oliver, you have to honor your commitment. What will people say when they find out you’re no longer together?”
“She should have thought about that before fucking Alex,” I say bluntly, pointing my finger. “Andréa never loved me. She was with me for the money. And there’s more: you’re bankrupt.”
The revelation lands like a bomb. Soraia faints on the sofa, my father’s eyes go wide, and Andréa’s face turns to pure panic. I hand the envelope to my father—the dossier my investigator put together: notes, transactions, proof. Fernando and Andréa had been hiding everything.
“How did you find out?” my father asks, stunned.
“While you were away, I had time to think. I met Homero, and he filled me in. I investigated. Fernando was using the company as a front, selling jewelry, asking for advances… my investigator put together the dossier. That’s why I canceled the contract.
If you try anything, I’ll sue.” As far as I’m concerned, this matter is closed.
I leave my parents’ house. I’m almost to the car when I hear Andréa at the door, shouting that I’m not getting rid of her, that she’ll chase that “little sneak” to the ends of the earth.
I don’t even acknowledge her. I don’t know where Alice is, but I’m going to find her.
I’m going to make her happy—this promise warms my chest as I drive away.
Five months pass. The search continues. I’ve had an investigator on her trail, spent time and resources, but nothing.
I don’t give up. I believe that one day I’ll find her again, and that’s what keeps me going.
My secretary is still Mariana—efficient, discreet, a good replacement.
I apologized for my outburst the day she quit, and now we get along well; she accompanies me to meetings, even overseas.
I signed a contract with Henrique, and we’re working together—he handles the properties, and I handle the Ferri name.
The company keeps demanding my attention.
Fraud discovered at the branches forced me to act.
The one in Ceará had a serious problem—and there’s strong suspicion of embezzlement.
I didn’t want to involve too many people.
I only asked Mariana to book me a one-way ticket: I’m going to verify things personally.
I don’t know when I’ll be back in Atibaia.
And there, in Ceará, I had no idea what surprise awaited me.