“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.
