I was about to ask Valentina Muniz to marry me again.
Not for love.
For survival.
And no matter the personal cost—
I would not let everything I built burn to the ground.
TWENTY-SIX
VALENTINA MUNIZ
I stood at the living room window, watching the street like it might give me a warning.
My fingers clenched the lapels of my robe so tightly the fabric twisted in my hands. Ever since Enrico called—ever since he said he was coming with adefinitive solution—time had started slipping through my fingers in a way I couldn’t control.
Something in his voice had sent a chill through me. Not anger. Not even contempt.
Certainty.
That was what terrified me the most.
When the dark car stopped in front of my house, I forced myself to breathe. Once. Twice. Like air could make me stronger. Like it could keep my knees from shaking.
Enrico stepped out immediately—tall, sharp, dressed like the world belonged to him—and crossed the small garden with determined steps.
Before he could touch the doorbell, I opened the door.
Our eyes met.
“You said you had a solution,” I murmured, crossing my arms in a defensive posture that didn’t come close to covering what I felt. “I’m listening.”
He walked in without asking, as if permission was a formality beneath him. The way he filled the space—claimed it—was painfully familiar.
“I’ll be direct, Valentina,” he said, voice firm, almost clinical. “The scandal is out of control. Investors are backing out. Ferrara Corp is exposed.” His gaze flicked over my face like a cold assessment. “And based on what I’ve seen—and what my sources confirm—this situation isn’t exactly treating you kindly either.”
I didn’t blink.
“And what is your miraculous solution?”
He hesitated for a fraction of a second—so brief it was almost nothing.
Then he said it.
“A marriage.”
The word hit like a blunt object to the chest.
He lifted a hand before I could explode.
“A marriage of convenience,” he added, tone unchanged. “Public. Immediate. Unquestionable.”
A bitter laugh tore out of me before I could stop it.
“A marriage?” I snapped, fury rising fast. “You have to be out of your mind. After what you did to me—after everything—you stand here and say that with a straight face?”
His gray eyes narrowed. Cold. Calculating.
