Davi stammers, “Bianca, listen, she’s manipulating—”
Bianca cuts him off.
“No,” she snaps. “You manipulated everyone in this room.”
Then she turns to her father’s advisor standing near the bar.
“Call my legal team,” she orders, voice sharp like she’s used to being obeyed.
“And tell them to review every contract I signed with him. Tonight.”
Davi’s face twists.
“You can’t do this,” he hisses.
Bianca’s laugh is cold.
“I can do anything,” she says. “That’s what you married into. Too bad you didn’t read the fine print.”
The crowd begins to disperse in uneasy waves.
Some guests leave because they’re ashamed.
Others leave because they’re afraid.
And a few stay, drawn toward Lídia like people who suddenly remember what courage looks like.
A woman approaches Lídia, placing a shawl gently over her shoulders.
“My sister died of cancer,” she whispers. “I’m sorry.”
Lídia nods, eyes shining, and for a moment she looks unbelievably tired.
But she also looks free.
