“Pretend You Love Me, Please…” — Powerful CEO Begged Single Dad Right In Front Of His Ex.

Not because of the criticism, but because Miguel wasn’t there to tell him everything would be okay. Meanwhile, Miguel also suffered in silence. Sofía asked for Lucía every night. “She’s not coming anymore,” she said in a small voice. Miguel faked a smile. “She’s busy, darling, but she loves you very much.”

Later, when the girl was asleep, he would stare at the ceiling, thinking about that night in the park, about Lucía’s laughter, about her promises. He knew he loved her, but he also knew that love isn’t always enough to survive in a world that thrives on appearances. One afternoon, he received an envelope with no return address. Inside was a letter printed with the Salvatierra Group logo.

It said, “If you truly love Lucía Ortega, leave her. She will never be free while she is with you. I can clear her name. You are just an obstacle.” Miguel crumpled the paper until it was crumpled. He knew it was a trap, but the poison was already in place. For the first time, he doubted himself. That night he wrote a short message to Lucía. “I need to think.”

Don’t worry about me. Take care of yourself. And he disappeared. Lucía waited for his call for days. She looked for him at home, at the bar, in the park, but he wasn’t there. Only Sofía, with tears in her eyes, handed him a drawing. Lucía and Dad under a rainbow. Lucía hugged him, unable to speak. The drawing smelled of childhood and loss.

And in that moment, she realized that Derek hadn’t just stolen her reputation, but also her happiness. Standing in front of the mirror, she looked at herself closely. The impeccable suit, the perfect makeup, and a vacant stare. She was back to being the woman she’d been before, powerful on the outside, broken on the inside, but this time something was different.

She knew the love she’d known was real, even if the world didn’t understand, and she swore she’d do whatever it took to get it back. Because even if Derek had won the media battle, Lucía was determined to win the war of the soul. Love, she thought, isn’t always a peaceful refuge; sometimes it’s the fire that forces you to be reborn.

And while the city slept, Lucía Ortega, the strongest woman in Valencia, began planning her return. Not as a wounded CEO, but as a woman who had learned that truth and love are worth more than any reputation. Winter had arrived in Valencia. The streets of El Carmen smelled of roasted chestnuts and freshly fallen rain.

Lucía walked alone, her coat zipped up to her neck, her mind colder than the air. Three weeks had passed since Miguel disappeared without a trace, three weeks of silence, cruel headlines, and endless nights staring into the void. But something inside her had changed. She no longer cried, no longer sought to justify herself; now she wanted to fight.

One morning, as she entered her office, Marta was waiting for her with a surprised expression. “Lucia, are you back at work?” “Yes,” she replied in a firm voice, but not like before. She took off her coat, sat down, and turned on her computer. For hours she reviewed documents, contracts, emails—the same ones Derek had manipulated to ruin her.

There was no direct trace of his betrayal, but its shadow was everywhere. “I’m going to clean this up,” he said quietly, as he called me, a janitor of the soul. Marta looked at her blankly. Lucía smiled. Don’t worry, for the first time I understand what it means to start from scratch. She dedicated the following days to rebuilding her team’s trust.

She stopped using her glass office and worked at the same desk as everyone else. She listened, asked questions, and expressed her gratitude. The press still hounded her, but now she wasn’t running away. She responded calmly, without anger, with that serenity that only comes when you’ve hit rock bottom and decided to rise again. A journalist persisted.

She’s still in love with Mr. Navarro. Lucía answered without hesitation, “Yes, and I’m not ashamed. Sometimes you have to lose everything to understand what really matters.” That headline went viral across the country. Lucía Ortega, the woman who chose love over power for the first time. Social media didn’t attack her; people defended her; the messages multiplied.

Thank you for speaking up for those who can’t. I wish there were more female bosses with a heart. Love knows no hierarchies. Lucía read them silently, feeling the wound begin to heal. One afternoon, while walking along the seafront, she came across a small organization that distributed food to families in need.

An older man recognized her and said loudly, “It’s Mrs. Ortega, from TV.” Lucía blushed. I’m just Lucía. Well, Lucía, come on, help us serve soup. And so she did, no cameras, no speeches, just her, with a large spoon and a borrowed apron. As she served, she thought of Miguel. He would have smiled to see her there. When she finished, the coordinator told her, “If you want, you can come more times.”

“People here don’t look at surnames, only at looks.” Lucía felt a lump in her throat. That night, when she got home, she opened a new notebook and wrote on the first page, Sofía Foundation, to help single parents. She knew exactly what she wanted to do with her life. Turn pain into hope. The days turned into weeks.