<b>Chapter </b><b>160 </b>
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The clock on the wall ticked past work hours, but Alejandro wasn’t the least bit tired.
Thest report had just been signed off, which meant that he was done for the day.
He leaned back, twirling his pen between his fingers; he looked like a predator at rest but never fully rxed.
For hours, his thoughts had been circling back to the same thing–her. No matter how many contracts he signed, no matter how many problems he solved, Nivera lingered like a splinter beneath his skin.
She hadn’t touched her food yesterday until he pushed her into it. At dinner, she had ignored him, eyes sliding over him as though he didn’t exist. The memory made his jaw tighten.
Smirking faintly, he reached for his phone. By now, she would have returned from her little meeting with Celeste after the bank.
Even when he had said he didn’t care what she did, he knew her schedule by heart and where she was or had to be each day.
She had really gone to the bank, her first step in gaining freedom. He chuckled as he thought about it.
He had allowed it because Darren was glued to her side, but the idea of her walking free in the city without proper security had grated at his nerves all day.
Nivera could make all the ns in the world on how to get away from him, but the harder she tried, the more he would pull her closer.
His thumb hovered over Darren’s contact before he finally typed out a message:
Where is she?
The reply came swiftly, as expected.
Darren: On her way back. We should be home within minutes.
Alejandro’s lips curved. ‘Perfect,‘ he muttered to himself.
Sliding his chair back, he rose and shrugged on his tailored jacket, his movements slow.
As he buttoned the cuffs, his gaze lingered on the window, the reflection of his own face staring back.
His n was simple. He nned on weaving himself into her world until she wouldn’t even dream of leaving and until he became the only anchor she had left.
<b>*** </b>
The mansion was silent.
Niveray sprawled across her bed, her gaze fixed on the ceiling.
<b>12:05 </b><b>Thu</b><b>, </b><b>Sep </b><b>4 </b>
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She had thought exhaustion from the day would knock her into sleep the moment her head hit the pillow.
Seconds bled into minutes–minutes bled into seconds; it did not.
She had tried closing her eyes and tried willing herself into slumber, but it wouldn’te. Her mind was too loud, reying every second of the restaurant incident.
The way the waiter had looked at her, like she was a fragile thing unraveling.
She was not crazy. He was the crazy one!
Her skin prickled just remembering it. The sharp handwriting, the words etched in her mind: Do you ever wonder if you’re really alone?
She shivered despite the thick duvet covering her.
“Get a grip, Nivera,” she whispered to herself.
But the words were hollow. She pressed the heel of her hand against her temple, squeezing her eyes shut.
Tomorrow was supposed to be her big day. Her return to the runway. She should be resting, preserving her energy, her glow. Instead, anxiety chewed through her veins.
With a frustrated groan, she sat up, hugging her knees. She told herself she had imagined it, that the stress of tomorrow’s runway, the scandal, Alejandro–everything–had gotten to her head.
But even as she repeated it silently, her heart refused to believe it. She knew she had seen that note. She had touched it.
And then it had vanished.
Her eyes darted to the corners of her room. What if there was someone in the house? What if whoever had followed her in the city hade here too?
No, now she was being crazy. She was safe in Alejandro’s mansion. No harm woulde to her there.
She ran her fingers through her hair restlessly. All she wanted in that moment was to… to hear Alejandro’s voice.
She hated that her mind went there. Hated that in her fear, the first image that surfaced was his face. His steady, unshakeable presence. His voice, low andmanding, capable of cutting through any storm in her chest.
Her lips pressed into a thin line. No. That was dangerous thinking. He was thest man she should depend on.
Still, the ache in her chest wouldn’t leave. She wanted to see him.
A sudden movement tugged at the corner of her vision, and her head turned toward the door.
A shadow had slid past it–she couldn’t have been mistaken.
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Her pulse spiked, and she froze as her breath caught in her throat. For a moment, she told herself she must have imagined it. But the memory of that nk napkin returned, and her stomach churned.
With her heart hammering, she pushed herself off the bed and padded toward the door.
She pressed her palm against the cool brass handle, hesitated, then pulled the door open in one swift motion.
The hallway stretched empty before her.
It was silent, as it was supposed to be, but that wasn’t a good thing at that moment.
“Hello?” She whispered, instantly regretting how small her voice sounded.
Silence answered.
Seeing that there was no one there, she turned to shut the door.
“Nivera…”
She heard someone call out her name; it was barely audible, a low, drawn–out whisper.
Her breath hitched. She stumbled back, clutching the doorframe.
“Who’s there?” she demanded, louder this time, though her voice trembled.
There was no answer.
She immediately felt dizzy, her skin prickling as though someone had brushed ice across her spine.
Logic screamed that it wasn’t real–that she was tired. However, another part of her, the raw instinct buried deep, told her she wasn’t imagining things.
She didn’t, however, wait to find out as she entered her room and mmed the door shut, pressing her back against it, heart racing.
Her mind spun. She thought of calling Celeste, of reaching out to someone–anyone.
But Celeste was buried in preparations for tomorrow. Besides, what would she even say? That she’d heard voices in the hallway? That she’d seen shadows where there were none?
They would think she was crazy. Just like the waiter had. She couldn’t afford people thinking that she was crazy, that would kill her career.
Who would want to work with a crazy woman?
Her hands shook as she rubbed her arms, trying to coax warmth into herself.
And then, without meaning to, her thoughts drifted to him. Alejandro.
She clenched her fists, trying to drive the thought away. No. She couldn’t depend on him. Not anymore.
<b>12:05 </b><b>Thu</b><b>, </b><b>Sep </b><b>4 </b>
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And yet, deep down, her body betrayed her. Because what she wanted more than anything in that moment was for him to appear at her door and tell her she wasn’t losing her mind.
The sharp sound of the doorbell shattered the silence.
Nivera jumped, her heart leaping to her throat; she nearly screamed.
Someone was at the door.
Hope and dread tangled inside her as she opened the door and bolted down the staircase, her feet slipping slightly against the polished steps. Her chest squeezed with anticipation, irrational but undeniable.
‘Please let it be him,‘ she thought, though she refused to admit it outright. ‘Please let it be Alejandro.
She flung the door open, the name tumbling past her lips before she could stop herself. “Alejandro, I-”
The rest of her sentence died in her throat when she came face to face with the person at the door.
It was Alejandro.
But not as she’d ever seen him before.
His shirt was torn open at the cor, smeared with blood. His jacket hung askew, one sleeve half–ripped.
Bruises marred his jaw, his lip was split and swollen, and dark blood trailed down from his temple, streaking across his cheek.
One eye was already turning purple, swollen to a slit. His usually immacte hair was dishevelled, damp with
sweat.
For a second, Nivera forgot how to breathe.
“Alejandro!” she gasped, horror flooding her.
He swayed on his feet, his knuckles raw and bloodied, chest heaving with shallow breaths. For the first time, the man who always exuded untouchable control looked fragile.
Before she could process it further, his knees buckled.
-Alejandro!” Nivera lunged forward, catching his weight against her. He was heavy, his body trembling, as though sheer force of will was all that had carried him this far.
She wrapped an arm around his torso, the scent of blood and sweat filling her lungs. “Alejandro, stay with me! Don’t you dare copse!”
His head tilted, lips parting as though to speak, but only a hoarse sound escaped.
Her panic surged, tears burning at the corners of her eyes.
“God–no–stay with me,” she whispered, panic wing through her chest as she tried to shift his weight. “You’re hurt–what happened?”
<b>12:05 </b>Thu, Sep 4
He didn’t answer. His head lolled against her shoulder, breath ragged and shallow.
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the hurt, the anger, the walls she had tried so desperately to rebuild she tightened
Forgetting everything
her grip on him, pulling him against her chest.
“I’ve got you,” she whispered fiercely. “I’ve got you, Alejandro.”
“Hmm,” he groaned.
“Help!” she screamed, her voice cracking. “Somebody help me!”
“They’ve been dismissed for the night,” Alejandro managed to say.
“Fuck,” Nivera cursed in anger, and she looked at Alejandro. “Come, let’s get you inside.”
“Hmm.” Was all Alejandro said as he clung to Nivera, who was moments away from breaking down in tears <b>as </b>she couldn’t bear the sight of him like this.
However, as she focused her attention on getting him inside, she missed the slight smirk that appeared on Alejandro’s face as he watched the woman who had resolved to get over him.
<i>“</i>There’s no getting over me, Cabezota, not in this life, or the next!‘ He thought to himself.