Lara woke up feeling an unfamiliar weight pressing down on her body, as if she hadn't truly slept but merely blacked out from exhaustion. Soft light filtered through the heavy curtains, and the digital clock on the nightstand blinked mockingly: 7:12 a.m.
She sat up in bed, dazed. "Shit," she muttered, pressing her hands to her face.
For hours, she'd paced the room, phone clutched in her hand, eyes glued to the screen, waiting for anything, a notification, a message from the kidnappers, a call from Vincenzo, anything at all. But nothing came. And at some point, her body gave out.
She swallowed the knot in her throat and rose on trembling legs. The cold shower didn't wash away her guilt; it only made her more irritable. Where the hell was Vincenzo?
Wrapped in the plush bathrobe, she barely had time to towel off her hair when someone knocked on the door.
Vincenzo.
Her heart leapt, but not with relief. It was pure rage, boiling through her veins. She stormed across the room and yanked the door open, ready to unleash her fury.
But it wasn't him.
"Good morning, darling!" Silvia breezed in like a scented wind, immaculate in a beige tailored suit and wearing a smile that never quite reached her eyes.
Lara blinked, confusion quickly giving way to irritation.
"Silvia? What the hell are you doing here this early?"
"Early?" Silvia let out a tinkling laugh. "It's past seven, Lara! You have an important appointment at nine. We need to get moving."
"Appointment? I don't have any appointment," Lara shot back firmly. "And even if I did, I'm not going anywhere while my father is missing."
Silvia's smile remained fixed, unfazed by the cold tone, as she sailed past Lara straight into the closet.
"Let's pick something strong, elegant, something that conveys confidence. The press is like a wild animal. They can smell weakness."
She went straight to the racks, rifling through hangers as though Lara hadn't said a word.
"Silvia." Lara's voice dropped, deep and sharp. "I'm serious. I'm not going."
"Those are Mr. Vasquez's orders."
The sound of Vincenzo's name in someone else's mouth made Lara see red.
"I don't care," she snapped, folding her arms tightly over her chest. "Until I hear news about my father, I'm not leaving this penthouse."
Silvia sighed, as though dealing with a stubborn child.
"Lara, darling, you don't have a choice." She studied a sleek black dress, running her fingers over the fabric. "It would be wiser to cooperate. Vincenzo doesn't appreciate disobedience."
The anger surged in Lara's chest, hot and blinding.
"Because he thinks he can control every inch of my life, even what I wear!"
"And, with all due respect, he can," Silvia replied smoothly, without so much as a flicker of emotion. "You signed a contract, remember?"
Lara took a step back, sucking in a breath, but it wasn't calm that rose inside her. It was defiance.
"Not this time. I'm not going to smile, pose for photos, or sit beside any of his allies while my father might be… dead."
Silvia turned, still holding the elegant black dress, and regarded Lara as though assessing a child throwing a tantrum.
"You can protest all you like. But Mr. Vasquez made it clear that today is no ordinary day."
Lara stared at the dress, then back at Silvia. Something about this entire situation smelled wrong.
"Why didn't he come tell me this himself?"
Silvia hesitated for a fraction of a second.
"He's busy. But he left specific instructions."
A cold chill slid down Lara's spine. Where is he?
"Then tell him that this time, I'm not obeying." She turned away and threw herself onto the bed, her back to Silvia. "Pick whatever dress you want. I'm not putting it on."
The silence that followed was razor sharp until Silvia let out a low, humorless laugh.
"Do you really think you have a choice?"
Lara turned to face her, but Silvia was already emerging from the closet, the dress draped over her arm.
"Yes, I do," Lara murmured. "Because today is the day I decided I'm not going to be his little pet doll."
Silvia sighed, laid the dress carefully over the armchair, and walked toward the door.
"I'll go prepare some coffee. You have fifteen minutes to reconsider."
Lara didn't answer.
"And, Lara?" Silvia paused at the doorway, her smile now sharp as a blade. "Don't be difficult. You already know what happens when Vincenzo gets angry."
The door clicked shut behind her, leaving Lara alone with the echo of that threat.
*****
The ballroom of the five-star hotel was adorned with pale flowers, crystal arrangements, and an elegant hush broken only by polite conversation and the delicate clinking of champagne glasses. The air smelled of wealth and false empathy. A charity luncheon was underway, raising funds for a social project, awash in inspiring speeches and flashes from press cameras.
Lara entered, escorted by Silvia. The black dress Silvia had chosen for her spoke of authority and restraint. Her high heels echoed across the marble floor, and the low chignon drew attention to the elegant line of her neck and her sharp, attentive expression.
On the surface, she was the picture of poised elegance. Inside, her nerves burned like exposed wires.
Vincenzo still hadn't returned.
Silvia, as always, maintained her impenetrable composure. "Remember: keep smiling. You're the lady of elegance, even when you're surrounded by snakes."
Lara didn't reply. Her eyes were fixed on the silver-haired man with the razor-sharp smile, speaking with a few businessmen near the main table.
Edgar Campos.
She recognized him instantly from the image Vincenzo had shown her on the tablet. The same calculating gaze. The same dominant presence.
A shiver crawled over Lara's skin.
"There he is," Silvia murmured, tightening her grip on Lara's arm. "Let's go greet him."
Lara tried to dig her heels into the marble. "You knew he'd be here?" she hissed, barely breathing.
Silvia only smiled. "Of course. He's the foundation's main donor."
Before Lara could protest, she found herself swept into Edgar's orbit.
He turned toward them, his eyes gliding over Lara like silk. When he took her hand, his thumb lingered against her pulse for a fraction longer than necessary. His lips brushed across her knuckles, warm, dry, and possessive.
"Miss Fernandes," he greeted smoothly. "At last."
Lara forced a polite smile, though she could feel the tension humming in every muscle. "Mr. Campos. I didn't know my name was so well-known."
"Oh, but how could it not be?" His eyes scanned her face as if reading every hidden thought. "Daughter of Renato Fernandes, the jewel of São Paulo society… and now, the protégé of Vincenzo Vasquez."
Vincenzo's name tasted like poison in Edgar's mouth, and Lara's shoulders stiffened.
"You know Vincenzo?" she asked, trying to keep her tone casual.
Edgar gave a low, almost private chuckle. "Our paths cross in certain business dealings from time to time. Fascinating man, wouldn't you agree?"
Business. Lara swallowed hard, but quickly slipped a smile back into place, and with the same sweetness she'd use to aim a dagger, she asked: "And my father?" She took the risk, every nerve on edge, studying Edgar's reaction. "Did your paths ever cross?"
Edgar tilted his head slightly, feigning a melancholy sigh as he lifted his champagne flute. "Sadly, I never had that pleasure. I always admired him… from afar. It's truly a shame he got caught up in such a… destructive scandal."
Liar. Lara saw it in the slight tightening at the corners of his eyes, in the way his fingers tapped once against his glass. A man who played golf with the prosecutor handling her father's case certainly knew far more than he admitted.
"It truly is lamentable," she replied smoothly. "But my father is a strong man. I'm certain the truth will come out."
"The truth is a curious thing, don't you think?" Edgar murmured, his smile crooked. "It all depends on who's telling the story."
Before Lara could answer, Silvia stepped closer, her breath warm against Lara's ear.
"I need to step away for a moment. I'll be right back."
Lara almost grabbed her arm. Don't leave me with him. But Silvia was already slipping away, leaving her alone with the wolf.
Edgar lifted his champagne flute.
"How about some fresh air? The balcony has a magnificent view."
Lara hesitated for only a second. A small voice inside her screamed Trap. But a stronger voice whispered opportunity.
"I'd love to," she said, her voice velvet-smooth.