And for the first time since Enrico came back into my life, I realized something I hadn’t been willing to face:
I could lose her.
Not just everything I’d built—my daughter too.
The one thing I would not survive losing.
Enrico had declared war.
And I had to learn how to fight.
Because if I lost…
there wouldn’t be anything left of me when it was over.
NINETEEN
ENRICO FERRARA
It was late.
The clock on the wall behind my desk read nearly midnight, and still I couldn’t force myself out of that damn chair. The hours crawled by, dissolving into photos, documents, reports—and the inevitable whiskey glass I kept turning between my fingers like it was the only thing tethering me to control.
In front of me, the custody petition I’d filed against Valentina stared back like a silent taunt. Spread across my desk, photos of Clara—from infancy to just weeks ago—were a constant, brutal reminder of everything I’d lost.
Five years of life.
Five years of memories I’d been denied because of Valentina and her lies.
My grip tightened around the glass, knuckles whitening as I stared at one photo in particular: Clara as a baby, sleeping peacefully in Valentina’s arms.
It was almost unbearable.
A disturbing blend of something I would’ve given anything to live… and something I could never reach now, no matter how much money or power I had.
The pain of that loss grew more suffocating every time I spent time with my daughter.
But worse than the pain was the rage—the steady burn that rose in me whenever I thought of Valentina.
She stole that from me.
She stole my child.
My jaw clenched—and before I could fall deeper into the spiral, my phone buzzed hard on the desk.
I didn’t need to look at the screen to know who was calling at this hour.
“Eloá,” I answered, flat.
“Your recent actions have been quite disappointing, Enrico.”
My grandmother’s voice cut through the line with no preamble. Direct. Cold. Sharp as ever—only this time there was an extra edge of irritation I recognized immediately.
“Good evening to you too, Nonna,” I shot back, sarcasm sharp. “What exactly is displeasing you this time?”
She released a clipped breath.
“You have always had a weakness for that woman,” she said. “Five years ago you nearly let everything collapse because of her. Do not make the same mistake twice. I don’t like the direction this is taking.”
