<b>Chapter 131 </b>


    The tires crunched softly over the gravel driveway as the car rolled to a stop in front of the mansion.


    The night air was thick and cool, heavy with the scent of wet earth after the earlier drizzle on their way back home.


    Nivera stepped out first, clutching her bag to her side, her gaze darting briefly toward the looming silhouette of the house and Alejandro who was getting out through the other side of the car.


    Alejandro came around to stand beside her, his expression unreadable under the soft glow of the porch light.


    They didn’t speak as they walked up the marble steps together.


    Somewhere in the back of her mind, Nivera had expected him to make a remark about the day – and especially about Damon as she knew he wasn’t one to let things slide so easily but he hadn’t.


    The front door opened before they could reach for it and the head helper came into view.


    “Good evening. Martins has been waiting for you, sir,” she informed Alejandro as she stepped so they could go in.


    They immediately headed to the living room and just like the helper had said, he was waiting.


    He sat in one of the armchairs near the firece, posture rxed but eyes alert, as always.


    Nivera wondered just how much he had seen and experienced while working with Alejandro to make him always alert.


    He rose to his feet at their entrance, his gaze shifting immediately to Alejandro before itnded on hers and he nodded as a sign of acknowledgement.


    “Good evening, ma’am,” he then greeted.


    “Good evening,” Nivera responded with a slight smile on her face.


    Her steps faltered, reading the unspoken tension between the two men.


    Whatever conversation they were about to have, she knew it wasn’t hers to hear.


    Without a word, she turned and made for the stairs, the soft sound of her steps trailing behind her. She didn’t look back, though she felt


    Alejandro’s gaze follow her until she disappeared onto thending.


    “Long night?” Martins spoke.


    “Something like that<i>,</i><i>” </i>Alejandro replied, his voice smooth.


    “Let’s take it to my study,” He then said quietly, already walking past Martins toward the corridor on the left. His tone wasn’t a suggestion–it was an order and Martins followed without a word.


    He could already guess that whatever Martins had to discuss had to do with Nivera and seeing the folder in Martins‘ hand, he wasn’t about to


    risk Niveraing down and finding out.


    Martins shut the door behind them and the world outside immediately ceased to exist.


    He then stepped forward, producing a ck leather folder from under his arm. The weight of it was significant – not in size, but in meaning.


    “This,” Martin said, cing it on Alejandro’s desk, “is what I’ve managed to dig up about Ss Monroe so far. If morees up, you’ll be the


    14:20 Wed, 13 Aug


    first to know.”


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    Alejandro didn’t sit. He stood over the desk, fingers resting lightly on the folder as if weighing its importance before opening it. Then, with a flick of his wrist, he spread it open.


    The first page was a profile as always.


    Name: Ss Monroe


    Age: 37


    upation: Corporate attorney, Monroe & Lane LLP


    Marital Status: Married to Vivian Elton (four years)


    Known Associations: Multiple high–profile clients, private investment groups, two undisclosed offshore ounts.


    There was a glossy photograph of the bastard in one of his tailored suits, grinning at some charity g.


    A man who, at first nce, could have been a politician or a billionaire phnthropist. But Alejandro didn’t look at smiles. He looked at eyes,


    and Ss’s eyes were the kind that smiled at nothing.


    It looked like it was going to be a long read and so he grabbed the folder and sank into the sofa in the room.


    “The man’s a walking scandal,” Martin stated. “It just hasn’t caught up with him yet. He’s got enough influence to keep things buried — for now. But once you’ve got your hand on the right strings, pulling them could bring his entire world down.”


    Alejandro flipped to the next page.


    It was a police report, dated three years ago. No charges filed. The alleged victim was a waitress from an exclusive club in the city. Her statement was detailed – the kind of detail you couldn’t invent without having lived it but the case had been quietly closed. Next to it, a memo from aw firm marked confidential, showing a sizable settlement.


    “She was twenty–two,” Martin said. “Barely paid her rent. Ss met her at one of those poker nights he hosts in his penthouse. The girl ims he got her drunk, locked the door, and…” Martin’s voice trailed, but the implication was clear. “A few dayster, she suddenly had enough


    money to ‘relocate.“”


    Alejandro’s jaw flexed, but he said nothing.


    -The next section was worse.


    There were photos- low–quality, grainy, but unmistakable. Ss in the back of a luxury car with a girl who couldn’t have been more than


    eighteen, maybe younger.


    The timestamps showed it was after midnight. There were two more simr sets of images, each with a different girl. The pattern was


    obvious.


    “He prefers them young,” Martin continued. “And he doesn’t care where theye from, as long as they don’t have the means to fight back. I traced a few of them to a modeling agency in the city. Not a reputable one more like a front. He’s a frequent ‘client.“”


    –


    Alejandro turned the page slowly.


    Another police report – this one involving a brawl at a private yacht party. Witness statements mentioned excessive drinking, cocaine, and a fight that broke out after Ss allegedly touched another man’s fiancée. Again, no charges. The witnesses either recanted or refused to


    testify.


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    152%


    “Every incident like this disappears in days,” Martin said. “Money, threats–or abination of both. He’s untouchable… at least until someone who isn’t afraid of him decides otherwise.”


    Alejandro reached the final section a set of photographs far more damning than the rest. Ss, in a hotel room, shirt half–off, with a woman whose face was buried against his neck. She was crying. In the background, on the dresser, was a phone recording the entire thing.


    Martin leaned back. “That one’s from a source I trust. She couldn’t go public he threatened her family. But she gave me permission to use it however I wanted. Her exact words were: ‘Make him burn.“”


    The room was silent for a long moment. The only sound was the faint ticking of the clock on the bookshelf.


    Alejandro closed the folder and rested both hands on it. His eyes were unreadable, but there was something cold in them – the kind of cold that promised only destruction.


    “This,” he said finally, “isn’t just dirt. This is a grave.”


    Martin smirked faintly. “And you’re the one holding the shovel.”


    “Very thorough,” he thenmended.


    Martins nodded once. “There’s more in there


    –


    bank records, private correspondence, some surveince stills. He’s been careful, but… he’s


    not untouchable. Every incident’s been buried, but the paper trail exists if you know where to dig.”


    “How did you get such information within a short time?” Alejandro inquired curiously.


    “Friend in the force. He owed me a favor.” Martins paused, then added, “Those weren’t easy to pull. They tie him to people you don’t want your name near. If you decide to use them, it’s a nuke noing back for him.”


    A slow, cold smile curved Alejandro’s mouth. “That’s the point, Martins.”


    Martins exhaled through his nose, as he knew he was going to have to do some major clean up. “Are you nning on using this now?”


    Alejandro finally looked up from the file, his gaze sharp enough to cut ss. “I’ll use it when it hurts most. A man like Ss – he survives scandal because people hit him when he’s ready for it. I want him unprepared. Cornered. No exits.”


    His tone wasn’t raised, but the menace in it was unmistakable.


    “You know Vivian’s caught in the middle,” Martins said after a beat. “This isn’t going to just destroy him. It’s going to take her down with him.”


    Alejandro closed the folder with deliberate care, the sound of the cardboard meeting echoing faintly in the quiet study.


    “Now what makes you think I’d care. If anything, I want her to go down with him whether she is aware of it or not!” Alejandro stated.


    The woman deserved no mercy from him, not especially after all she thrived on making Nivera’s life a living hell.


    Apart from her father, she was topping the list of people he wanted to destroy.


    After a moment, Alejandro opened the folder again, studying the photographs, the reports, the signatures at the bottom of silencedints. Every page was a weapon, and in his hands, weapons weren’t for show.


    He then got up and slid the folder into the bottom drawer of his desk – the one with a lock


    “Find me more,” he said. “The dirtier, the better. And Martins-”


    “Yeah?”


    ??????


    Alejandro’s gaze didn’t waver. “If you hear even a whisper that he’s nning to go near Nivera again, youe to me immediately.”


    Martins nodded once. “Understood.”


    Alejandro poured himself the rest of the whiskey in the decanter, the amber liquid catching the firelight.


    “Good. Now go get some sleep because I see sleepless nights in your future.” He dismissed.