I nodded once and motioned for the team to leave. They stood immediately, gathered their things in silence, and filed out fast. The door closed with a click that felt almost ominous.
“What is it?” I asked, impatience sharp.
André stepped forward, placed the tablet on my desk, and slid it toward me.
A headline screamed up at me from the screen:
“Ferrara Corp CEO in legal battle over secret daughter: Is Dreamland driven by personal revenge?”
It felt like the floor dropped out from under me.
My jaw locked as anger surged, fast and violent, while I scanned the article.
Photos of Valentina and me outside the courthouse splashed across the page—our faces tense, raw, exposed. The text didn’t just imply; it outright suggested that Dreamland was retaliation against Valentina, dredging up our past with near-sensational detail.
Including the public rejection I’d imposed on her five years ago.
“How did this leak?” I asked through clenched teeth.
André exhaled, clearly uncomfortable.
“Someone inside the courthouse broke the seal. They’re investigating, but that’s the least of our problems right now. The board knows. Shareholders are calling nonstop. This is a serious crisis, Enrico. We need to act—now.”
“Damn it,” I muttered, fighting the urge to smash something. “It’s all lies. Manipulation. This needs to be shut down immediately.”
I grabbed my phone and checked the notifications.
I didn’t need more than a second to understand the scale of the damage.
The moment I took it off Do Not Disturb, it started vibrating relentlessly—alerts stacking, calls pouring in.
Lawyers. Board members. Executives. Investors.
Everyone wanted answers.
I looked at André, searching for something—guidance, certainty—but found only exhaustion and worry.
“Don’t answer anyone yet,” he said quietly. “We need to think before responding. One wrong move right now will make this worse.”
I clenched my jaw, fighting the infuriating sense of powerlessness clawing at me.
This was spiraling beyond my control.
And I hated it.
“Shit,” I muttered, closing my eyes for a second and forcing my breathing steady.
André sat across from me.
“We have to move fast, Enrico. We can’t let this destroy the company’s reputation—or everything you’ve built.”
I opened my eyes and fixed him with a hard stare.
“So what are you suggesting?” I asked, my tone sharp, defensive.
He hesitated, choosing his words carefully.
“We need a radical shift in the narrative. Something that flips public opinion—shows maturity, responsibility.” He paused. “The only thing that can do that now is turning this conflict into a public reconciliation.”
