<b>Chapter </b><b>111 </b>
<b>The </b><b>car </b>glided down the quiet streets, the deep hum of the engine muffled behind the tinted windows.
Inside, the atmosphere was heavier than the night sky outside.
Nivera sat rigidly beside Alejandro in the back seat, her hands tightly sped in herp.
Her jaw ticked, her eyes repeatedly cutting sideways at him with growing irritation.
Her posture was tense with barely concealed annoyance. She looked nothing like theposed, radiant woman who had prepared hours earlier <b>for </b><b>the </b>dinner at her family mansion–all thanks to Alejandro.
He’d chosen the absolute worst time to get intimate with her–again. And now, after hastily taking a bath to clean herself up, she looked a mess, at least in her own eyes.
There hadn’t been time to fix her hair properly, redo her makeup, or even select a new dress that matched her usual elegance. She felt off bnce. <b>And </b><b>it </b>was his fault.
Meanwhile, the devil looked infuriatingly at ease. He wore loose ck pants and a crisp shirt<b>–</b>untucked, with the first two buttons undore, revealing <b>a </b>sliver of skin and a chain against his corbone.
He looked like a man heading to his own lounge, not an aristocratic family dinner.
He held a tablet in his hands, scrolling through something mindlessly, his thumb gliding over the screen in no apparent hurry.
Martins sat in the front seat beside the driver, silent but aware.
Every so often, his eyes flicked to the rearview mirror, where the reflection of his boss sat casually reclined, scrolling through his tablet like they weren’t minuteste to a family dinner hosted by one of the most powerful patriarchs in the city.
Alejandro felt her eyes on him again. This time, he didn’t ignore it. He sighed dramatically and turned to her, tilting his head.
“Is there a reason you’ve been ring at me like that for thest ten minutes?” he asked, voice maddeningly light.
Nivera clenched her fists, nced briefly at the back of Martins‘ head, then muttered in a low but sharp voice, “We’rete,”
Alejandro lifted a brow. “And whose fault is that?”
She gave him a pointed look. “Yours.”
That was when his smirk deepened, and a mischievous glint danced in his eyes. “You were the one who begged me to fuc-”
She lunged without thinking, pping her palm across his mouth before he could finish the sentence, as her cheeks med instantly. “Shut up!” she hissed,
Alejandro’s brows rose, clearly amused. He let her hand linger on his mouth for a moment, his gaze unreadable, before she snatched it <b>back</b>.
She red at him, then flicked her eyes toward Martins and the driver, both of whom were staring dead ahead like they hadn’t heard <b>and </b><b>under </b>what Alejandro had wanted to say–but she wasn’t stupid. Alejandro hadn’t exactly whispered.
The satisfied glint in Alejandro’s eyes said he knew it too.
Flustered and furious, she turned sharply <b>to </b>face the window, focusing on the blur of the night–lit city.
<b>She </b>tried not to dwell on how he had kissed her palm moments <b>ago </b>or how he seemedpletely unaffected–while she felt like <b>her </b>nerves <b>were </b>hanging out of her skin.
<b>Silence </b>filled <b>the </b>car again, save for the gentle hum of the engine and the asional <b>turn </b>signal. Minutester, the <b>iron </b>gates <b>of </b>the Elton <b>family </b><b>estate </b>came into view, and Nivera sighed as the sight of it made her stomach twist,
The wrought–iron gates slowly peeled open, revealing the mansion she had grown up in. Cold, beautiful, and suffocating.
The sleek ck car pulled up to the front of the grand staircase momentster..
Alejandro fingers shut the tablet, and he looked over at her.
Her hand had gone limp in herp, and her posture–so upright before–now looked like she was folding into herself. Her breath hitched once<b>, </b>subtle <b><i>but </i></b>noticeable.
“We’re alreadyte,” Alejandro said, his voice low. “Wasting more time trying to gather yourposure is pointless.”
Nivera’s head snapped toward him, and a harsh whisper slipped out before she could stop it. “You’re infuriating.”
“I’ve been told,” he replied, utterly unfazed.
She pushed the door open and stepped out.
Alejandro chuckled softly as he nced toward Martins. “Be careful<i>,</i>” he said. His voice dropped an octave. “And alert the boys to be ready. Just in <b>case</b><b>.</b><b>” </b>
“Yes, sir.”
Alejandro then got out, adjusted his shirt, and walked over to where Nivera stood frozen at the base of the stairs.
Without a word, he reached out, wrapped his fingers around her hand, and led her forward.
The door opened before they reached it, and standing there, tall and mighty, framed by the marble arch and chandeliers<b>, </b>was Matthew Elton.
Nivera swallowed hard.
“You’rete,” her father said, his deep voice unamused and perfectly calm–a tone far more terrifying than outright anger.
Alejandro’s lips curved smoothly as the mask everyone knew and loved was back on. “We had a little… wardrobe malfunction. Couldn’t let my womane here anything less than radiant, now, could I?”
Matthew’s eyes narrowed, as he could see the possessive tone in Alejandro’s voice especially as he said ‘my woman‘ but he stepped aside to let them in.
“Everyone’s already at the table,” he said. “Let’s not waste any more time.”
The hallway was as grand as ever–white marble floors, gold fixtures, and oil paintings of long–dead ancestors watching over them with eyes full of judgement.
Nivera’s heels clicked against the stone as she led Alejandro through the corridor. Her hand was still in his, though her palm had gone mmy.
When they entered the dining room<i>, </i>she saw them immediately.
Her mother, her older brother, Liam, and her sister, Vivian.
And sitting beside Vivian, dressed in an expensive navy suit and smiling politely as if he belonged there<b>, </b>was Ss Monroe.
His gaze lifted from his te the instant they walked in. There was a flicker of something in his eyes–surprise, longing, <b>maybe </b><b>even </b><b>anger</b><b>–</b><b>but </b><b>it </b><b>was </b>gone too fast to decipher
The room spun<b>. </b>
Her blood turned to ice as her lungs refused to pull in air.
She <b>froze</b>, her feet stopping short on the polished floor, her hand falling from Alejandro’s.
Alejandro noticed the change in Nivera before he noticed anything else.
His eyes slid from her tense face to the line of her gaze… and then to the man who had just looked up to meet Nivera’s eyes.
He felt the way her body stiffened.
The man tilted his head, studying her with mild interest. But Alejandro was watching closely enough to catch the twitch in his expression–the subtle satisfaction in his smirk, the flicker of tension in Nivera’s jaw.
He moved without speaking. His hand slid behind her back, not roughly, but deliberately.
She jolted at the touch as a tiny gasp escaped her lips, and she snapped back into her body.
Alejandro leaned close, whispering just beside her ear. “You know I’m here?!”
It wasn’t a question; it was his way of reassuring her, and it meant a lot to her.
“Nivera, Alejandro, Come. Sit,” Aria said to them.
There were two empty seats at the long mahogany table–directly across from Ss and Vivian.
Alejandro, still observing Nivera withser focus, gently nudged her forward. She walked stiffly to her seat, taking it without looking up. Alejandro sat
beside her with deliberate calm.
The clink of silverware. The gentle sound of sses being refilled. Chatter resumed at the table as if nothing had happened.
But Nivera was fidgeting.
She kept touching her napkin, then adjusting her fork. Her leg bounced beneath the table. Her chest rose and fell unevenly, and she hadn’t touched <b>her </b>
drink.
Alejandro didn’t pretend not to notice.
He leaned back, and his arm went to grab hers, which was under the table.
She was unravelling.
Her eyes darted again to Ss, and Alejandro followed the look. The man caught his gaze and raised his ss in a polite gesture<b>–</b>too polite.
Alejandro didn’t return the smile. He loved pretending, but now wasn’t one of such times.
He leaned closer to Nivera, his voice pitched just low enough for her alone. “Do you want to leave?”
As much as he found the whole dinner amusing and for his entertainment, he wasn’t going to do so at the expense of Nivera, who looked like she was on the verge of having a panic attack.
Her jaw tensed, and her voice cracked as she answered. “No, I’m fine.”
Alejandro’s expression darkened, if only by a fraction. He faced forward again, eyes trained on Ss Monroe<b>. </b>
A name he hadn’t seen in the folders. A name he would now be learning everything about by sunrise.
The dinner had only just begun–but the real game was about to start.
Alejandro took his first bite, eyes cold, mind already calcting.
And beside him, Nivera tried not <b>to </b>fall apart. Her other hand found her napkin and twisted it in her <bp</b><b>, </b><b>her </b><b>knuckles </b><b>pale</b>.
She barely heard what her mother was saying. Her ears were ringing.
Ss was there. She could feel his eyes on her. That familiar gaze made her skin crawl.
She hadn’t known he would be here. She wasn’t prepared.
Who was she kidding? No matter how much preparation she had, it would never be enought