<b>Chapter </b><b>122 </b>


    The moment the front door closed behind them, Alejandro exhaled deeply and ran a hand down his face.


    The moonlight filtered in through the tall ss windows, casting silver lines across the floor. He nced at Nivera as she moved slowly, her steps slow with exhaustion.


    “Go upstairs,” he said softly. “Get some rest. I have a few things to discuss with Martins<b>.</b><b>” </b>


    She nodded, her face unreadable. But he could see the fatigue written in her posture, in the way her shoulders dropped with each step.


    Once she was out of sight, Alejandro moved to the living room and slumped onto the sofa, one hand reaching to loosen


    the cor of his shirt.


    The adrenaline that had carried him through thest couple of minutes had finally worn off, and he felt the weight of the day settle over him like a damp cloak.


    Martins walked in from the hall, a bottle of water in hand, his face hard and unreadable.


    “What do you have for me?” Alejandro asked, voice rough.


    Martins sat opposite him and stared for a second before sighing.


    “You shouldn’t have taken that path,” he scowled, his voice tight with frustration. “It was dangerous.”


    Alejandro lifted a brow and shrugged, still sprawled on the sofa. “Now, how was I supposed to know?<i>” </i>


    “You’ve been down that road before, Alejandro,” Martins snapped. “Thest time you did, you almost got killed!”


    Alejandro raised both brows and blinked like he’d just remembered. “Oh… right. That. I totally forgot–I’ve been in too many life–and–death situations to keep track. My bad.”


    Martins stared at him, unamused. “You joke too much for a man with a target on his back.”


    “At least I’m consistent,<i>” </i>Alejandro replied with a half–smile.


    “But she’s not,” Martins snapped, the tone of a scolding brother creeping into his voice. “If you don’t care about your life,


    at least let hers matter.”


    Alejandro’s smirk faded. Just like that, the yful mask slipped, revealing something darker and more serious underneath as his jaw tightened. “She’s fine. Nothing happened. I made sure of that.”


    “Of course you did,” Martins hummed, though his tone was still taut with tension. “But next time, don’t gamble with your safety.”


    Alejandro didn’t reply to that. He rubbed a hand across his face, jaw tight.


    Silence fell between them for a moment, until Alejandro cleared his throat. “Any updates on Aria or Liam?”


    Martins huffed. “I’d have gotten further if I didn’t have to reroute and save your ass tonight.”


    “Is this you asking me to fire you?”


    “Please do. God knows I could use a break. At least then I’d get one moment of peace.”.


    Despite himself, Alejandro chuckled. It was a low, tired sound, but it broke some of the tension in the room.


    “You love working for me,” Alejandro said.


    “I tolerate working for you,” Martins corrected, smirking. “There’s a difference.”


    Alejandro chuckled. A short, realugh. “Don’t tempt me.”


    “You wouldn’tst a day without me.”


    “You sound just like my mother.”


    Martins shook his head, but a small grin tugged at his lips.


    Alejandro’s expression softened as the mood shifted. The teasing stopped, and for a brief moment, the air in the room felt like it belonged to two brothers sharing the same tired heart.


    “Thanks for tonight,” Alejandro said after a beat.


    Martins stood and gave him a look that said, You owe me more than words. “Try not to get killed before I get back. I’ll keep digging into Aria and Liam.”


    “Noted.”


    As the door shut behind Martins, Alejandro rubbed a hand across his face and groaned. His body ached, and the smell of


    the road clung to his clothes.


    He got up and headed upstairs, his mind already craving the hot water of a shower.


    Meanwhile, warm water cascaded over her skin like a nket, but no amount of heat could wash off the night from her body.


    Nivera stood under the shower, one hand pressed to the cold tile wall, the other tangled in her hair as water soaked every


    inch of her.


    Her thoughts swirled, wild and fast, as images from the day yed back in sharp detail.


    The day had started badly–Alejandro had unearthed the truth about what Ss had done.


    Her secrets, her shame… it had alle pouring out. She thought he’d use it against her. But he didn’t.


    Then, somehow, it got better after they left Antonio and Zabelle’s mansion.


    The restaurant, the elderly couple, and Alejandro’s past. It felt like stepping into another world–one where he wasn’t a ruthless man with darkness in his eyes but just a boy who’d once been lost and saved by kindness.


    She’dughed today, genuinelyughed and for a few hours, she’d almost forgotten everything else


    And then… the road. The detour, the ambush.


    Her heart clenched as she remembered the moment the car had slowed. The way her fingers had instinctively reached for Alejandro’s.


    How his voice had soothed her even while his eyes remained sharp, calcting, and calm in the face of danger.


    When did that happen? When had he be her anchor?


    She touched her lips, remembering the words he’d said tofort her. The way he’d ced himself between her and danger.


    How his body had been tense, ready to strike, and yet somehow–he’d made her feel safe.


    He always made her feel safe. That was the scariest part.


    She leaned her head against the tile and closed her eyes.


    He hadn’t panicked. Not once. Even when surrounded, even when they were outnumbered. He’d protected her like it was


    instinct.


    And she had clung to him like he was her anchor. Because he was.


    She let out a shuddering breath.


    What am I doing?


    This was Alejandro, arrogant, dangerous, infuriating, possessive, and controlling..


    And yet…


    He brought her breakfast when she sulked. He walked her through her darkest memories without pushing too hard. He made herugh when she wanted to scream. And he looked at her like she mattered–like she wasn’t just a pawn or a


    burden.


    Nivera opened her eyes, staring at the water cascading down her arms.


    For weeks, she’d tried to deny it. She told herself it was just proximity. That she was confused.


    That this man–the one who took her passport, who ckmailed her, who kept her in a golden cage–was her enemy.


    But enemies didn’t make one feel this way.


    Enemies didn’t risk themselves for your safety. They didn’t look at you like you mattered. They didn’t give you peace when the world was copsing.


    She was falling for him.


    She could no longer pretend otherwise.


    Nivera blinked against the sting in her eyes, unsure if it was the water or something else.


    She didn’t want to fall for him. She didn’t even know if she could trust him. But she couldn’t deny it anymore.


    She turned off the shower, wrapping a towel around herself as she stood before the foggy mirror. She looked at her reflection, still dripping, heart still thudding.


    Maybe this is what they mean when they say love and danger go hand in hand.


    Because she was falling, had fallen, and there was no going back.