The night advanced over São Paulo, and the rain that had been falling since the afternoon intensified, turning streets into rivers and uprooting trees. The city seemed to give in to the fury of the storm, while inside Arthur’s penthouse, another kind of tempest unfolded—silent, emotional, intimate.Zoe watched the water stream down the guest room’s glass walls. The wind struck hard, making the windows tremble. She was alone. And full of regret.How could she have said she had no preference about where to go? If she had been firm, she would be in her own apartment now—far from Arthur, far from the whirlwind of emotions he stirred inside her and that she struggled so hard to control.Memories rang like an endless doorbell. She had refused to have dinner with him, and when the housekeeper had come to call her, her answer had been curt. But Arthur, stubborn as always, had asked Cleide to bring dinner to her anyway, along with one of his sweaters and instructions on where to find towels an

Arthur called out for Zoe, his voice still heavy with sleep, searching for her with his eyes.Silence.He grabbed his phone from the nightstand and called Cleide.“Cleide, is Zoe in the kitchen?” he asked, anxiety already tightening his chest.“No, sir. She left early. She was gone before I even started preparing breakfast. She said she needed to go home,” Cleide replied cautiously.Arthur hung up without another word. He called Zoe. Once. Twice. Three times. No answer.On the fourth attempt, a notification appeared—a message from her. Taking a deep breath, he opened it:“Arthur, I’m sorry for leaving without telling you. I need some time. My head is a mess. Please let me breathe for a while.”Arthur read the words again and again. He tossed the phone onto the bed in frustration, his chest tight, his breathing heavy. He knew that night had shaken them both—but he hadn’t expected her to run like that.Meanwhile, on the other side of the city, Zoe paced back and forth in her apartment.

A week had passed since that intense dawn between Zoe and Arthur, yet she had not reached out to him. As much as something inside her screamed for his presence, her pride and the open wounds still spoke louder. Zoe felt torn. The longing came in waves, especially when her hands instinctively touched her still-subtle belly, reminding her of the child she carried.Even after asking him to give her space, Arthur had not gone a single day without sending a message. Always respectful, affectionate—sometimes just wishing her a good workday or saying how eager he was to meet the baby. It only broke Zoe’s heart more, because every word showed how hard he was trying.Zoe was buried in reports in Thor’s company office. Work had become her escape valve so she wouldn’t lose her mind to her own feelings.The office phone rang.“Zoe, there’s a woman here at reception asking to speak with you,” the receptionist said.“Who is it?” Zoe asked, frowning.“She said her name is Sabrina.”Zoe’s blood went

Arthur felt the world come to a halt.The image before him was as unexpected as it was painfully desired.Zoe was there.Her eyes were wet with tears, her expression fragile, her hands trembling slightly as she held the handle of the suitcase beside her. Her hair fell in disheveled waves over her shoulders, betraying her exhaustion. Her breathing was shallow, as if she needed to draw courage from the air itself just to be there.No words were spoken at first.She simply looked at him.Tears began to slide slowly down Zoe’s cheeks, and Arthur, faced with that sight, felt the ground vanish beneath him. He blinked slowly, as if trying to be sure it was real. His heart pounded so loudly it seemed to echo through the entire room. His hands tightened around the arms of the wheelchair. He could barely breathe.“Zoe…” he murmured, his voice breaking, his gaze locked on her.She took a step forward. Still silent.And then, in a choked, almost inaudible voice, she replied,“Arthur…”Her body tr

The next evening, São Paulo was wrapped in a cool, gentle breeze that danced through the trees of the upscale neighborhood where the imposing Ferraz mansion stood. The sky was clear, dotted with shy stars. Inside the car, Arthur drove attentively, even though his eyes occasionally drifted to the woman beside him—Zoe.She kept her hands folded over her belly, an unconscious gesture of protection. Though still small, the curve was already visible beneath her loose dress. Zoe stared out the window, watching the city lights pass like flashes from a movie reel. It felt strange to think that in less than twenty-four hours, her life had shifted once again.“Nervous?” he asked, breaking the silence.“A little,” she admitted, without taking her eyes off the window. “Your parents don’t even know I’m coming, do they?”“No. I thought it was better to keep it a surprise. They only know I’m having dinner with them.”Zoe looked at him, slightly worried.“And what if it’s a bad surprise?”Arthur smil