“I’m not the one with a known history of walking away from commitments,” she fired back, her face going rigid, a faint flush rising in her cheeks.
“I honor my commitments,” I said, cold. “When there is honor in them.”
“Honor?” She let out a short laugh and shook her head. “There’s only honor where there is mutual trust, Enrico.”
The mayor looked between us, bewildered. I drew in a slow breath, forcing my voice into something that didn’t reveal the intensity pulsing through my veins.
“Maybe you should reevaluate what you call ‘trust,’ Valentina,” I said. “Because in my experience, it cannot be demanded when one party proves incapable of honesty.”
Valentina’s eyes flashed, dangerous. Her hands gripped the edge of the table so hard her knuckles turned white.
“Honesty is a two-way street,” she said, her voice trembling at the edges. “And when someone is so determined to believe the worst, no explanation is ever enough.”
I felt a strange, dark satisfaction twist inside me.
We were too close to the real conversation now.
I wanted her to lose control.
“Maybe the problem was never believing the worst,” I said, softly cruel. “Maybe it was refusing to face the fact that certain truths are simply undeniable.”
That did it.
Valentina slammed her hands down on the table and stood abruptly, leaning toward me, eyes blazing with genuine fury.
“Don’t you dare, Enrico,” she hissed. “Don’t you dare go there.”
The mayor stood in alarm, looking back and forth, not fully understanding what he’d just stepped into.
But I understood perfectly.
I’d finally touched the real nerve. Exposed the Valentina she tried so hard to hide behind controlled speeches and stubborn strength.
I leaned back in my chair, satisfied—my anger still burning, now edged with something perverse.
“Ms. Muniz, please…” the mayor stammered, trying to calm her. “Perhaps we can continue the conversation more peacefully—”
Valentina realized her slip and sat back down, forcing herself to breathe and regain her composure. But her eyes still burned on me—ferocious, defiant.
I adjusted in my chair, enjoying the small victory.
“I believe we’ve discussed everything we needed to for today,” I announced, watching her closely. “It was… illuminating.”
She didn’t answer aloud. She didn’t have to. Her stare said it clearly: this wasn’t over.
And no—no, it wasn’t.
Because I didn’t want it to be.
I rose calmly, straightened my jacket, and walked toward the door at an unhurried pace. Before I stepped out, I turned back one last time and looked at Valentina with hard, implacable certainty.
“I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other again very soon, Ms. Muniz.”
“Count on it, Mr. Ferrara,” she replied, low and controlled—every syllable loaded with an implied threat.
“Sooner than you think,” I said.
And I left the room with the faintest hint of a smile.
