<b>Chapter </b><b>145 </b>
The house was once quiet again as there was no one else in the
Marceline’s footsteps had long since faded, yet her words still pressed on Alejandro like weights strapped to his chest.
He remained at the dining table for longer than he realized, staring at the polished wood of the dining table.
You are not your father.
The words clung and wed at him. They however had no right to.
Tired of staying downstairs, he turned and headed for the stairs, his stride sharp.
By the time he reached his bedroom, his jaw ached from being clenched too tightly.
He yanked his tie free, tossed it aside, then unbuttoned his shirt roughly. His chest rose and fell heavily, as if he’d just finished a fight.
In some ways, he had.
Alejandro stripped off the rest of his clothes and strode into the bathroom.
The steam immediately filled the bathroom making the mirrors of the ss doors blurred and the tiled walls closed in.
The water was hot enough to burn, hot enough to sear his skin red and that was what he wanted.
A pain sharp enough to drown everything else out. That had always been his go–to–method whenever he was in pain. H that wasn’t physical.
He would purposely suffer cause himself pain physically to get his mind off the mental one.
But this time, it didn’t.
He ced both of his hands against the cold marble wall, his head bowed, and his eyes shut tight.
“You are not your father, Alejandro.”
He clenched his jaw, as if grinding his teeth could grind down the memory of his mother’s voice.
His chest rose and fell with uneven breaths, the droplets cascading down his back and they burned.
She didn’t understand. She thought she knew, but she didn’t. Nobody did.
Nobody but him had lived with that shadow–the shadow of a man who’d destroyed everything he touched. A man whose blood ran in his veins.
What he had let on to his mother was fat lesser than than what he had gone through in the hands of his father.
And as he thought about his father, his mind decides to take him on a trip down memoryne.
“You’re my son, Alejandro, the one I love the most and I’ll tell you that love is a beautiful thing. Just like I love you and your mother.”
His lips curved into a bitter, humorless smirk as he remembered his father smiling at him as if he meant him all the good in <b>the </b>world.
He let out a bitterugh that was swallowed by the steam.
Afraid? He wasn’t afraid. He didn’t fear anything. He’d built his life on control, on never letting anyone close <b>enough </b><b>to </b><b>wound </b><b>him</b>. <b>Fear </b><b>was </b><b>weakness </b>
And yet-
<b>1/4 </b>
19:35
Tue, 20 Aug
的
“You’re madly in love with her, aren’t you?”
The words echoed louder than the water pounding against his skin.
He growled low in his throat, shoving himself upright and running a wet hand through his hair as though that could shake the voice any
Love? No. He didn’t love her. He couldn’t.
Love was weakness. Love was what made his mother cry into her pillow when she thought no one was watching,
Love was what turned his father into a tyrant when the woman he wanted to cage slipped through his fingers.
Love was what made his father do those sick and twisted things to him.
Alejandro tilted his head back, letting the water strike his face until his skin flushed red.
If he loved Nivera–if he even let himself consider it–what then? He would cage her too. Break her, the way his father had broken his mother. Crush her spirit until there was nothing left but obedience?
The thought made his stomach twist. He could almost see her face in his mind–those defiant eyes, that sharp tongue, the way she had stood her ground tonight and thrown his words back at him with fire in her voice.
“No,” he muttered aloud, the word swallowed by steam. “Not love. Never love.”
It was pride. That was all. She had disrespected him, embarrassed him, undermined him. His anger was justified. His fury was about reputation, about control, about the order he needed in his world.
That was the truth. That was the reason he had brought her into his house in the first ce.
“Imagine a world without her in it. Are you happy in it, or does it make you annoyed?”
Alejandro’s eyes snapped open. His breath hitched in his throat before he cursed under it. He loved his mother but damn, she really didn’t have to say those things to him.
As annoyed as he was, he tried to picture it; a world without Nivera. A world where he didn’t have toe home to her, where he didn’t have to argue with her, didn’t have to feel that pull in his chest every time she lifted her chin and refused to bow to him.
It should have been a relief.
But the image wouldn’t form. The mansion felt empty in the picture, hollow. The dining table stretched long and cold, the hallways echoing, the nights quieter than he could bear.
Why had that be a problem when that was how he lived <i>his </i>life before she came in?
1
And in his mind’s eye, he saw himself sitting alone, a ss of whiskey in hand, and the silence swallowing him whole.
For a split second–just one–something twisted in his chest. Loneliness. The kind that wed deep.
Alejandro let out a harshugh and shoved off the wall<b>, </b>running both hands over his face as if he could scrub the thought away.
Pathetic.
He was fucking pathetic
And yet—Nivera’s face <i>kept </i>flickering before him, the way she had looked at him at dinner.
That sweet smile she had given Marceline while she threw daggers at him with <i>her </i>eyes. <i>The </i>tremor of anger <b>in </b><b>her </b>voice <b>when she </b><b>told </b><b>him </b><b>he </b><b>didn’t</b><b>.. </b>
own <i>her</i>.
00:35 Tue, 26 Aug
M
She was infuriating but he actually liked that he was
He stammed one hand paint the marble, the sound sharp and paving any that the
This was what his mother didn’t understand. This wat why he couldn’t give in
Because if he admitted even a sliver of what she said was true, then it would be at vera’s and his detriment
He wasn’t ready to be a ve to such a feeling
That was it, his resolved hardened and there was nothing not even the fact that his mother’s wardy hapt dehoing in his heat
“You keep running, you keep pushing her away, one day she will leave you. And when she does, you will be the one t
No. He wouldn’t suffer. He didn’t need her. He didn’t need anyone.
And yet, even as he told himself that, he remembered Nivera in the emerald dress, her eyes catching the light as she spent ever had caught the attention of not only everyone at the party but the Inte as well.
He had wanted to freeze that moment, trap it, keep it only for himself.
He mmed the faucet off so hard he was surprised he didn’t burst the pipes.
He then stepped out with water dripping down his body. He grabbed a towel, dried himself briskly, and stepped back into the bedroom
Alejandro dressed in silence, tugging the dark shirt over his damp skin with sharp, movements.
Looking around the room, he sighed as he knew he wasn’t going to be getting any sleep. If only… no, he shut the thought out of his mind
The thought of lying in this darkened room with only his thoughts forpany was unbearable.
He could go straight to his study, pour himself a drink, and bury himself in numbers and contracts until the world would be forgotten.
That was the best solution.
With that in mind, he headed out of his room. However instead of going to his study, his steps across the hall to her room.
He slowed when he reached her door. The handle was cool beneath his hand as he turned it slowly, careful not to make a sound.
The room inside was dark, the air heavy with the faint, sweet scent that clung to her–roses and something warmer, something uniquely her
Even in the darkness, he could make out Nivera curled on her side, one arm tucked beneath her pillow, the other resting across the nket that had slipped halfway down her frame. Her breathing was slow, steady, the kind that came only with exhaustion.
Alejandro lingered in the doorway, his hand still on the knob. He was so tempted to sleep beside her so he would be able to get some sleep but he didn’t give in to that temptation.
God, she looked… peaceful. He thought to himself as he returned his attention back to her.
Not fiery, not snapping, not ring at him with those eyes that threatened to burn him alive. Just–peaceful.
He took one step inside and before he knew it he was at her bed. Her lips parted slightly and he noticed that the faintest strand of hair <b>had </b>fallen across her cheek.
He told himself he was only here to ensure she was safe. That was it. A simple check. Nothing more. <b>It </b><b>was </b>his house, after all. His responsibility.
But he knew that wasn’t it. She was always going to be safe in his mansion,
He wanted to reach out, to brush that strand of hair back, to let his hand linger against her skin but doing so meant him <b>risking </b><b>her </b><b>waking </b><b>up</b><b>. </b>
09:35 Tue, 26 Aug 0
<b>M </b>
And even a blind man could see how awkward the situation would be.
And that–that was why he couldn’t.
With a low sigh, he forced himself to step back.
He gave her onest look then he exhaled, long and low, and pulled the door gently closed.
Alejandro straightened his shoulders, locked his jaw, and walked away as though nothing had happened.
However as he made his way away, each step felt heavier than thest.