“Alright. I’ve already started preparing for a possible defamation and slander lawsuit, and I’m adding a few investigators to the team I’m bringing.”
“Good. Thank you, Henrique. I’ll be waiting here.”
After hanging up, I made another call—this time to Fábio, the head of the security team I’d recently hired after the latest incidents. He answered immediately, always alert.
“Good morning, Mr. Ferrara. How can I help?”
“I need you at my house this morning. I want your team to start investigating Marcos Albuquerque immediately. I want everything you can find—personal history, financial transactions, professional and personal connections. I want concrete proof of any link between him and Eloá Ferrara.”
He didn’t hesitate.
“Understood. I’ll activate our best private investigator. I’ll be there in about forty minutes so we can go over the details.”
“Perfect, Fábio. I’ll see you here.”
Next, I called my head of press relations, Marília Moreira, who answered almost instantly.
“Good morning, Enrico. I’m following the news. I assume you want to talk about the press situation?”
“Exactly. I need you to gather your team and prepare a clear strategy immediately. I want detailed official statements denying these allegations—without sounding desperate. We’re going to present a united, calm, but firm front. Understood?”
“Perfectly. How soon can you meet with us?”
I glanced at my watch.
“In an hour, here at the house. I need time to take care of a few things first.”
“Alright. We’ll be there.”
Once the calls were done, I leaned back in the chair and rubbed my face. Fatigue tried to take over—I’d spent the entire night intoxicated with Valentina, believing we would fall into an exhausted sleep by morning.
But my determination to resolve this was stronger than any tiredness.
I needed to act quickly, yes—but with efficiency and composure, to make sure nothing slipped through our fingers this time.
An hour later, Marília arrived. We aligned on what needed to be done, and at twelve twenty, as she was leaving, Gabriel arrived with two other lawyers from the legal team and two investigators.
A few minutes later, Fábio arrived as well, carrying preliminary documents he’d already managed to obtain.
We gathered in the large meeting room of the house—a space rarely used, but perfect that day for the urgency and importance of what was at stake. I sat at the head of the table, watching my people take their seats, ready to work.
“Alright, gentlemen. Let’s begin.”
***
The jet took off just after seven on Monday morning, cutting through the sky toward São Paulo.
As I watched the clouds through the aircraft window, my stomach churned with a dense mix of anger, anxiety, and determination. Part of it came from being forced to leave my family—even if only for a few hours.
I’d barely slept, spending most of the night on the phone with Gabriel and Fábio, reviewing every detail uncovered by the initial investigation.
Even with my team working at full speed since the day before, we knew that solid, definitive results would take more time to fully uncover.
Still, the early findings were already enough to give me the confidence I needed to confront Eloá personally. The final proof would come in time—but that first step couldn’t wait.
“Are you alright?” Gabriel asked, seated beside me on the private jet, pulling me out of my thoughts.
I took a deep breath and looked at him honestly.
