<b>Chapter 113 </b>
The night air was cooler than expected when Alejandro and Nivera stepped outside the mansion.
The moon hung high, casting silver light across the driveway as they made their way down the stairs.
Martins stood waiting at the bottom of the steps. His sharp eyes scanned them both<b>, </b>his arms folded <b>until </b><b>he caught </b>Alejandro’s gaze. “How was dinner?” he asked, voice low but carrying amusement.
Alejandro gave a scoff. “Delightful. If you enjoy smiling at people, you want to shoot.”
Martins chuckled as he stepped forward and opened the backseat door. “Yousted longer than I expected<b>.” </b>
Alejandro gave him a dry look but said nothing. He turned to Nivera, who still looked pale but carried herself with practiced elegance.
He held out a hand. She took it silently, her fingers cold against his palm. Gently, he helped her into the backseat <b>before </b>sliding in after her.
Once Martins was in and the car doors shut, the driver started the engine. The vehicle moved smoothly onto the road. <b>the </b>soft hum of the tires mixing with the muted sounds of the city night.
Inside the car, it was peaceful. Alejandro leaned back, rotating his wrist slightly as if the dinner had been a workout. <b>Out </b><b>of </b>the corner of his eye, he nced at Nivera.
Her head was resting against the headrest, tilted slightly to one side. Her eyes were closed, but there was a small smile ying on her lips.
He stared at that smile for a moment. It made something shift in his chest, that familiar pull he had tried to ignore when it came to her.
Even when she hated him, even when she insulted him with fire in her eyes–there was something maddeningly captivating about her.
He mirrored her smile unknowingly, then <i>pull </i>
out his tablet from the back of Martin’s seat.
As usual, work was waiting for him as he was bombarded with a lot of emails.
He tapped through a few business reports, and then his eyes caught on a notification. A message from Antonio.
Curious, he opened it. There were three messages, all sent within thest hour:
Antonio: Are you attending the g tomorrow?
Antonio: Alejandro? You’re going to leave me to deal with all this alone, aren’t you?
Antonio: Don’t make me suffer alone
A smirk curled on Alejandro’s lips. Without replying, he locked the tablet and tossed <b>it </b></divzily <b>onto </b><b>the </b>seat <b>beside </b><b>him</b>.
It was Antonio’s turn to endure the torment of high society events and fake smiles. <b>Alejandro </b><b>had </b><b>done </b><b>enough </b><b>while </b>
<b>1/4 </b>
Chapter <b>113 </b>
<b>Antonio </b><b>was </b>busy with <b>his </b>wedding and honeymoon.
“Your turn<b>, </b>brother,” he muttered.
He was about to rest his arm against the door when something soft pressed against his shoulder. He turned <b>slightly </b>to find Nivera, her head now leaning on him, fast asleep.
For a moment, he didn’t move.
Her hair smelt faintly ofvender, and her body was warm and soft, moulded against his side inplete <b>trust</b><b>. </b>
He could hardly believe it. This was the same woman who once said she would gut him in his sleep.
Carefully, Alejandro adjusted his posture so she could rest morefortably. One of his arms came around her <b>shoulder </b>gently, anchoring her as she shifted slightly with a sleepy sigh.
His eyes returned to the tablet, but his mind wasn’t on it anymore. It was on the woman sleeping against him and <b>the </b>chaos she had unknowingly brought into his life, while Nivera, unaware, remained curled gently against him.
By the time they arrived at the estate, the night had deepened. The lights of the mansion glowed softly from the inside<b>, </b>and the guards opened the gate without dy.
The driver parked near the entrance.
Alejandro didn’t bother waking Nivera. Instead, he unbuckled his seatbelt and gently lifted her into his arms.
She stirred only slightly, burying her face against his chest like a kitten seeking warmth.
Martins opened the door for him, and he walked into the mansion with her cradled against him.
Inside, the lights had been dimmed to a soft amber glow. The hallway was quiet, the kind of quiet that came after a long day when even the walls seemed to sigh.
Alejandro carried Nivera straight to her room.
As he gentlyid her down on the bed, she let out a small, contented sigh and curled into the sheets. The moment her back touched the bed, her entire body rxed.
Then, her voice came–groggy, soft, and vulnerable. “Will you be here when I wake up?”
He paused, staring at her in surprise.
Her eyes were half–lidded, not entirely conscious, but the question had been genuine.
A rare, sincere smile bloomed on his face.
“I will,” he promised her quietly.
“Good.” And she smiled in return, eyes fluttering shut.
<b>2/4 </b>
Chapter <b>113 </b>
<b>He </b><b>pulled </b>the covers over her slowly, smoothing the nkets down. For several seconds, he just stood there, watching her <bmitting </b>the peaceful image of her sleeping face to memory<b>. </b>
Then, with onest look, he turned and exited the room.
Outside the mansion, Martins stood waiting near one of the garden paths, a cigarette unlit in one hand. His head lifted when Alejandro stepped into the open night air.
“You want someone investigated?” he asked without hesitation, as that was the usual.
Alejandro stopped a few feet from him, looking out toward the tall trees that surrounded the estate.
“No,” Alejandro said after a beat. “I doubt you’ll find what I’m looking for.”
Martins arched a brow. “What’s going on?”
Alejandro’s voice was low. “Vivian’s husband. He was still at that table. And no one noticed how ufortable she looked. No one caught the way her fingers twitched or how she stared at her wine ss like it was an escape route.”
He paused and continued. “Not even Aria or Liam. They allughed and smiled like nothing was wrong.”
Martins remained silent, waiting.
Alejandro exhaled and began to pace slightly. “Aria and Liam… they are not predictable or transparent like Vivian and
Matthew, and I don’t like that.”
Alejandro paused as he gave some thought to the situation.
“I could easily tell that Vivian and the stupid old man would be a problem at the dinner; their ambition was like a foul scent–you could smell it from a mile away. But the other two–they are different.”
“You’re going to have to borate,” Martins stated.
Alejandro’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Aria came after Vivian for calling Nivera a slut, and she chuckled when Liam attacked Vivian. It was low, but I heard it.”
“She wouldn’t do so if she was against Nivera.”
“Exactly. I noticed how she watched Nivera. Not once during dinner did she look at her with anger or irritation. She looked happy to see her, if anything, but then she saw her difort–and did nothing until that moment.”
“And Liam?”
Alejandro scoffed. “He’s harder to read<i>. </i>He seems harmless until you realize he’s the one always collecting information, always whispering into people’s ears. He didn’t talk much tonight, but his eyes were never still. He was watching.”
Martins finally lit the cigarette, taking a short drag before speaking. “So, what are you saying?”
Alejandro’s gaze darkened. “They’re more dangerous than Vivian and Liam ever were. Because they pretend <b>better</b><b>. </b><b>What </b>if
<b>14/15 </b>
1
<b>C </b>
<b>two </b>members acting like they care is a way for them to get into Nivera’s head and convince her <b>that </b><b>they </b><b>are </b><b>on </b>their side so they get her toe back?”
Martins looked at him, the orange glow from the cigarette illuminating his face. “You want me to look <b>into them </b><b>again</b><b>? </b>
“In–depth,” Alejandro said firmly. “I don’t want surface information. I want everything. Their private conversations, finances, and connections outside the country. I want to know what Aria does in her free time and who Liam <b>talks </b><b>to </b><b>when </b>he thinks no one’s watching.<b>” </b>
“Understood.”
“I think they’re preparing for something,” Alejandro muttered. “And I don’t like not knowing what it is.”
Martins nodded, flicking the ash off his cigarette. “I’ll get started tomorrow.”
“Hmm.”
With that, Alejandro turned back toward the house. His hand was already reaching for his phone, sending silent messages to other contacts across the city–names, favours, and debts he intended to collect.
As he walked toward the warm glow of the mansion, his expression shifted back to something colder.
Speaking of Ss, only Nivera could answer the question of what he had done to her, but if his suspicions were right, then no one–not even God–would save the bastard from him.”