<b>Chapter </b><b>156 </b>
The door to her room shut behind her with a soft click. For the first time that day, Nivera felt like she could breathe without eyes burning into her back.
Her legs wobbled, not from Vivian’s p anymore, but from the exhaustion of everything that had unfolded.
Nivera leaned against the door for a moment, the ice pack now nothing but a melting bag of water in her hands. Her cheek throbbed, but it was nothingpared to the storm inside her chest.
She crossed the room slowly and copsed onto the edge of the bed. For a few seconds, she simply sat there, staring at her reflection in the ck screen of her phone.
For a few seconds, she simply sat there, staring at her reflection in the ck screen of her phone. A face she barely recognized stared back–eyes swollen with exhaustion, hair in disarray, and that faint red mark where Vivian’s palm hadnded.
With a shaky inhale, she turned.
The screen lit up, and the first notification ring back at her was from the news app.
She tapped it.
There it was. Again.
BREAKING: SILAS PIERCE ARRESTED.
The headline was bold, unforgiving. Her chest constricted as she pressed y on the video clip.
It started the same way it had downstairs: Ss being dragged out of a hotel, cameras shing wildly.
Reporters shouted his name, microphones shoved in his face, their questions sharpened like knives: “Is it true, Mr. Pierce?” “How many girls?” “Do you deny the trafficking allegations?”
His expression–a mixture of fury and humiliation–was something she had dreamed of seeing for years but had never thought possible.
Her throat tightened. Her eyes blurred. She didn’t realize she was crying until the first tear fell onto the screen of her phone.
Nivera pressed the video again. Then again. Watching it on repeat, as if she needed to convince herself it was real. That this man–this monster who had once tried to shatter her—was finally being broken himself.
Her lips trembled, curling into a fragile smile even as more tears streaked her cheeks. “Finally,” she whispered, her voice breaking on the word.
Finally, he was getting what he deserved.
For years she had carried the shadow of Ss like a chain around her neck, the memory of what he had tried to do to her seared into her bones. The fights. The nights she woke sweating, thinking he’de for her.
And now–just like that–he was in handcuffs, his empire crumbling for the world to see.
Her body shook with a mix of relief and grief–the kind of grief that came from carrying a weight so long that its sudden absence felt unbearable.
She wiped her cheeks roughly, angry at herself for crying at all. <i>She </i>should be celebrating, not weeping.
And yet, in the deepest part of her chest, gratitude bloomed. She couldn’t deny it. This wasn’t fate. This wasn’t karma catching up to Ss. This was Alejandro.
She hated herself for admitting it, but it was true. Alejandro had done this. He had brought Ss down, dragged him into the light in a way she never could have dreamed. If not for him, she might have spent the rest of her life looking over her shoulder, waiting for Ss’s revenge.
<b>08:11 </b>Mon, 1 sept
She was grateful. Deeply, painfully grateful.
Her fingers trembled as she set the phone aside. Augh escaped her short, bitter, edged with disbelief. “Thank you,” she murmured into the imply room, though she knew she’d never say it to him.
Because gratitude didn’t erase the truth.
No matter what Alejandro had done for her, it didn’t excuse the way he had treated her. It didn’t erase the scars of his cruelty, the way he had looked at her like she was something disposable.
She was foolish–so foolish–for ever believing she could understand him. For letting her heart twist itself into knots around a man who thrived on control and shadows.
For thinking that maybe, if she tried hard enough, she
She had tried tried to peel back hisyers, tried to see inside him was a man worth saving.
the cruelty, the arrogance, the sharpness of his words. She had told herself that somewhere
And maybe there was. Maybe the broken boy who had grown up
But no more!
under Garcia’s merciless hand deserved some measure ofpassion.
Her mother’s words came back to her then, cutting through her chest like a de. “You never fight back, Nivera. You let people walk over you because you think there’s hope in them. But hope isn’t the same as strength.”
She closed her eyes, pressing the heel of her palm against them until stars burst behind her lids. God, her mother had been right.
Even when she had tried to fight Alejandro or even anyone, it had never been all the way. A part of her had always held back because deep down, she
said he was. had wanted him to care. She had wanted to believe he wasn’t the monster everyone
But she didn’t want that anymore.
She couldn’t.
Her chest ached, her throat tight as she whispered into the dimness of her room, “No more hope.”
If she was going to survive this–survive him–she needed to get out.
She pushed herself up from the bed, wiping her face clean with the back of her hand. She needed a n. She couldn’t keep floating in this mansion like a trapped bird.
First, she needed money. The credit card she’d been using was tied to Alejandro’s oversight, and she refused to be dependent <i>on </i>him another second longer. Tomorrow, she would go to the bank, apply for a new card in her own name. Whatever little funds she had left, she’d make them stretch.
It wasn’t much, but it would give her freedom.
Second: ie.
The modeling job she had just finished would pay out soon. It was a hefty amount, enough to keep her afloat for <i>months</i>. She would use that as a cushion, her ticket away <i>from </i>this suffocating life.
Second, she needed a ce to stay. Somewhere Alejandro wink to look, Somewhere quiet, out <b>of </b>reach, where <b>she </b><b>could </b>finally breathe
without his shadow pressing over her shoulder.
She immediately opened herptop.
Her fingers flew across the keyboard as she opened rental listings, scrolling through options<i>. </i>Apartments, condos, small homes. She didn’t need luxury. She didn’t need space. Just somewhere safe, somewhere she could call her own. Somewhere Alejandro would have no im to.
08 <b>Mon</b>, 156
Her heart pounded as she bookmarked a few listings—cheap ces on the outskirts of the city, tucked away in quiet neighborhoods.
It wasn’t perfect. But it was a start.
She sat back, exhaling shakily, pressing her palm against her chest as if to calm the storm inside. For the first time in days, she felt like she was <b>regaining </b>control.
She would leave.
She would carve out a life without Alejandro, without his shadow hovering over every choice she madel
No more hope. No more waiting for him to change. No more breaking herself over a man who had never cared enough to treat her as anything other than a piece on his board.
Her eyes lingered on theptop screen, her vision blurring again–not from tears this time, but from exhaustion. She had a n. A fragile one, but a n
nheless<b>. </b>
Shey back on the bed, curling into herself, whispering the steps under her breath like a mantra. “Bank. Card. Apartment. Freedom.”
Her heart twisted. She was grateful. She truly was. Alejandro had rid the world of Ss, had given her a kind of justice she never thought she’d see.
But she couldn’t let that gratitude chain her here.
She was getting out.
Meanwhile, just outside her door, Alejandro leaned against the wall, arms folded tight across his chest.
He had been standing there for nearly half an hour, his ears straining for any sign of her.
The muffled sound of herughter–broken, shaky–had reached him once, and it had twisted something sharp in his chest.
He closed his eyes, exhaling through his nose. He’d almost knocked. Twice. Three times. His hand had hovered near the doorknob more than once, fighting the urge to go in, to say something–anything.
But what could he say?
Sorry? He’d already said it, and she’d walked away. Please stay? He knew she wouldn’t. He could see it in her eyes, the way she was pulling herself further from him with every breath.
She was nning to leave him.
And that–God, that–hurt worse than all the fury she had ever thrown at him
The thought made his chest ache in a way he didn’t <i>“</i>ize.
He wasn’t used to this–this dull, persistent pain that wasn’t rage or vengeance.
His jaw clenched as he stared at her closed door. For years, he had mastered the art of control–of bending people to his will, of breaking them down until they bent. But with her? The harder he pushed, the further she slipped from his grasp.
And for the first time in his life, Alejandro didn’t know how to <b>fix </b>i
He could keep her here. He had the power, the means. One word to his men and she would never walk beyond these gates again.
But for the first time, he didn’t want her to stay because of chains. He wanted her to stay because she chose to.
And he didn’t know how to make her choose him.
He would find a way to make her stay.
1
08:11 Mon, 1 sept
Even if it meant learning to let her choose him instead of forcing her to
His jaw tightened, the muscle ticking, and he pushed himself away from the wall.
Quietly, he walked down the hall, leaving her door closed.
For now.
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