<b>Chapter </b><b>22 </b>
Antonio didn’t miss a beat as he responded to Alejandro.
“How am I supposed to prepare for my wedding without my best man?”
Alejandro’s jaw immediately ticked and Nivera watched the subtle tension in his expression, how his knuckles flexed at his sides even as he stered on that charming, practiced smile.
She didn’t know him well, but she could tell–mentioning the wedding had hit a nerve.
Antonio had noticed too. “And here I was, thinking you <i>at </i>least cleared your schedule to help me prepare,” he continued, his tone light butced
with deliberate provocation.
Alejandro recognized Antonio’s game and he decided to y along. It was going to take more than that to get him to lose his temper and they both knew
that.
“I’ve had a busy week,” he muttered.
“Wow, I’m hurt,” Antonio said.
Nivera lifted an eyebrow as she turned to face Antonio. “Didn’t peg you for the sentimental type.”
Her words made him smile faintly. “I’m not. But it would be a shame if my best man didn’t show up. Bad luck, even.”
“If you’re here to pester me about wedding logistics, Antonio, you’re wasting your time.”
“I came looking for you,” Antonio responded, as if that exined everything. Then he nced at Nivera, offering a small nod. “But I’m d I <b>got </b><b>to </b>talk to Nivera.”
Alejandro’s eyes darkened and he squinted his eyes at her.
Nivera tried to hide her smirk. She hadn’t pegged Antonio for the type to provoke, but he was doing it so effortlessly that even she found it admirable.
“Anything else you need?” Alejandro’s voice was a warning wrapped in velvet.
Antonio took the hint and he pushed away from the bookshelf with ease, straightening his suit. “No, I think I got what I came for.”
Then, without another word, he walked to the door.
But just before he opened it, he paused and looked back at Nivera. “It was nice talking to you. I’m sure we’ll be seeing more of each other.”
That was the final straw. “Out,” Alejandro snapped, his voice sharp.
Antonio offered a slight grin, barely there. Then he exited, letting the door close behind him with a soft click that somehow felt louder in the silence.
“Stay here, I’m going to go murder him,” Alejandro told her and he went after Antonio.
As soon as the door closed, she rushed back to her phone right on time as it began buzzing.
She blinked and nced down and the name on the screen turned her blood to ice.
<b>It </b>was her sister.
The air thickened. Her hands trembled slightly as she reached for the phone, dread pooling in her gut like cement.
They never called for good things. Not hey father. Not <i>her </i>sister. And definitely not both.
<b>1/3 </b>
17:00 <b>Wed</b>, 23 <b>Jul </b>
<b>She </b><b>stared </b>at the screen, hoping it would top, but it kept vibrating. Persistent. Demanding. Like it always had been,
She debated letting it ring out. Pretending she didn’t see it. Pretending she wasn’t who she used to be. But she knew better.
<b>If </b>she didn’t pick up, it would only
worse.
With a resigned sigh and the sting of
she had no intention of revisiting, she answered.
“Hello?”
The voice on the other end was sharp, Icy. Perfectly poised, as always.
“Finally. Do you not keep your phone on you anymore? Or do you enjoy ignoring your family?”
Nivera gritted her teeth. “Nice to hear from you too, Vivian.”
“Don’t be snide. You’re already in enough trouble as it is.”
Her chest tightened. That voice always made her feel small. Like the version of her she fought so hard to kill off every day was still very much alive <b>in </b><b>the </b>background.
Vivian continued, her words likeshes. “What the hell were you thinking? Posing with a man like that–in public, no less. Have you seen the inte<b>? </b><b>Do </b>you have any idea what you’ve done?”
“I didn’t pose with anyone,” Nivera said, her voice a little too soft.”
“Your pictures are everywhere, Nivera. Everywhere. Dad is furious. You know what that means.‘
Goosebumps erupted over her skin. Her fingers clenched the phone tighter.
“Vivian, I-”
“No,” her sister cut in. “Save it. He wants to see you. You’re expected back. Immediately.”
“Back? You mean-”
“There’s <b>a </b>car waiting for you outside the Garciapany.”
<b>“</b><b>1 </b>
The words hit her like a p and her knees nearly buckled. She grabbed the edge of Alejandro’s desk to steady herself.
Not again. She couldn’t go back there. That house. That man. That version of herself.
Would it help if she asked Vivian to bail her out? No that wouldn’t work, she didn’t care. She never did.
“suggest you don’t make him wait,” her sister said, voice colder now, clipped. “Unless you want to provoke him again.”
Nivera didn’t respond and Vivian hung up.
She stood there, phone still against her ear long after the call had ended<b>, </b>as if hoping–praying–that something would change.
Maybe Alejandro woulde in through the door and stop her. Tell her she didn’t have to go. Lock the door again. Just<b>… </b>something.
She waited, but nothing happened<i>. </i>Quietly, carefully, she grabbed her bag and began to move towards the door<b>, </b>every step was heavier <b>than </b><b>the </b><bst</b>.
Her fingers curled around the doorknob and she turned it praying <b>it </b>would be locked but this time, it opened.
There was <i>no </i>sign of Alejandro around <b>and </b><b>she </b>made her <b>way </b>to the elevator.
The ride was silent and Nivera clutched her phone <b>so </b>tightly her knuckles went white.
<b>2/3 </b>
<b>Cold </b>air tickled her skin, but the shivers running through her body had nothing to do with temperature.
The elevator doors slid open, and she made her way to the exit, ignoring the employees‘ curious look.
Waiting outside, just like her sister had said, was a sleek ck car. Dark–tinted windows. Discreet, silent, controlled. Just like everything <b>her </b>family did.
She hesitated by the entrance, the wind lifting strands of her hair as she looked back–just once.
There was still no Alejandro. Just the looming building, indifferent and still.
Her heart twisted. Taking a deep breath, Nivera descended the steps and climbed into the car.
The silence inside the vehicle was suffocating. The driver didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. She recognized him. One of the family’s many hired men faceless, loyal, and terrifyingly efficient.
The city blurred past the windows as they drove.
And with every mile, her confidence chipped away, leaving the shell of the girl she’d thought she’d buried behind when she left that house two years <b>ago</b><b>. </b>
She sat straighter, trying to brace herself. Her nails dug into the seat.
The longer the car moved, the more she could feel it–the suffocating weight of the past creeping back onto her <i>skin </i>like a second, unwantedyer.
She thought of her sister’s voice again. So sharp. So cold. She knew her father was livid as she had embarrassed him again yet again but being with <b>a </b>Garcia.
Her stomach twisted as she wondered what he had decided to do to her.
Maybe her mother would be able to step in and help her out. The thought made her scoff. Who was she kidding?
The drive was longer than she remembered. Or maybe the air just felt heavier now, every second dragged by the dread in her veins.
When the car finally pulled up to the estate, Nivera’s hands clenched tighter in herp.