Are you gay?

“Helena, if my brother were gay, where do you think Mateo would have come from?”

Helena blinked, completely serious.

“Well... surrogate mother? Artificial insemination? Just to continue the family legacy?”

Axel laughed even louder, doubling over with laughter. “If he were gay, why would he want to ‘repay’ you with marriage?”

“To cover up his true sexual orientation? That way, with a wife and child, no one could say anything.” Helena replied in a sweet, innocent tone... but every word was a stab at the masculinity of the man in front of her.

Henrique stood up slowly, and the air seemed to grow thicker.

Each step he took echoed in the room like the sound of a predator approaching its prey.

His long legs, his dark gaze, his stiff jaw—everything about him exuded restrained danger.

“Axel.” His voice was low, sharp. “Take Mateo outside.”

“Henrique... what are you going to do?” asked his brother, with a mixture of apprehension and amusement.

Henrique stopped in front of the bed, and his cold gaze fixed on Helena.

“I'm going to prove my sexual orientation to Miss Rodrigues.”

The world stopped.

Helena swallowed hard and froze for a second. In the next, her survival instinct took over.

She jumped out of bed, tripped over the sheets, and hid behind Mateo's crib—as if the little boy could protect her from a hungry lion.

“M-Mr. Ballmer!” she stammered, raising her hands. “I didn't start any of this! I just repeated what I heard around!

Henrique took a step, and she took another back.

”Besides, you don't have to thank me!“ she continued, rushing her words. ”And if you want me to make a request, I ask that you please don't ask me for another one! But now I have to go, and we can talk about this... in another century!

She blurted out the sentence and ran to the door. But she had barely taken two steps when his cold voice sounded behind her—deep, irresistibly authoritative:

“Did I allow you to leave, Miss Rodrigues?”

Helena froze, and her legs began to tremble.

The sound of his footsteps filled the room.

Then... he reached out his hand. She almost screamed, but realized he was just holding something.

A piece of paper.

And a pen.

“Can you leave a note for Mateo?” he asked, his tone cold but surprisingly calm. “That way he won't worry when he wakes up.”

Helena blinked, incredulous.

“Y-yes! Of course! I can even write ten thousand words if you want!”

She sat down quickly, took a deep breath, and began to write as if her life depended on it.

And as soon as she finished, she practically ran out of the room—without looking back.

Henrique remained where he was, watching until the door closed.

His gaze was indecipherable—cold, but with a different gleam, almost... curious.

That woman left him in disarray. And he hated feeling that way.

“Brother!” Axel entered the room almost skipping. “Pinch me, am I dreaming or have you really fallen in love with Helena?” Henrique didn't answer, but Axel, excited, insisted. “Man, you're thirty-two! Thirty-two! And you've never been interested in anyone!”

Henrique's icy stare was enough.

“Keep going, Axel, and you'll need new facial surgery!” His brother's smile froze on his face. “Okay. Understood. End of discussion,” he muttered, raising his hands in surrender.

Henrique turned his gaze back to the note on the bedside table. The paper was simple, but it still carried a soft scent, and for a moment, Henrique's usual coldness broke.

And he... smiled.

At that very moment, in the heart of São Paulo, traffic roared like a beast, cars honked, crowded buses crawled along, and hurried pedestrians crossed the avenues in the stifling morning heat.

In the midst of the chaos, Helena jumped out of a taxi, her heart in her throat and sweat dripping from her forehead, as she was already late.

In the distance, in front of the glass building where the auditions for “Love Me If You Can” were taking place, she saw Tania and Camila coming out triumphant, surrounded by reporters, photographers, and sycophants.

Camila smiled as if she had the world at her feet, and her high heels, expensive outfit, and arrogant gleam in her eyes: everything about her exuded power.

When her eyes met Helena's, time seemed to stand still, and the look Camila gave her was the same as six years ago, the look of someone who steps on others without remorse.

Soon after, the roar of the engine cut through the air, and Camila's sports car sped off, leaving only the smell of gasoline and a trail of dust.

Helena clenched her fists, and it wasn't too late yet.

She ran into the building, her heart beating so fast that it seemed to echo in the corridors. But as she turned the main corridor, she came across a group of people walking and talking animatedly — the investors and directors of the project.

The blood ran cold in her veins. “Sorry I'm late!” she exclaimed, bowing politely.

The investors and directors stopped, and some exchanged disapproving glances. The assistant director, a stern and grumpy man, crossed his arms:

“The audition is over. What's the point of showing up running now? Young people today have no sense of responsibility.”

Helena took a deep breath and maintained her composure.

“I didn't come to audition for the lead role.”

The director raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

“Oh, no? Then... what role did you come to audition for?”

Helena lifted her chin, determined.

“The assistant screenwriter. From what I understand, you haven't found one yet.”

A brief silence filled the hall, then she looked up—and that simple gesture changed everything.

The light streaming through the windows reflected in her eyes, revealing a determined calm and a natural beauty that no one there expected.

Even the grumpy assistant seemed to lose his breath for a moment.

“What's your name?” asked the director.

“Helena,” she replied firmly, without hesitation.

The director exchanged glances with the head writer and the producer.

“I remember you...” he murmured thoughtfully. “One of the writers at Vox Talents, right?”

She nodded.

The man smiled, satisfied.

“Then you don't need to audition anymore. The job is yours. Get ready. We'll contact you when filming begins.”

Helena stood still for a second, and then a genuine smile lit up her face.

She bowed in gratitude.

“Thank you very much, director. I promise not to disappoint.”