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 abou