Celina’s smile vanished.

She stared at the phone screen, the glow of César’s name pulsing beside the new message notification. Her hands went cold for a moment, but she drew in a steady breath before opening it.

> “We need to talk.”

She let out a sharp sigh, shaking her head.

“We have nothing to talk about, César,” she muttered to herself.

Without hesitation, she deleted the message. She wouldn’t let him shake her again.

Meanwhile, night had fallen over São Paulo. In the high-rise office of one of the city’s most imposing towers, César sat behind his sleek mahogany desk, signing papers with mechanical precision — an attempt to drown the anger burning inside him. Hatred for Celina consumed him. She had ignored him. He wasn’t used to being ignored — least of all by her.

The door burst open with a violent crash.

“You have got to be kidding me, César!” Isabela stormed in, her voice sharp and furious.

Without lifting his eyes from the papers, he replied, his tone flat and bored:

“Isabela,