I ended the call and leaned back against the leather seat, turning my attention to the window as the car cut through the darkened stretch of private woodland leading toward the family estate. The headlights sliced through towering trees, their shadows stretching endlessly across the road, mirroring the weight pressing against my chest.
As soon as I stepped out of the vehicle, an unease settled deep in my bones. The night was quiet, the moon hanging high above the treetops, its pale light spilling over the manicured grounds like a silent witness. It felt as though the world itself was watching me—observing, judging, remembering.
My phone vibrated in my pocket, snapping me out of the moment.
Leonardo’s executive group chat was exploding. Notifications stacked one after another, the unread count climbing at an alarming rate.
Against my better judgment, I opened it.
The first thing that appeared on my screen was a photo Camila had uploaded. Leonardo was kneeling on the floor of her newly acquired villa, sleeves rolled up, shoulders tense as he worked on exposed wiring near the wall. His shirt clung to him, damp from exertion, the image framed deliberately to highlight his focus—and his body.
My fingers tightened around the phone.
Her caption followed immediately beneath the image:
Does anyone else have a CEO this attentive? I’d dedicate my entire career to this company. Should I just sign a lifetime contract now?
Replies poured in within seconds—from senior managers, department heads, and long-time executives.
I’ve never seen Mr. Vale this hands-on before. Guess the rumors about him being emotionally distant were exaggerated.
Those arms should be illegal. Fixing wires is clearly not his only talent.
Stop showing off, Camila. We all know who’s going to be standing beside him at future galas.
The screen blurred as my grip tightened until the phone creaked faintly in protest.
She was brilliant at it—subtle, public, unmistakable. Every move designed to stake her claim without ever saying it outright. I’d been there once. Leonardo used to do the same with me—posting candid moments from business trips, charity events, late-night strategy sessions, small smiles caught between meetings. Back then, it felt solid. Unbreakable.
Now, I was nothing more than a footnote in his history.