“Yes,” I said.
“Well, in the interests of the town, I’m willing to mediate. The representative currently in the city—the CEO himself—is willing to meet with you.”
A bitter laugh scraped out of my throat.
He waswillingto meet with me. What a cruel joke.
“When is the meeting?” I asked, realizing I’d been silent too long when he cleared his throat.
“Tomorrow morning at ten,” he said. “At city hall.”
I closed my eyes, a sick chill running through me.
Facing Enrico again—so soon—felt almost unbearable.
“Fine,” I said finally, low but firm. “I’ll be there.”
I ended the call, the silence in the room suddenly heavy. Júlia stared at me, worry deepening.
“They want a meeting,” I said. “They accepted the one I asked for, actually. Between the Association… and Ferrara.”
Júlia’s eyes widened.
“Are you sure you’re ready for that, Valentina?”
I bit my lip, fighting the subtle tremor in my hands.
“I don’t have a choice,” I said. “If I don’t face him now, everything I’ve fought for all these years will collapse. I can’t let that happen.”
Júlia squeezed my hand again—support, strength.
“You won’t be alone,” she said. “Me, Camila, Renata—everyone in this town is with you. Enrico Ferrara has no idea what kind of resistance he’s about to face this time.”
A small smile formed, gratitude mixing with a thousand other emotions trying to drown it.
“Thank you, Ju,” I whispered. “I wouldn’t have made it without you.”
“Of course you would’ve,” she said firmly. “But you won’t have to find out tonight.”
I inhaled slowly and nodded.
“I’m going to face Enrico Ferrara tomorrow,” I said, steady now. “I won’t back down—no matter what he says or does. He can’t hurt me more than he already has.” My voice hardened into certainty. “Now I know who he really is. And more importantly, I know who I am.”
Júlia smiled, proud.
“That’s the Valentina I know.”
ELEVEN
ENRICO FERRARA
City hall’s meeting room was small and suffocating—nothing like the expansive, polished environments I was accustomed to. The rustic table, the old, worn furniture… everything about the room felt designed to test my patience.
But nothing irritated me as much as the woman sitting across from me.
Valentina.
She sat with her hands resting calmly on the table, posture rigid, shoulders squared—resistance made flesh. She was determined not to show a single crack in front of me.
