I exhaled, glanced away for a moment, then looked back.
“Because it’s the least I can do after everything.” My voice hardened into resolve. “And I also officially ended Dreamland. There won’t be any more threat to Tiradentes or to the people here.”
Valentina studied me in silence, weighing my words with suspicion and shock. She stayed rigid, but I saw the faint tremor in her hands—emotion she tried to bury.
“That doesn’t fix what you did,” she said finally. Low, firm. “It doesn’t erase what I went through. It doesn’t erase what I lost because of you.”
I nodded.
“I know,” I said. “I never imagined I could repair the damage completely. But I had to do something right—however small.”
She held my gaze for a long beat. Her expression softened just a fraction, as if she was absorbing the reality of what I was saying.
“It doesn’t change anything between us,” she said, colder again, but less sharp.
“I know,” I whispered. “I don’t expect it to.”
Silence pressed in.
Her eyes stayed on me, reflecting emotions I couldn’t fully name.
I drew in a breath. There was no space left for cowardice.
“I’m not here only to talk about debts and Dreamland,” I said. My voice stayed low, but my heart hammered hard. “I’m here because I need to say things I’ve never said—and you deserve to hear them from me.”
Valentina lifted her chin with that stubborn dignity that made me hate myself for admiring her even now. She crossed her arms tighter, a physical barrier.
“Then say it,” she said. “I’m listening.”
My hands trembled slightly at my sides. I looked down for a heartbeat, searching for strength, then met her eyes.
“I was wrong,” I said. “Wrong in a way that’s unforgivable.” My throat tightened. “I never should’ve believed something so blindly without questioning, without listening to you first.” My voice broke at the edges. “There is no excuse for what I did. For that day. For how I treated you. For everything you suffered because of me. I was cowardly. I was selfish. I was cruel.”
The words came out heavy with remorse.
Valentina didn’t move, but I saw her hands tighten around her own arms, and her eyes shone with contained emotion.
I inhaled again, forcing myself to say the part I’d never told anyone out loud.
“I trusted Eloá blindly,” I said, voice strained. “I’m not trying to justify what I did—but you need to understand.” I swallowed. “When my parents died, she was all I had. She took over everything. My life. My brothers’ lives. She raised us.” The confession tasted bitter. “I grew up with that debt in my bones. I never believed she was capable of—” I shook my head. “I just…”
Valentina watched me closely. Her expression softened slightly, though pain still lived in her eyes.
“But I was capable?” she asked quietly. “I was capable of betraying you, Enrico, but your grandmother wasn’t capable of lying to you?”
I closed my eyes.
“It doesn’t excuse anything,” I said. “I know.” My voice turned raw. “But when Eloá brought those fake ‘proofs’ of your betrayal, I believed her instantly because it washer.” My jaw clenched. “She wasn’t just the woman who raised me. She was the only person in the world I believed I could trust without question.” I looked at Valentina again. “The idea that she could lie to me—manipulate my life like that—it never even crossed my mind.”
“I’m not telling you this to lessen my guilt,” I added quickly. “I just… I want you to understand why I was that coward.”
Valentina’s voice trembled when she answered.
“You have no idea what those years were like for me, Enrico.” Her eyes shone. “No idea what I faced. How humiliated I was. How despised I was for something I never did.”
“I know,” I cut in softly, and the weight of the words hit me like a blow. “I read the reports, Valentina. I know exactly what happened after I left you.”
A bitter laugh escaped her—tears gathered now.
