LOGINFive years after losing everything—her love, her name, and her son—Helena Rodrigues rises from the ashes, determined to take revenge on those who destroyed her life. But fate is cruel: the boy she saves by chance is the son of Henrique Ballmer, the most powerful (and dangerous) man in São Paulo. Amid buried truths, forbidden passions, and bleeding secrets, Helena will discover that her greatest enemy... may be the man who makes her heart beat again. And that love—like revenge—can be deadly.
View More“Dr. Jorge asked you to come back next week for your prenatal appointment, okay?”
Helena took the papers and forced a smile, her heart pounding—not just for the baby, but for something that had been tormenting her since dawn.
Edward was coming back that night.
After months away in the United States, he would finally set foot on Brazilian soil, and with him... all the memories, all the secrets would return.
The sun beat down on the hospital courtyard. Helena walked out slowly, one hand on her waist, the other trying to hail a taxi. But before she could, the sound of tires screeching on the asphalt made her body freeze.
A black sports car stopped abruptly in front of her.
A woman in a pink dress, clinging to her body as if it had been tailor-made for sin, got out of the door.
Her high heels echoed on the ground—dry, threatening.
“Camila! Have you gone mad?” Helena exclaimed, her heart racing.
Camila smiled. A slow, poisonous smile.
She crossed her arms, her sharp gaze shining with cruel pleasure.
“Crazy?” she sneered. “You're the crazy one, thinking you can fool everyone with that belly. A bastard, Helena. A damn bastard.”
Helena instinctively protected her womb.
“Camila, don't go too far...”
“Too far?” she laughed, tilting her head sarcastically. “You're the one who went too far.” You slept with some man, got pregnant, and now you want to drag the child into Edward's life? How pathetic.
“That's a lie!” Helena's voice trembled, between hatred and fear. “You've completely lost your mind!”
Camila approached. Her perfume, sweet and suffocating, poisoned the air.
“Do you still believe that the man that night was Edward?” she whispered, leaning dangerously close. “You, who grew up with him... didn't even recognize his body?”
Helena paled. The touch. The voice. The heat. The memories came like lightning, fragmented, painful.
Camila smiled, savoring her rival's despair.
“Want to know the truth? I put something in your drink. Just a little... enough to make you more... loose.” She laughed, a cold sound that pierced the air. “Two men were in the wrong place at the right time. And you, Helena... walked into the wrong room. Edward only lied out of pity.”
Helena staggered. Her soul broke silently.
“Why, Camila...?” she whispered, her voice breaking. “Why destroy what was left of me?”
For a moment, Camila seemed satisfied. But then her gaze changed. Helena followed the movement... and saw.
Edward.
Tall, elegant, his gaze like ice under the sun.
His presence alone was enough to take anyone's breath away.
Camila ran to him, pretending to cry.
“Sister... if you want to hate me, that's fine. Just don't blame Edward, please...”
And then, with theatrical perfection, she fell—as if she had been pushed.
“Helena!” His voice cut through the air like a blade. “What have you done?!”
Helena was paralyzed.
Edward walked past her without hesitation and knelt beside Camila, touching her face tenderly.
The same tenderness that once belonged to Helena.
Camila sniffed, trembling.
“It's my fault... I just wanted to fix everything...”
Edward helped her up, cold and determined.
“Enough. Get in the car, Camila. I'll take care of this.”
Helena tried to speak, but the words wouldn't come out.
The world was spinning.
And when he spoke again, his voice seemed to come from a distant place.
“Helena, I tried. I swear I tried.
But what happened... changed everything. I can't marry you.”
She looked at him, her heart breaking.
“Edward... you knew all along? You knew she was the one who drugged me? Who destroyed me? And even so... you made me believe it was you?”
His silence was worse than any answer, and the wind blew, lifting Helena's hair.
Inside her, the baby moved—as if it could feel the pain the world had just inflicted on it.
“Helena, Camila didn't mean any harm...” Edward murmured, his voice cold and distant. “She was young. Impulsive.”
Helena stared at him, incredulous.
“And me?!” The pain exploded in her voice. “Did you think about me? Even for a second?”
The silence that followed was deafening.
More cruel than any words.
For a moment, Edward took a deep breath and stepped forward.
He tried to touch her shoulder—a hesitant, almost mechanical gesture.
“The sun is too strong... let's go home, Helena.”
She recoiled sharply.
Her eyes blazed, and her voice shattered the air like glass.
“Don't touch me!”
Anger mixed with pain, and suddenly Helena began to laugh.
Laugh loudly.
Laugh like someone who had gone mad.
Tears streamed down her face, hot and salty, while the sound of her own laughter turned into stifled sobs.
At that moment, she understood.
Her life was a cruel joke.
She had spent years trying to be perfect. She moved cities to be close to Edward, studied until she collapsed from exhaustion, gave up her dreams, her friends, her very identity.
She enrolled in the second-best university in the country — just to be where he was.
She abandoned her adoptive parents to please the cold and arrogant Rodrigues family. She did everything... and received only one sentence:
“I can't disappoint Camy.”
Camila.
The same woman who stole everything from her:
her biological parents, her name, her position... and now, the man she loved.
Camila was “young and impulsive.” So did her mistakes deserve forgiveness?
And who would forgive Helena? Who would pay for the future that had been stolen from her?
For the nightmare she was living awake — pregnant by a man she didn't even know?
The tears fell heavily.
Helena covered her face, her body shaking in despair.
Edward took a step forward, his face worried — but she turned, staggering, and began to walk without looking back.
“Helena!” he called.
She didn't answer.
She looked like a ghost walking aimlessly, crossing the street with an empty stare.
Edward threw his cigarette on the ground and took a step forward.
But before he could run after her, a soft—and cold—hand grabbed his sleeve.
Camila.
“Edward... where are you going?” she whispered, with that feigned sweetness he knew so well.
It was just a second.
A damn second of hesitation.
The sound of the impact cut through the air like thunder.
Helena was thrown into the air, her fragile body spinning in the sun before falling heavily onto the asphalt.
For a moment, the world stopped.
Edward's scream echoed, tearing through the silence.
“HELENA!”
He ran, desperate, his face overcome with panic.
And for the first time, the man who had always been in control... lost his footing completely.
“If we pool all our private savings, liquidate some quick investments, and ask for favors... we can somehow come up with that amount!” Tania murmured, cold sweat dripping down her forehead.In particular, the agent was terrified. That hacker hadn't chosen a random number. Eight million was exactly the maximum amount they could raise in 24 hours without having to declare bankruptcy or expose the situation. Whoever was on the other side knew them intimately, playing with them like a cat plays with a mouse.At that moment, Camila, feeling despair scratch her throat, had a sudden idea:“Since the other party managed to track our information...” She clenched her teeth, her eyes bloodshot. “Why can't we do the same? Hire someone! Track down that bastard's IP address now!”Tania shook her head, laughing almost hysterically at the actress's ignorance.“Camila, do you think an anonymous encrypted account in
— That's true. In the entertainment industry, for an artist with such a dirty record, the consequences will be no less severe than they were for Sabrina. She's dead to the market. It will be useless to try to clean up that reputation now! — Tania relaxed her shoulders, feeling the sweet taste of victory, as if a weight had been lifted from her back. “By the way, I just sent an email giving Helena a formal ultimatum. If she doesn't show up at the company by six o'clock tomorrow afternoon to kneel and beg for a public apology, we'll blacklist her in the industry. I doubt that coward will dare not to show up!”Camila smiled broadly, her eyes shining with sadistic cruelty.“Remember to bribe and assign more reporters to wait for her at the door! I want flashes on that crying bitch's face!”She was at the height of her glory, about to respond to messages of support from her deluded fans about the “serious condition” of
“Really? What did you say?” Helena asked immediately, curiosity shining in her eyes.Henrique Ballmer, with the calmness of someone who had just decided the fate of an empire, picked up his cell phone and opened his email inbox to show her.Helena quickly approached, his woodsy scent invading her senses, and craned her neck to take a look.She was speechless when she saw the screen.— ...Apart from the heavy files containing irrefutable evidence and the number of an encrypted Swiss bank account, the body of the email contained only a few words. No greetings. No long-winded threats. No unnecessary punctuation.Just the absolute coldness of the numbers:[8 million. 24 hours.]That was... totally Henrique Ballmer's style. Surgical. Lethal. Arrogant.Helena blinked, processing the elegant brutality of it.“Not bad... not bad at all,” she murmured, a smile of approval appearing on her lips. “The less you say, the more her imagination will fill in the gaps with terror. She'll panic complet
As she spoke, she took a closer look at herself. Without the “armor” of heavy makeup and high heels, wearing only a huge cardigan over her hospital gown, her hair tied back in a loose braid with the pink rhinestone clip Mateo had given her... she looked like a different person.Her expression in the mirror was, in fact, soft, clear, and refined. There was a light in her eyes that she hadn't seen in years.Damn! Helena was surprised at herself. Have I really become a “kind” girl? Living with this family is softening my heart of stone.At that moment, after hearing Helena's self-criticism, Mateo frowned. He let go of her hand, quickly took a small pocket notebook and a gold pen out of his coat. He lowered his head, scribbled furiously for a few seconds, and then urgently held the notebook right in front of her face.“Honey, what are you trying to say?”Helena took the notebook. As she read what wa












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