Chapter 91 For years she had gotten used to being her own provider.
João accepted and sat down next to her on the sofa. The film was a slow-paced artistic work, but the aroma of incense was so comforting that he felt his muscles relax for the first time in days. Five minutes later, João's head fell back. He was fast asleep.
Katherine turned off the television immediately. She walked to the storage room, locked the door, and moved a heavy wardrobe. Behind it, she inserted her fingerprint into a hidden biometric lock. A secret door opened.
Inside, Katherine's private laboratory gleamed with high-precision instruments, formulas in progress, and shelves lined with rare manuscripts. She put away her notebook, organized the new spices, and initiated an encrypted video call.
“The shipment from Orlando has arrived,” she said to the figure on the screen. “Let's discuss the next steps.”
Time seemed to freeze as Katherine immersed herself in her formulas in the secret room. Outside, the brass burner had already fallen silent, and the sedative fragrance that had knocked out the most powerful man in the capital had almost disappeared, replaced by the homely smell of food coming from the neighborhood.
João Pedro awoke with the precision of a Swiss watch. He blinked, disoriented for a second by the deep, restorative sleep he hadn't felt in years. The silence in the house was absolute. As he washed his face in the bathroom, his eyes focused on the shelf: a glass, a brush, a towel. Katherine's austere solitude was imprinted on every detail of that unique set.
As he left, he ran into her emerging from the storage room.
“What do you want for lunch?” he asked, ignoring the fact that he had “passed out” on her couch.
Katherine looked up, her usual coldness back in place. “Haven't you left yet?”
“I'm hungry,” he lied with disconcerting naturalness, leaning against the wall. “I won't have the energy to drive home if I don't eat.”
Katherine snorted and picked up her cell phone to open the delivery app. Before she could click on any restaurant, João took the device from her hand and closed the app. “Takeout food isn't healthy.”
“I'm not going to cook,” she retorted impatiently.
“You don't have to cook,” he smiled, already dialing a number. “Wait here.”
He left and returned moments later with some snacks he had in his car. “Eat this while you wait.”
“This is even less healthy than delivery,” Katherine observed, but accepted the bread he unwrapped for her. When she took the first bite, she felt the softness of the dough. João watched her chew in silence, his eyes shining with a gentle amusement he rarely showed to the world.
Twenty minutes later, the doorbell rang.
Katherine frowned when she saw an army of chefs from one of the capital's most exclusive restaurants entering her home. They brought fresh ingredients, copper utensils, and rare spices—a mobile gourmet kitchen set up in record time. João Pedro didn't do anything halfway; if he wanted lunch, he would turn her living room into a five-star restaurant.
Quickly, four refined dishes and a steaming soup were served. The chefs withdrew silently, leaving the aroma of haute cuisine lingering in the air.
“Eat,” said João, serving her half a bowl of soup.
Katherine tasted the roast pork. “How is it?” he asked attentively.
“It's fine,” she replied. João smiled; he knew that Katherine's “it's fine” was the highest praise anyone could receive.
“The chef at this restaurant is the most award-winning in the capital. Try the others.”
She tasted each dish, recognizing the flavor of the place she secretly enjoyed. “They're not bad.”
“Only the pork didn't quite suit you?”
Katherine paused, her eyes lost for a second in a distant memory. “I've had better.”
“At which restaurant?”
“Not for sale,” she declared. João stopped asking questions. He sensed that, for Katherine, that flavor belonged to Josiane, something that no amount of money could replicate.
He reached out to fill her rice bowl, but Katherine gently pulled it away. “I'll do it myself.”
For years she had been accustomed to being her own provider, her own protection. João Pedro's constant intervention in her routine created a strange and new feeling in her heart — something she didn't know whether to embrace or fight.
Suddenly, the doorbell rang again, breaking the bubble of intimacy that had formed in the dining room.
The atmosphere in Katherine's courtyard changed dramatically with the arrival of Steve Laser. From inside the door, João Pedro watched the scene like an attentive predator, his arms crossed and his gaze fixed on the interaction.
Katherine maintained her icy demeanor, while Steve, a renowned and experienced doctor, seemed to crumble before her. He gestured urgently, almost begging for something, but Katherine's response was short and lethal. From João's point of view, Steve's face instantly paled, as if he had received a final verdict.
When Katherine returned to the table and continued her lunch in silence, João couldn't help asking:
“How do you know him?”
“No comment,” she replied, her voice sharp as she focused on her cell phone.
João didn't insist. He knew that some locks couldn't be opened with brute force, but with the right key.
After being “kicked out” of the house by Katherine—who closed the door with a coldness that made him laugh helplessly—he already had his next step planned.
At three in the afternoon, in João Pedro's private office, the scene was different. Steve Laser was sitting across from him, trying to maintain a facade of cordiality, reminiscing about old times among the elite.
“I didn't invite you here to reminisce about the past, Steve,” João interrupted, his icy voice cutting through the air.
Steve's smile faded. “What? You want to talk business? I'm a doctor, João, not a businessman.”
João leaned back in his leather chair, his imposing presence making the room seem too small for Steve.
He had no intention of wasting time with games.
“Are you close to Katherine?” The question came out bluntly, like a gunshot.
The silence that followed was heavy. Steve felt the weight of João's gaze and, in a flash of clarity, realized what was happening.
“Why are you so concerned about her?” Steve ventured, even though the answer was stamped on the possessive intensity of João's eyes.
João's gaze became icy, a silent warning that his patience was at an end. “Answer my question directly. What did you want with her at her house earlier today?”