In the late afternoon, at the secluded Beach House, Nathan sat slouched on the couch, furiously tapping on his phone, his face tight with frustration and his aura radiating danger. He typed feverishly, his thumbs practically stabbing the screen.“Dear followers: given recent events, I hereby announce that I am no longer the agent managing the career of my father, Vicente Gouveia. As of now, I am cutting all family ties. No questions. I’ll share more when I feel like it.”With a sharp exhale, he hurled the phone aside and buried his face in his hands, his whole body curling inward with helplessness. A few seconds passed before he sat upright again, more composed, his fingers stroking his chin in thought.In a flash of memory, he saw Gustavo’s backpack lying innocently on the bed in his room.A crooked smile crept onto Nathan’s lips as a twisted idea began to form.“So I’m the son of Paulina Alvares... and the brother of a guy who sells drugs. What will the Alvares family do when I retu

At the Beach House, a soft samba ringtone suddenly broke the silence, making Bella freeze. Her breath caught in her throat, and Nathan, sitting nearby, immediately noticed her discomfort.“What is it?” he asked, watching her closely.“That ringtone... it’s from my mom,” Bella said quietly, eyes fixed on the phone.Nathan’s expression darkened instantly. “Don’t answer it!” he snapped. “I don’t recognize that woman as my mother!”Bella stared at the screen until the call went to voicemail, then exhaled slowly. “Nate,” she said calmly, “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t insult our mother.”Nathan scoffed, his tone sharp and bitter. “You don’t expect me to just accept this overnight, do you?”“I’m not inviting you to Sunday’s barbecue,” Bella replied evenly. “But this is the reality presenting itself to you.”He inhaled deeply, trying to center himself. “Yeah. I get it. I always had a feeling. Andreia always seemed to be against me when I was fighting hardest to become president of the cong

In the Beach House, an uncomfortable silence settled between Bella and Nathan as Paulina’s phone calls kept coming in, relentless and insistent. Nathan, exasperated, gestured for Bella to bring the phone closer to him.“Paulina? Can you hear me?” he said into the device.Paulina nearly stumbled into the sofa, startled to finally hear her son’s voice.“Nathan! Finally, I need to talk to you!” she exclaimed, breathless.Nathan’s voice was cold, wounded. “Don’t call me ‘son.’ You never dared to do it all these years.”“That’s exactly what we need to talk about. Son — your father and I, we made an agreement...”“You two should’ve taken the money my dad probably gave you and disappeared from this city! Why the hell did you stay in the slums?” Nathan shot back, unable to hide his resentment.Paulina’s voice cracked. “It’s... complicated, Nathan...”“No, it’s not. You blew the money on barbecues and booze — typical behavior from poor people who don’t know how to save or invest, right?”“We n

Nathan stood alone in the living room of the Beach House, holding Gustavo’s backpack. His fingers sifted through its contents, and a sly, mischievous grin crept across his face as he imagined the repercussions of what he had just discovered.“If Paulina insists on building a family bond with me,” he murmured to himself, “I might just have to tell her how my ‘older brother’ really behaves.”A sharp knock on the door broke his train of thought.“Who is it?” he called, startled.“Nathan, we need to talk,” came Ernesto’s voice from the other side.Nathan frowned, zipping the backpack closed and quickly shoving it under the couch.As he walked to the door and opened it, Ernesto entered without waiting for an invitation.“Alright, young man,” Ernesto said, his tone firm and unsympathetic. “You’ve had your dramatic moment. Time to return to reality and face things as they are.”Nathan’s eyes widened in offense. “How dare you?” he snapped. “How am I supposed to face reality when no one tells

Thursday. Matthew and Elaine lay in the bed of their suite, peacefully asleep, untouched by the burdens of his role as president of the conglomerate — or her role as the president’s wife. Their breathing was synchronized, serene.Suddenly, both their phones buzzed simultaneously with alarm tones, breaking the calm.In near-perfect unison, they stretched as if it were choreographed, reaching to silence the persistent noise.Matthew sat up first, leaning against the headboard, eyes fixed on the curtain-dimmed sunlight streaming through the tall windows. Elaine remained in bed, gazing at the ceiling, her mind already drifting to the day ahead.“Good morning, darling,” Matthew said, his voice still thick with sleep.“Good morning, Matt,” she replied softly.“What are your plans for the day?”Elaine let out a small, amused laugh. Plans? The word felt almost absurd.“I don’t have any plans today,” she admitted.Matthew reached over, his left hand resting gently on her shoulder. “How about c