If the world wanted a spectacular reconciliation, it would get one.
On my terms.
Revenge was still within reach.
And I intended to make it much sweeter.
***
Dawn had barely broken when I was standing in front of Valentina’s house, jaw rigid, heart pounding with sharp, angry focus.
Sleep hadn’t been an option.
I’d spent the entire night calculating every move needed to regain control.
I took a breath before ringing the doorbell, schooling my expression into something firm, cold, final.
The door opened.
Valentina stood there—surprised, wary—wearing comfortable clothes, hair loose and tousled like she’d just gotten out of bed.
For one brief, irritating second, my mind registered how beautiful she looked like that.
A trap.
Soft. Natural. Disarming.
Her face still carried the strain of the hearing and the scandal, but none of it dulled how infuriatingly attractive she was.
“Enrico… what are you doing here this early?” she asked, voice rough with sleep, eyes immediately alert.
“We need to talk,” I said flatly, already stepping inside. “It’s urgent.”
She closed the door behind me and crossed her arms.
“I assume this is about the scandal,” she said coldly. “I didn’t think you’d have the nerve to show up here after everything.”
“Believe me, I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t absolutely necessary.”
“And what exactly do you expect to get by coming here?” Her voice was sharp, full of hurt. “Haven’t you done enough? Was humiliating me publiclyagainnot enough for you?”
I clenched my teeth, forcing my temper down.
“I’m not here to fight,” I said, carefully controlled. “We need to fix this—now—before it spins completely out of control.”
She laughed without humor.
“And since when do you care about that? Aren’t you the one who controls everything?”
“If I did,” I shot back bluntly, “I wouldn’t be standing here.”
That honesty startled her for a split second.
“The scandal is bigger than I expected,” I continued. “We need to act immediately.”
“Act how?” she asked, suspicious, rigid.
I inhaled, knowing she wouldn’t like this.
