Chapter 5

Beatriz

Monday morning at the Grupo Matarazzo sets the chaotic rhythm for the entire week. The mirrored building in the South Zone of Sao Paulo pulses with the energy of hundreds of employees rushing back and forth. I park my Porsche Cayenne in the legal department's reserved spot and smile, feeling a pleasant flutter in my stomach. The new-leather smell is still intact, a physical reminder of the perfect Sunday we had.

Miguel left the house almost two hours before me. When I woke up, he was already in a suit, drinking an espresso in the kitchen and reviewing reports on his tablet. He gave me an affectionate kiss on the forehead, said he needed to run to align the first details of the week with the board, and left in his car. We're not one of those clingy couples who need to do everything together; I love our independence and the fact that we each have our own rhythms.

I take the private elevator straight up to the executive floor. As the lead attorney for contracts and mergers, my workflow intersects directly with his. Normally, our Monday routine involves me stopping by his office around ten in the morning to align the week's legal priorities.

When the doors open, I head straight for Silvana's desk — Miguel's executive secretary for years.

"Good morning, Sil!" I greet her, setting my purse on the counter. "Did you manage to get the agenda to Miguel?"

Silvana looks up from her computer screens, and I notice a subtle hesitation in her expression before she gives me a timid smile.

"Good morning, Mrs. Matarazzo. Yes, it's already on his desk. But Mr. Matarazzo asked not to be interrupted by anyone for the next two hours. He's in an emergency video conference with the international investors."

"Oh, that's fine. I was just going to leave these audit reports from the Campinas factory with him," I say, holding up the black leather folder. "I'll pop in real quick just to put them in the intake tray. I won't disturb his call."

"It's just that…" Silvana clears her throat, looking uncomfortable, which strikes me as slightly odd. She never blocks me from dropping off documents. "He was very emphatic, Beatriz. He asked to have the door locked, even, so he could have total focus for the meeting."

I take a step back, filing the information away with a pang of surprise. Miguel locking the door to the president's office isn't really like him, but I know how much the pressure over the new craft beer line has been keeping the entire board up at night. The Grupo Matarazzo operates on margins worth millions; any delay is a massive problem.

"Got it. No problem, I'll leave them with you then," I smile, trying to lighten the mood. "Let him know our lunch today is still on. We planned to try that new restaurant near Avenida Berrini."

"Will do, absolutely."

I go back to my office one floor down and dive into the analysis of supplier contracts. Time flies when I'm focused, but around one o'clock, my stomach protests. I check my phone. No message from Miguel confirming the time.

I decide to call. The phone rings three times before going to voicemail.

I try not to let any foolishness take over my thoughts. He's the CEO, Bia — he probably ran long with the Germans on the call, I repeat to myself. I grab my things and decide to go back up to the executive floor to get him.

When I step out of the elevator, Silvana's desk is empty; she's already left for her lunch break. I walk down the quiet hallway and see that the door to Miguel's office is now ajar. I give two light taps on the dark wood and walk in with a smile on my face.

"Hey, did the international investor swallow you whole or…"

My voice dies in my throat. Miguel is standing beside the large glass window that overlooks the Sao Paulo skyline. His jacket is off, the sleeves of his white dress shirt rolled up to his forearms. When he hears my voice, he gives a visible start, turning quickly away from the window.

The expression on his face isn't his usual warm smile. It's a mask of tension, eyes narrowed and jaw clenched so tight a rigid line cuts across his cheek. He shoves his phone into his pants pocket in a hurry.

"Beatriz," he says, his voice coming out a tone lower than normal. He clears his throat, trying to soften his expression, but the crease between his brows remains. "What are you doing up here?"

The use of my full name instead of Bia or my love hits me like a small bucket of cold water.

"Came to see if the owner of the company is going to have lunch with his favorite lawyer," I reply, keeping my tone light and playful, walking up to him to wrap my arms around his waist.

When I get close, I feel his body go rigid. Miguel gives me a quick kiss on the top of my head but doesn't pull me into his usual tight bear hug. It's a mechanical gesture. Distant.

"I'm sorry, Bia. Today's been complete chaos," he says, pulling away subtly to grab the jacket draped over the back of his chair. "I won't be able to have lunch with you today. I have to go to the Aracariguama factory to check on a problem with the board. I'm already late, actually."

"Oh… I see." I swallow hard, feeling a strange tightness in my chest, but I quickly brush the feeling aside. He's under a lot of stress. "Want me to come along? I can review the labor clauses with the managers there while you handle the rest."

"No!" His answer comes out a little louder and faster than necessary. Miguel catches his tone and takes a deep breath, forcing a mild smile as he holds my shoulders. "That's not necessary, my love. It's purely operational and tedious. Stay here and take care of the export contracts. I'll get it sorted out fast."

"All right," I smile, touching his face. "Don't be so hard on yourself, honey. I'll see you at home for dinner?"

"Yes, absolutely. I love you," he says, giving me a quick peck before grabbing his document folder and striding out of the office, leaving me alone in the vast space of the president's suite.

I stand there for a few seconds, staring at the closed door. His woodsy cologne still lingers in the air, but I feel a strange sensation. I shake my head, scolding myself immediately. Miguel just gave me a Porsche; he loves me more than anything. Corporate exhaustion is real, and my role as his wife is to support him, not pressure him.

I walk over to his desk to grab the report folder I'd left there, when my eyes land on a detail on the floor, right next to the president's chair.

A small square piece of paper with the gold logo of a luxury jewelry boutique in Jardins seems to have fallen from somewhere. Curious, I bend down and pick it up. It's a purchase receipt. The amount printed on it is astronomical, dated three days ago. In the item description, it reads only: Diamond and sapphire choker.

My heart skips a beat and an involuntary smile spreads across my lips. I feel my cheeks flush. Three days ago was Friday.

I stare at the paper with eyes shining with emotion. My God, the Porsche yesterday wasn't the only surprise he planned, I think, feeling a wave of guilt for having found Miguel distant just seconds ago. He probably bought the choker and is waiting for the right moment this week to give it to me — maybe at a romantic dinner for two, to close out the celebrations.

I tuck the little slip of paper into my purse with the utmost care in the world, so he won't realize I found the surprise. I go back to my floor with a light heart and a goofy smile on my face, completely submerged in the certainty that I have the most wonderful, romantic husband in the universe.

***This work has been signed with NovelToon, and piracy such as reprinting without permission is strictly prohibited.***

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***