Celia wiped her tears in an instant, transforming her pitiful expression into a dazzling smile, the kind meant to seduce and conquer.Her gaze locked onto the man who had just entered: younger, stronger, and far more magnetic than Gilson. The resemblance was unmistakable.It was his son, Christopher Vasconcelos.“Dad, is this your assistant?” Christopher asked, his tone neutral but curious.Gilson chuckled softly, flattered by the insinuation. “No, son. She works for Katrina.”Celia’s lips tightened for a brief moment before she put on her most charming expression again.‘I don’t belong to anyone!’ she thought, forcing her voice into a low, velvety tone. “A pleasure to meet you, Young Master Vasconcelos. I’ve worked here before, but we never had the chance to strengthen our professional ties.”Christopher extended his hand. He didn’t leer, didn’t smirk. His handshake was firm, polite, and disarmingly pure.“OK. It seems you were crying,” he noted.Celia laughed faintly, brushing away

Gilson sat behind his desk, smiling with the satisfied mischief of a boy who had just gotten away with something forbidden. The memory of the previous night still lingered in his mind = Celia’s cries and delirious moans echoing like a soundtrack of sin.They had gone at it until five in the morning, and even now, as the sunlight crept through the blinds, the recollection made him close his eyes with a perverse sense of triumph.“Celia,” he murmured to himself, his voice low and smug. “Your body belongs to me. That’s why Jake threw you away.”The door opened. Claudia stepped in.There was a strange, silent understanding between them. Two people united by appearances, divided by everything else.Gilson had spent the night indulging one of his lovers, and Claudia, on her own, had been equally compromised in another man’s bed.Neither had the courage to ask where the other had been.“Is there a problem, Claudia?” Gilson asked, slipping easily into his role of master pretender.“I just cam

Mark and Briana stood close together against the pale wall of her office. Luana stood across from them, holding up Mark’s phone — a fancy J.J. model, the kind that promised perfect HD and 4K clarity.She didn’t stop to wonder how Mark had managed to afford such a top-tier phone; her only focus was helping her friends deliver their message.“All right, you two,” she said with a bright smile. “Let’s do this.”Mark straightened his shoulders, adopting the calm authority of a man accustomed to addressing an audience. “Hello, everyone. This is Mark Ferro, manager at Glamour Studios. I’m here with my dear wife, our general manager, Briana Vasconcelos Ferro.”Briana rested a gentle hand over her belly, glowing with quiet pride. “Hi, everyone,” she said warmly.Mark’s tone grew somber, heartfelt. “I want to address those who, for whatever reason, believe our shows are corrupting morals or distorting society’s values. We’re truly sorry you feel that way. Our only goal is to entertain.”Briana

At the elegant restaurant where they were practically regulars, Gilson and Claudia sat in their usual corner table, a spot perfectly located between discretion and display. The establishment, known for catering to the refined palates of Braspolis’ upper echelon, was conveniently close to Vasconcelos Company, which made it a favorite lunch escape for the couple.Gilson, however, was distracted. His eyes kept darting toward the entrance, scanning the room for a certain someone.He had hoped to enjoy lunch with Celia and perhaps have her for dessert afterward. But since Celia was currently with Katrina and Patricio, Claudia had seized the chance to drag her husband along instead.Claudia closed her eyes with a sigh of delight as she savored a bite of smoked Calabrese sausage in garlic and herb sauce.“Mmm,” she murmured. “You have to try this, darling.”Gilson, forced into civility, took a forkful and tasted it. But the moment he closed his eyes, the memory that surfaced was far from cul

Ribeiro sat behind his desk at the precinct. Across from him, Christopher Vasconcelos sat with his usual elegance slightly marred by the bandages dotting his face and forearms. His clean-shaven jaw only made the bruises more noticeable.Ribeiro started to talk with Mark on the desk phone, his tone calm but firm. “Mr. Ferro. How are things on your end?”Mark’s voice came through the receiver, tight and weary. “Not great. My pregnant wife fainted when she heard the news.”Ribeiro turned toward Christopher. “Your cousin fainted.”Christopher’s eyes widened, color draining from his face.“Is she all right?” Ribeiro asked into the phone again.“We’re at the hospital,” Mark replied. “She and the baby will be fine.”“That’s good to hear.” Ribeiro’s tone softened. “Young Master Vasconcelos is safe too, at least physically. He’s here with me.”“If he waits for me, I’ll meet him there,” said Mark.“I’ll tell him. Take care, Mr. Ferro.”The call ended. Mark lowered the phone and turned to Luana.