“Is this the father you want your daughter to have?”
And then he was gone.
The door closed behind him, leaving me alone with my thoughts again.
A few minutes later, the doorbell rang.
I frowned.
I’d known exactly who would call that late.
But I had no idea who would show up at my door.
I’d already dismissed the staff for the night. Irritated, I shoved back from the desk, crossed the hall, descended the stairs, and headed for the front door with heavy steps—ready to unload my frustration on whoever had dared interrupt me again.
I yanked the door open.
And the air left my lungs in a violent rush.
Valentina stood there.
Her dark eyes burned, dangerous and bright. Her hands were curled into fists. Her face was lit with a fury I hadn’t seen since our last explosive encounter.
For a few endless seconds, we froze in absolute silence, staring at each other like the air between us had turned electric.
Then she spoke—steady, furious—and every muscle in my body tightened instinctively.
“What the hell is wrong with you?”
The question hung between us—raw, direct, packed with as much pain as anger. Valentina was trembling, but it wasn’t fear.
It was pure rage.
Deep and shining in her eyes.
I stepped forward without hesitation, invading her space.
“Myproblem?” I growled, low. “You show up at my door after everything you’ve done, and you have the nerve to ask me what my problem is, Valentina?”
She lifted her chin, refusing to back up even though I was dangerously close.
“Everything I’ve done?” she spat, bitterness slicing through every syllable. “You destroyed my life, Enrico. Twice.” Her voice shook, but she didn’t break. “Was humiliating me in front of your guests at the altar not enough? Was calling me a liar and abandoning me while I was pregnant not enough? Now you want to take my daughter from me? Have you completely lost your mind?”
My blood boiled, my fists clenching so hard I had to fight the urge to break something.
“Our daughter,” I snapped back, anger edging into control only by force. “That child is as much mine as she is yours. You had no right to hide her from me for five years.”
She let out a bitter laugh, dripping with contempt.
“No right?” She leaned in, eyes blazing. “You discarded me like I was trash long before that, Enrico. You made it very clearin that church—in front of everyone—that you wanted nothing to do with me or anything connected to me. How was I supposed to believe you’d accept Clara? That you’d love her—or even respect her?” Her voice turned sharp, cutting. “All you know how to do is destroy, humiliate, and hurt. I wasn’t giving you the chance to do that to my daughter.”
I stepped closer, closing the distance until we were breathing the same air, my gaze locked on hers with an intensity that made my heart slam against my ribs.
“She’s my daughter too,” I said through clenched teeth. “You stole five years of her life from me. You stole everything.”
“And you stole far more from me,” she shot back—and stepped forward so sharply we were nearly colliding. Too close. Our breaths mixing, hot and fast. “You stole my dreams, my family, my dignity.” Her voice broke on the edge of fury. “You have no idea what I had to survive alone. You can’t imagine what it felt like explaining to my child why her father wasn’t there.”
My throat tightened painfully.
