Mark, Briana, and Nadir walked together in the parking lot of Braspolis General Hospital toward Briana’s car.“My car’s in another spot,” Mark said, his voice low and tired.“I’ll drive Mom home,” Briana replied. “I want to stay close to Grandma, in case there’s any news.”Mark nodded, a warm understanding in his eyes. “I get it, Brie. Give Althea my best, will you?”“Thank you, Mark,” Nadir added gently.Mark leaned in and kissed Briana on the cheek before walking off toward his sleek Lamborghini Urus.******Back inside the hospital lounge, the atmosphere remained gloomy despite the thinning crowd. Now only Sandro, Katrina, and Claudia were left. The silence felt heavier without the others to buffer the sharp edges of the room’s emotional air.Sandro helped himself to a cup of coffee, only to discover that he’d poured the last one.“It’s out,” he announced.“Of course you had to be the one to finish it,” Katrina snapped, her voice bitter.Sandro turned toward his niece, unamused. “I

Inside the Braspolis General Hospital lounge, the storm between Claudia and Sandro was palpable. They were alone, and it was time for the truth to be laid bare.“You’re never going to let that go, are you?" Claudia asked, her voice tight with barely controlled fury.Sandro didn’t answer right away. Instead, he offered her a malicious smile.Out in the hallway, Katrina returned, carrying a plastic cup of coffee she had managed to find somewhere else in the hospital. She was smiling, still pleased with herself after contacting Lawrence.But as she reached the lounge doorway, she heard Sandro’s voice clearly from within.“No,” he said. “I’ll never forget that I saw you first.”Katrina froze in place, her eyes wide as she processed what she had just heard. She remained still, choosing to eavesdrop further.From inside the lounge, Claudia’s voice answered coldly. “You may have seen me first, but your brother was the one who made a move.”Sandro’s smirk faded. Claudia, however, began to smi

Outside the grand Vasconcelos Mansion, under the dim light of night, Claudia and Katrina approached the front entrance while a uniformed employee drove Katrina’s car to the garage.Suddenly, Katrina’s phone rang, breaking the stillness.Claudia let out a weary sigh. “Who’s calling at this hour, dear?”Katrina rolled her eyes and rummaged through her purse. Her expression shifted to one of shock when she saw the caller ID: Lawrence Sodré. She hadn’t expected that.“Mom,” she said, surprised, “Lawrence Sodré is calling me. I sent him a message earlier.”Claudia smiled faintly. “Oh, how nice. He must be calling to check on your father.”Katrina, gesturing toward the house, replied, “Go ahead inside. I’ll take the call out here.”Claudia didn’t need to be told twice and disappeared inside.Katrina remained on the front steps and answered the call, uncertain.“Hello?”Lawrence’s voice came through, cold and insistent. “I’m still here. We need to talk.”Katrina’s eyes widened even more. Som

Over at the Sodré Mansion, in Lawrence’s study, the atmosphere couldn’t have been more different.Lawrence entered first, followed closely by his “client,” Ryan Ribas. Both men looked deeply troubled.Despite being alone, Ryan turned and quietly closed the door.“We’re alone,” Lawrence said flatly.“And your butler?” Ryan asked cautiously.Lawrence exhaled with growing impatience. “I don’t have a butler. Precisely to avoid involving anyone — or putting myself at risk.”They both sat in green velvet armchairs, their expressions tense.“Mr. Sodré,” Ryan began gravely, “we’re in a pickle.”Lawrence arched a brow, clearly irritated by the phrasing. “Interesting choice of words.”Ryan ignored the comment. “First, two of our clubs were shut down. Now the manager who was supposed to head to the Serra’s branch hasn’t checked in.”Lawrence clenched his jaw. “You’re not suggesting—”“I’m afraid someone might’ve followed him,” Ryan said nervously. “The same person — or people — who’ve been cripp

It was late at night in Mark’s office at the Ferro House. The heavy silence was pierced by laughter — Mark Ferro’s, as he leaned back in his chair, amused by the bewildered expressions on the usually stoic faces of Vargas and Regis, his most trusted, hardened collaborators."You two look like a pair of gossipy old ladies shocked by the latest scandal," Mark teased, his voice dripping with irony.Vargas and Regis cleared their throats, clearly embarrassed, scrambling to regain their composure.“Ahem... Lord Ferro,” Regis began, “forgive us, but the information is rather shocking.”“And why do you think that is?” Vargas asked, genuinely curious.Mark’s eyes sharpened with a calculating gleam. “I was at Sweet Aroma Café when I overheard a conversation between Ryan Ribas and Ivan — the manager of the Red House. That’s when I messaged you, Vargas, and asked for Rubem to tail him. Ryan made it very clear: their boss isn’t happy and won’t fund any more clubs if the police keep shutting them