### Chapter 1 — The Price of a Shrimp

In the business world, everyone knew Helena Alencar.

Some called her the most influential woman in finance. Others said she had the cold precision of a machine, capable of predicting crises before they even happened. In only seven years, she had turned Alencar Capital Global into one of the largest investment firms in the world, managing billions and deciding the fate of corporate giants with a single signature.

But few people knew that the ruthless CEO had one very simple rule for dealing with the people around her.

Every action had a consequence.

That night, the Monteserra family hosted a lavish dinner to celebrate the signing of an international contract. The press was there, along with business leaders, shareholders, and important figures from the market.

At the center of the ballroom, Dante Monteserra accepted congratulations and posed for photos. As the heir to the group, he was treated as the great star of the night.

Beside him, wearing an elegant pale dress, stood Livia Navarro, the company's new intern.

Helena watched the scene while speaking with several foreign investors. She didn't mind her husband mentoring promising employees. In fact, she admired leaders who helped their subordinates grow.

The problem was that, over the past few months, Dante had been crossing certain lines.

And she had already noticed.

"Ms. Alencar, it's always a pleasure to see you," an Italian businessman greeted her. "The Monteserra Group was very lucky when it joined forces with the Alencar family."

She smiled politely.

"Solid partnerships are built by committed people."

Before the conversation could continue, a stir caught her attention.

A waiter approached Livia with a tray piled with grilled shrimp.

The young woman made a small pout.

"Oh... I love shrimp, but I hate peeling them. I always ruin my nails."

Dante smiled.

"Then don't peel them."

She tilted her head, feigning innocence.

"And how am I supposed to eat them?"

Without a second thought, in front of dozens of guests, he picked up a shrimp, carefully removed the shell, and placed the clean meat on her plate.

Livia broke into an exaggerated smile.

"President Monteserra, your wife is going to be upset."

He gave a low laugh.

"Helena doesn't waste time on that kind of thing."

Some people nearby found the scene funny. Others traded discreet looks.

Beatriz Monteserra, Dante's mother, lowered her head, visibly embarrassed.

Helena only watched.

Her expression didn't change. She didn't raise her voice. She didn't make a scene.

She simply walked calmly to the head table.

"Darling."

Dante turned his face.

"Helena? Did something happen?"

She gave him an impeccable smile.

"Of course not. Actually, I just had a wonderful idea."

Before he could ask anything, Helena signaled to the event's master of ceremonies.

"Ladies and gentlemen, may I have just one minute of your attention?"

The entire ballroom fell silent.

As one of the group's principal investors, Helena was respected by everyone. Even the journalists turned their cameras toward her.

She picked up a glass of champagne and spoke calmly.

"The Monteserra family has always valued dedication and care for others. Today, my husband just reminded me of that with a very beautiful gesture."

Dante frowned, not understanding.

Helena continued.

"President Monteserra showed us that no job is too small when it comes to serving well. For that reason, we've decided to turn tonight into a charitable action for Fundacao Esperanca Azul, the Blue Hope Foundation, which serves hundreds of underprivileged children."

The guests began to applaud.

Dante smiled awkwardly, assuming his wife was merely announcing some donation.

Then Helena snapped her fingers.

Two catering staff members entered the ballroom, pushing a stainless-steel cart.

On top of it sat an enormous insulated cooler.

The chef opened the lid.

Five kilos of fresh shrimp.

Dante's smile vanished.

Helena looked at the chef.

"How many servings will be prepared for the foundation tomorrow?"

"Approximately one hundred and fifty, Ms. Alencar."

She nodded.

"Perfect. My husband just showed that he has a special talent for this. I'm sure he'll be happy to prepare everything personally."

The ballroom plunged into absolute silence.

Dante's eyes widened.

"Helena... what are you talking about?"

She tilted her head, as if surprised.

"Weren't you peeling shrimp with such dedication? I thought you enjoyed this kind of activity."

A timid laugh escaped from somewhere in the ballroom.

Livia went pale.

"Ms. Alencar, I... I can explain..."

Helena finally turned her eyes to the intern.

"Explain what? A president helping an employee? I thought the gesture was extremely kind. And kindness deserves to be encouraged."

Then she turned to the photographers.

"Capture this moment. The president of the Monteserra Group will carry out a charitable act tonight."

The flashes started firing.

Dante tried to maintain his composure.

"This is ridiculous."

Helena stepped closer and lowered her voice just enough for him to hear.

"Ridiculous is turning your intern into a source of mockery for your wife in front of hundreds of guests. Now smile. Everyone is watching."

Then she resumed her cordial tone.

"Darling, please. The children are counting on you."

There was no way out.

If he refused, he would look selfish at an event surrounded by the press. If he accepted, he would be humiliated.

Under the watchful eyes of business leaders, journalists, and shareholders, Dante took off his suit jacket, rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt, and sat down before the table prepared by the caterer.

The chef set the first tray of shrimp in front of him.

The flashes grew even more intense.

Livia tried to come closer, but Beatriz caught her by the arm.

"Stay out of it."

The older woman looked at her daughter-in-law, and for the first time in many years, a sincere smile appeared on her face.

As Dante peeled shrimp after shrimp, Helena returned to the international investors as if nothing extraordinary were happening.

One of them, an old French businessman, approached her and asked in a low voice,

"Ms. Alencar... is this also part of Alencar Capital's business strategy?"

She brought the glass to her lips without even looking back.

"No. This is part of his education."

That night, the heir to the Monteserra Group peeled five kilos of shrimp in front of all of high society.

And without realizing it, he had just made the first mistake that would lead him to lose not only his marriage...

...but the entire empire.

The camera flashes still lit the ballroom when Helena returned to her conversation with the foreign investors.

Behind her, seated at a makeshift counter arranged by the caterer, Dante Monteserra tried to keep his expression serene while he peeled shrimp under the attentive eyes of high society. The hotel chef, taking advantage of the opportunity, even gave him instructions.

"President Monteserra, you need to remove the entire shell. Like this... yes... careful not to break the meat."

Some people looked away out of politeness. Others made no effort to hide their amusement.

The business elite loved talking about money, but they lived on scandals.

Lívia Navarro stood a few yards away, completely at a loss. She had never imagined the president's wife would react that way. In her mind, a rich, proud woman like Helena would do exactly what all betrayed wives did: make a scene, argue, lose her elegance, and become gossip fodder.

Instead, Helena had turned the humiliation into a charity event.

And Dante was the one being embarrassed.

"Miss Navarro."

The young woman turned quickly at the sound of Beatriz Monteserra's cold voice.

The matriarch kept a polite smile on her face, but her eyes were hard.

"Ms. Alencar is tonight's hostess alongside my son. The least an employee can do is maintain her composure."

"I... I didn't do anything."

Beatriz cast a glance at the man who was still peeling shrimp.

"Exactly. The person who should know everyone's place is my son."

Lívia lowered her head, feeling her face burn.

Across the ballroom, several journalists were already commenting on the situation.

"Did you record everything?"

"Of course. The headline is going to be great. 'President of the Monteserra Group Takes Part in Charitable Action During Benefit Dinner.'"

"It doesn't look like he chose to be there."

"But his wife was brilliant. She turned a possible embarrassment into positive marketing."

Helena heard part of the conversation and merely lifted her glass of water to her lips. She didn't like champagne at business events. She preferred to keep her mind completely clear.

One of the European directors, a gray-haired gentleman named Richard Hoffman, approached her.

"Ms. Alencar, I must admit I'm impressed."

"With the contract?"

"No. With the way you handle conflict."

She arched an eyebrow.

"I don't understand."

"Most very powerful people have trouble controlling their emotions. You were provoked in public, and even so, you stayed calm."

Helena observed Dante from a distance.

He had finished the first tray and was starting the second. His face already showed irritation, but he couldn't stop. The photographers kept recording everything.

She answered calmly.

"My father used to say that losing your temper means handing your weapon to your opponent. I simply don't have that habit."

Richard smiled.

"Now I understand why Alencar Capital never loses a negotiation."

Almost an hour later, the event came to an end.

Dante finally finished peeling the last shrimp. His hands were reddened, and he could barely hide the anger on his face.

As soon as the last guests began leaving the ballroom, he walked straight to Helena.

"Can we talk?"

She finished saying goodbye to a Japanese business couple before turning her attention back to her husband.

"Of course."

"Alone."

She agreed with a slight nod.

The two of them went to a small private room beside the main ballroom. As soon as the door closed, Dante lost his composure.

"What was that?"

Helena faced him in silence.

"You embarrassed me in front of everyone!"

"Funny."

"Funny?" he repeated, incredulous.

"Yes. Because I thought exactly the same thing when I saw you peeling shrimp for your intern."

Dante drew a deep breath.

"That didn't mean anything."

"Then you shouldn't care so much about what happened afterward."

"You're comparing a kindness with public humiliation?"

She crossed her arms.

"No. I'm comparing disrespect with its consequence."

He laughed nervously.

"Were you always like this? Do you have to turn everything into a contest?"

"I didn't turn anything into a contest. You chose to act that way in front of hundreds of people. I simply took the opportunity to arrange a charitable action."

"You did it to punish me."

Helena didn't deny it.

"I did."

The sincerity of her answer caught him off guard.

For a few seconds, Dante didn't know what to say.

"You... you're admitting it?"

"I don't hide my decisions. I thought it was important for you to understand how unpleasant it is to be put in a ridiculous position in front of other people."

He stared at her.

"You're exaggerating. She was just an employee."

"And I'm your wife."

Silence took over the room.

Dante looked away.

The truth was, he couldn't explain even to himself why he had started acting that way with Lívia. Maybe because the young woman always admired him. Maybe because she laughed at all his jokes. Or maybe because, beside her, he didn't feel small.

Since the wedding, there had been a feeling that never left him.

Everyone said the union between the families had been a great deal for the Monteserras.

Everyone said Helena was brilliant.

Everyone praised her ability to close impossible contracts.

No one said Dante was a competent man.

It was always "the husband of the CEO of Alencar Capital."

That fed a silent pride he would never admit out loud.

"Do you know what your problem is?" he asked.

"No."

"You think you're always above everyone else. You act like you're perfect."

Helena held his gaze.

"I never said I was perfect."

"You don't have to say it. The way you are makes it clear."

She took a deep breath.

"If you hold some resentment against me, you should talk like an adult. Not use an employee to get at your own wife."

Dante didn't answer.

Because deep down, she was right.

Lívia had never meant anything.

He had simply liked the idea of seeing Helena lose control.

The problem was that she hadn't lost it.

He was the one who had become the joke.

Meanwhile, in the hotel parking lot, Lívia got into her car completely furious.

She slammed the door and took off her high heels.

"That woman..."

Her phone vibrated.

A message appeared on the screen.

Unknown number: "See what Helena Alencar is like? As long as she exists, you'll never have a place beside Dante Monteserra."

Lívia frowned.

Lívia: "Who's this?"

The reply came almost immediately.

"Someone who would also like to see Helena fall."

She went still.

Before she could write again, another message appeared.

"The Monteserra family will never accept an ordinary girl as a daughter-in-law. But if Helena asks for a divorce... everything changes."

Lívia reread those words several times.

It was exactly what she thought.

Since she had started working at the company, she had noticed Dante wasn't in love with his wife. The two of them seemed like partners, not a couple. There were no public displays of affection, no declarations of love.

If a woman like Helena could occupy that place, why couldn't she?

Her gaze grew more determined.

She still didn't know who was sending those messages.

Nor did she imagine that, on the other side of the screen, someone connected to a powerful rival family was watching the Monteserra couple's every step.

And that her approach to Dante had never been a simple coincidence.

In the hotel's private room, the argument between Helena and Dante was coming to an end.

She picked up her purse from the table.

"Since we're finished, I'm going home."

His expression hardened.

"So that's it? You humiliate me and leave as if nothing happened?"

Helena walked to the door and gripped the handle.

Before leaving, she looked at him over her shoulder.

"Dante, I don't like arguing. I also don't like repeating the same conversation several times."

"What does that mean?"

She opened the door.

"It means I hope I don't have to teach the same lesson twice."

Without waiting for an answer, she left the room.

Dante remained alone, consumed by irritation.

He believed his wife was only trying to reassert her authority.

He didn't realize that, for Helena Alencar, that night was not the beginning of a war.

It was only the first warning.

And she always gave three chances before closing a door on someone.

By the next morning, the video of Dante Monteserra peeling five kilos of shrimp during the benefit dinner was everywhere.

The financial newspapers praised the Monteserra Group's social initiative. Entertainment sites amused themselves with the situation. Social media, meanwhile, was divided.

Some users said the group's president was humble for taking part in the action. Others commented that he looked as if he had been forced.

Naturally, no one dared mention Helena Alencar.

She was known for her discretion. She never gave interviews about her personal life, didn't attend unnecessary parties, and never responded to gossip. Her public image was impeccable: a brilliant executive, rational and far removed from scandals.

Seated in her spacious office on the top floor of Alencar Capital Global, she read a report while Clara, her personal assistant, organized the day's schedule.

"Ms. Alencar, the meeting with the Singapore investors has been moved up to ten o'clock."

"No problem."

"President Monteserra called twice."

Helena didn't lift her eyes from the documents.

"Did he leave a message?"

"He asked you to call him back as soon as possible."

She merely nodded.

There was no urgency. If it was a business matter, his assistants would contact her team directly. If it was about the dinner the night before, the conversation could wait.

Clara hesitated for a moment before continuing.

"I also received a call from the Monteserra Group office. Miss Navarro didn't come to work today."

Helena finally looked up.

"Is she sick?"

"According to human resources, she requested leave because she's very shaken by the comments online."

Helena closed the folder she had been reading.

"Did human resources handle it correctly?"

"Yes. The request was accepted."

"Then there's nothing else to discuss."

Clara smiled faintly. She admired her boss's ability to separate feelings from professional decisions.

To Helena, an employee was evaluated by their work, not their personal life.

As soon as the assistant left the office, Helena's phone vibrated.

It was a message from Beatriz Monteserra.

"My dear, do you have time to have lunch with me today?"

Helena answered almost immediately.

"Of course. Where would you like to go?"

"Our usual restaurant. I need to talk."

She knew that tone.

Beatriz rarely asked for help, but when she did, it was because she truly needed it.

Meanwhile, at the Monteserra Group headquarters, Dante paced back and forth inside his own office.

On his desk sat three tablets, all of them displaying news about the benefit event.

"Damn it!"

He threw one of the devices onto the sofa.

His friend and the group's chief financial officer, Renato Vasques, watched the scene in silence.

"You're overreacting."

"Overreacting? I've become a joke!"

Renato crossed his arms.

"Honestly? You're reaping what you sowed."

Dante shot him an irritated look.

"Are you taking her side too?"

"I'm not taking anyone's side. I'm just saying your wife has never done this kind of thing without a reason."

Dante took a deep breath.

"It was just a joke with an intern."

Renato let out a short laugh.

"Do you really believe that?"

"What do you mean?"

"I've known you for more than fifteen years. I've never seen you treat any employee that way. You wanted to provoke Helena."

Dante fell silent.

His friend was right.

It had all started months earlier, when he realized Lívia admired him almost blindly. She laughed at his jokes, praised his decisions, and looked at him as if he were the most incredible man in the world.

Helena had never done that.

She recognized his qualities, but she never hid his mistakes. If he made a rash decision, she pointed out the problem. If he made a mistake in a negotiation, she corrected him.

At times, Dante had the feeling he was married to a demanding teacher.

Renato interrupted his thoughts.

"Have you ever stopped to think about what will happen if Helena gets tired?"

Dante gave a mocking laugh.

"She's not leaving."

"Are you that sure?"

"Of course. Our marriage unites two enormous families. Besides, she knows she needs the Monteserras as much as we need the Alencars."

Renato almost answered, then gave up.

He knew certain details of the partnership between the two families. He knew the Monteserra Group depended far more on Helena's international contacts than Dante liked to admit.

But over the years, he had learned that no one could convince a proud man while he still believed he was in control.

At that moment, Dante's phone rang.

It was Lívia.

He answered immediately.

"Hi."

On the other end of the line, the young woman's voice sounded fragile.

"President Monteserra... I... I think it's better if I resign."

He frowned.

"Because of what happened yesterday?"

"People are judging me. They're saying I destroyed your marriage. I never wanted that."

The tremor in her voice made Dante feel a strange need to protect her.

"Don't pay attention to the comments. You didn't do anything wrong."

"But your wife hates me."

"Helena doesn't hate anyone. She just... has a complicated way about her."

Lívia seized the opening.

"She's very powerful. I got scared when she looked at me."

Dante gripped the phone more tightly.

"You don't need to be afraid. As long as I'm here, no one will touch you."

On the other end of the line, a small smile appeared on Lívia's lips.

It was exactly the answer she had wanted to hear.

At noon, Helena arrived at the discreet restaurant where she usually met Beatriz.

The place was private, frequented mainly by businesspeople and politicians. There were few tables, and none of them sat very close to another, ensuring privacy.

As soon as she entered, she found her mother-in-law already seated.

Beatriz looked tired.

"I'm sorry to bother you on a workday."

Helena removed her blazer and sat across from her.

"You never bother me."

The older woman held her teacup with both hands.

"I want to apologize for my son's behavior."

"You don't need to."

"Yes, I do. Because I know exactly how you felt."

Helena didn't answer.

Beatriz turned her gaze toward the window.

"When I was your age, my husband also liked showing off little kindnesses to other women. He bought jewelry, flowers, trips... while I stayed home taking care of the family and trying to keep up appearances."

Helena listened to everything in silence.

"Do you know what my greatest mistake was?" Beatriz continued. "I always believed that if I endured a little longer, he would change."

"And did he?"

The woman smiled, but there was sadness in her eyes.

"Yes. He changed mistresses."

The two of them stayed silent for a few seconds.

Then Beatriz held her daughter-in-law's hand.

"Don't become like me."

Helena squeezed her hand in return.

"I don't intend to."

"Do you still love Dante?"

The question hung between them.

Helena thought for a moment before answering.

"We never had a marriage based on passion. But I believed there was respect."

"And now?"

She looked down at her own cup.

"Now I'm waiting to find out whether there still is."

Beatriz wanted to say something else, but she was interrupted by Helena's phone ringing.

Clara was calling.

"Ms. Alencar, I'm sorry to interrupt your lunch, but something strange happened."

"What happened?"

"President Monteserra just left for an outside meeting... and he took Miss Navarro with him."

Helena remained silent.

Clara continued.

"The problem is that the group driver just sent me a photo. He said he found it inappropriate and thought it better to let you know."

"Send it to me."

A few seconds later, the image arrived.

It was a photograph taken discreetly in the company parking lot.

Dante was behind the wheel of his private car.

And Lívia was sitting in the passenger seat.

Not in the back seat, reserved for employees and guests.

In the front seat.

She was even using the small neck pillow Helena usually left there for longer trips.

Beatriz noticed the almost imperceptible change in her daughter-in-law's expression.

"Did something happen?"

Helena locked her phone screen and placed it on the table.

Her voice remained calm.

"I think your son just wasted his second chance."

Outside the restaurant, a black car slowly left the parking lot.

Inside it, Dante drove without imagining that a simple place occupied in the passenger seat would become one more step toward the destruction of his own marriage.

And somewhere in the city, someone watched everything from afar, satisfied to see the pieces on the board moving exactly as planned.