5

The house was submerged in a heavy silence—the kind that comes just before a storm.

The soft sound of a window sliding open jolted Clara awake. She sat up in bed, startled, her heart pounding.

“Clara, it’s me,” a voice whispered from the darkness.

She recognized it instantly. Rafael.

“Rafa? What are you doing here? How did you get in?”

He jumped inside the room with practiced agility, his eyes alert.

“There’s no time to explain. We have to leave. Now.”

“Now? Are you crazy? What kind of joke is this?”

“This isn’t a joke, Clara.” He took her hands, his gaze steady, intense. “Grab your most important things. There’s no time. I swear I’ll explain later—but right now… trust me.”

She froze for a few seconds, trying to make sense of what was happening. But something in his voice made her get up without questioning further. Rafael was serious. Dead serious.

On the other side of the house, Hanna was trapped in restless sleep when she heard a noise at the window.

She turned, eyes still heavy, and widened them in shock as Jessy climbed in like a thief.

“Jessy?! What—how—?!”

“Shhh…” He pressed a finger to his lips, moving quickly toward her. “Get up. Now. We need to get out of here.”

“You have to be kidding. What’s going on?!”

“I’m not kidding. Put something on, grab whatever you can, and come with me. I’ll explain later. Just trust me, Hanna.”

She hesitated, her heart racing. He had never spoken to her like that before. Serious. Tense. Almost desperate. She stood up, feeling the urgency in him, still not understanding—but something inside her said it was now or never.

A few minutes later…

The two girls stood in the backyard, shaken, still trying to process what was happening. Rafael and Jessy were in a hurry, each holding one of them by the hand.

“Where are we going?” Hanna asked, already out of breath.

“Somewhere safe,” Jessy replied.

“Safe from what?” Clara insisted.

Rafael looked at her, and for the first time, let a bit of the tension slip from his shoulders.

“What your father was planning for you isn’t going to happen. We found out… things. But now isn’t the time to talk. First, we get you out of here.”

“And then?” Hanna asked, her voice trembling.

“Then…” Jessy said softly, “we face everything. Together.”

Suddenly, the house lights flicked on, and they all froze for a second. But it was too late to turn back. That night, Clara and Hanna left behind a house that knew only the silence of fear. And even without fully understanding, they knew one thing for certain:

Their lives would never be the same.

The house was silent. The kind of silence Osvaldo loved most—the silence that came before absolute control.

With firm steps, he climbed the stairs, his expression cold and determined, Lúcia following closely behind, observing everything with the detachment of someone who felt absolutely nothing.

“Are you sure about this, Osvaldo?” she whispered, adjusting the strap of her silk nightgown. “Tonight?”

“We can’t wait any longer,” he replied without turning around. “The paperwork is almost ready. Once they disappear, everything will be ours.”

Lúcia said nothing—not out of fear, but out of exhaustion. She was tired of pretending. The mask of the concerned aunt no longer fit. Clara and Hanna… two thorns in her side. Two heirs who were far too alive.

He stopped in front of the first door—Clara’s. Slowly turned the handle and pushed the door open. Streetlight filtered through the curtains, partially illuminating the bed.

Empty.

“She’s not here,” Osvaldo said, unable to hide his irritation.

“She’s probably in the other girl’s room,” Lúcia replied impatiently.

They wasted no time moving to Hanna’s bedroom. Osvaldo flung the door open, nearly ripping it from the frame.

Also empty.

Beds perfectly made. Windows wide open. Curtains swaying in the early-morning wind.

“No…” Lúcia stepped back, disbelief flooding her face. “This can’t be happening.”

“They’re probably up to something. Teenage rebellion… they’ll be back,” Osvaldo snarled. But the tightness in his chest betrayed him. He hadn’t expected this. They had always been obedient. Afraid. Submissive.

“But what if they don’t come back?” Lúcia asked, tension now thick in the air.

“They will. Where else would they go? Who would believe them?” He tried to sound confident, but his voice faltered slightly at the end.

Lúcia stared again at the empty bed, then at the open window. Something was wrong. Very wrong.

“Tomorrow they’ll be back,” she said. “Crying. Like always.”

“Yes,” Osvaldo confirmed. “And when they return, it will be the last time they disobey.”

They stared at each other in silence, then stormed out of the room, slamming the door shut. The house fell silent once more—but the wind rushing through the open windows whispered that something had changed.

And this time, they would not return.

The door closed behind Nathan with a soft click, but the sound echoed in his mind like the end of an era.

He was alone. In the office that had belonged to his father for years. Now it was his. The air felt different—heavier. As if it carried every secret, every decision, every betrayal those walls had witnessed.

The dark wood desk, the worn leather chair, the paintings on the walls… everything seemed to watch his every step.

Nathan walked slowly toward the large window. Outside, buildings rose like concrete giants—imposing. Yet none of them felt as overwhelming as the weight he now carried.

Heir to an empire.

But also heir to distrust, resentment, and a promise he had made to himself: never to be fooled again.

Turning around, his eyes landed on the photo frame still resting on the desk.

Gold trim.

A frozen moment in time.

At his father’s birthday party—a family photo. Him and Helena. His ex-fiancée.

Her smile was wide. Youthful. But now, to him, it was nothing more than a performance. A farce in a white dress.

He had loved her. With everything he had. Planned a future—a lifetime. He had been ready to share the Albuquerque empire with her.

But it hadn’t been enough.

Not for her.

Helena had chosen another man. Older. Richer. More powerful. She hadn’t even bothered to hide it.

When Nathan found out, he was shattered—but it was in silence that he rebuilt himself.

Cold.

Rigid.

Armored.

“Never again,” he murmured.

The words echoed like a silent vow.

Never again would he be swayed by sweet smiles and pretty words.

Never again would he let his heart interfere with business.

Never again would he trust so easily.

Nathan picked up the photo frame, studied it for a few seconds… then, without hesitation, tossed it into the trash.

It was a new day.

A new chapter.

Nathan was still standing when the image of the secretary returned to his mind.

Not the current one.

The demand.

“Keep my secretary. There is no one better suited for the position.”

His father’s voice echoed in his head like an order he refused to accept without question. Harry Albuquerque was not a man of emotional requests. If he said that, there was a reason.

And that alone was dangerous.

Nathan sat slowly behind the desk. Opened the drawer and retrieved the employee file he had requested earlier that morning.

Hanna Roshe.

• Four years with the company

• Started as an intern

• Gradual promotions

• No absences

• No warnings

• Flawless

“Too flawless…” he muttered.

That was exactly what bothered him.

The memory came uninvited. The scandal. The entire company had known. There was no hiding it. Harry Albuquerque’s affair with his former secretary had exploded like a bomb—empty meetings, averted gazes, whispers in the hallways.

Nathan still remembered his mother’s expression when everything came to light. It had scarred him deeply.

And now, years later, his father insisted that another secretary remain at the side of the new CEO.

No.

That was not a coincidence.

Nathan stood abruptly, decision made. He left the office with firm steps and walked down the hallway to the company’s legal department. He knocked once before entering.

“Wasting no time breaking in the new position, cousin,” Thiago said, lifting his eyes from a stack of documents.

Thiago Albuquerque was everything Nathan was not—calm, analytical, patient. The company’s lawyer since a young age, he knew the inner workings better than most.

“I need information,” Nathan said, closing the door behind him. “And I need someone who isn’t afraid to tell the truth.”

Thiago raised an eyebrow.

“About whom?”

Nathan hesitated for a second.

“Hanna Roshe.”

The name made Thiago lean back slightly in his chair.

“I thought so.”

“I want everything. Personal life. Character. History.” Nathan crossed his arms. “My father demanded that she remain as my secretary. And you know what that means to me.”

Thiago took a deep breath before answering.

“Yes. I know what you’re thinking.”

The silence that followed was heavy.

“She has nothing to do with that,” Thiago finally said. “And she never did.”

“Are you sure?” Nathan shot back coldly.

“Absolutely,” Thiago replied without hesitation. “Hanna joined the company as an intern after the scandal. Precisely to avoid any association.”

Nathan frowned.

“Then why does my father trust her so much?”

Thiago opened a folder and slid several documents across the desk.

“Because she’s never given a single reason for doubt. Never got involved with anyone in the company. Never used the Albuquerque name as a stepping stone. She works harder than any employee I know.”

“And her personal life?”

“Private,” Thiago answered. “Too private, actually. She doesn’t talk about her past. Doesn’t receive visitors. Lives for her work.”

Nathan fell silent, absorbing every word.

“If you’re looking for an opportunist,” Thiago continued, “it’s not her.”

“Then why do I feel like there’s something I’m not seeing?” Nathan murmured.

Thiago looked at him seriously.

“Maybe because you’re seeing your father’s past reflected in someone who doesn’t deserve it.”

The words hit Nathan hard.

He stepped away from the desk, taking a deep breath.

“I’ll keep her—for now,” he said finally. “But I’ll be watching. Every detail.”

Thiago nodded.

“Just be careful not to confuse distrust with injustice.”

Nathan opened the door, already leaving.

“Don’t worry,” he replied without looking back. “I learned too early what happens when you trust.”

The door closed.

And on the other side, Nathan’s curiosity about Hanna Roshe had just turned into something far more dangerous: interest.