bChapter /bb94 /b

Her gaze drifted across the room to the window, where he moonlight spilled in soft silver streaks on the polished foon.

Somewhere beyond those ss panes, the world kept buzzing.

Alejandro’s words from earlier reyed in her head like a broken recording

“You don’t let things go when ites to you.”

“You’re nw woman.

“Anytime, Cabezota.”

Her stomach Tattered just remembering the way he’d said it. Warm, certains. Like it bwas /ba fact. Like it was a truth so embedded in him, he didn’t need to exin it

He didn’t even hesitate, it came naturally to him.

But that was Alejandro–smooth, confident, unreadable.

He said those things with a straight face, with that maddening glint in his eyes, like it didn’t mean anything and yet meant everything

at kept her up-

And that’s what I

Because if it did mean something–what did it mean?

And if it didn’t why did it still feel like it did?

Nivera turned over again, burying her face in the pillow bwith /ba frustrated groan. She bwas /bgoing bin /bcircles, and Alejandro Garcia was a contradiction.

What were they?

Whats

were they really?

He wasn’t her boyfriend. He’d never bimed /bher in that way, not in private.

He joked, teased, and touched her in ways that left her skin tingling, but every time she thought she could lean into bit/b, he pulled backb, /breminding her that

he didn’t do love.

Yet he kissed her like she was oxygen he needed to survive and bwhispered /bsweet things into her ear

The next, he was her protector, stepping between her and every threat without a second thought

One moment he was cold and calcted, throwing her sharp words and smug smirks. The next, he was helping her with her zipper, smoothing her dress, band /bbrushing strands of hair behind her ear like he gave ba /bdamn.

Like she mattered–but Alejandro didn’t do love. He said it himself. He didn’t believe in it.

And yet… he acted like he did. He said things and did things that were the opposite of what he bsaid/b.

He watched her like he couldn’t help himself, like she was some kind of puzzle he needed to figure out but didn’t want anyone else touching while he bdid/b.

It would’ve been easier to hate him if he were just cruel, like he was at the beginning. It would be easier to walk away if he was just ying games. But he bwasn’t/b. Not really.

That’s what made him dangerous.

Not the power, not the name, not the security guards and locked doors

No -Alejandro was dangerous because he didn’t make promises, but he made her feel like ha had.

He didn’t say the words, but he made her heart act like he did

And right now, hers was acting up way too much

Nivea sat up in bed, hugging her knees to her chest. The silk nightdress she wore pooled around her thighs, cool against her skin, but her t flushed with heat

She hated this

She hated not knowing where she stood. Not knowing if she was just a passing thing? Amenient distraction or a challenge he wanted to take on

Was she just another girl in the mansion? Another pretty thing in his collection of victories?

Or was she something else?

Was this how he had treated the others? But that was the thing there were no others!

He never told her what he wanted from her not clearly. Not in a way that bmade /bsense. But his actions spoke loud. Too loud. And maybe, that was the problem

Because her body heard him before her brain could make sense of anything. The traitor

She remembered the look on his face when he told those women off. The cold steel in his voice. The way he didn’t flinch when they cried. He was terrifying. And yet, when he turned to her, he’d softened again. A small touch to her back. A quiet, “Are you okay?”

Two differentmen in one body.

And somehow, both of them made her heart race.

Her fingers clutched at the sheets beside her, Her chest ached with confusion, ba /bslow, pulling weight right beneath her ribs, as she thought back to the times he had kissed and done unspeakable things to her,

And it had wrecked her, Not because it was bsoft /bor sweet–God no–it had been rough, unyielding, and hot enough to steal the breath from her fur

But why didn’t he finish what he had started? She pursed her lips

bWas /bthat restraint or control, or was it bdisinterest/bb? /b

She didn’t know which banswer /bscared her more.

A soft knock came from the door, startling her.

She turned bquickly/b. “Yes?” However, there was no answer.

She climbed out of bed and padded barefoot to the door, cracking it open cautiously.

The hallway was empty. No sound or shadow–Nothing.

Only a small tray on the floor.

On it–hot tea, a folded napkin, band /ba handwritten note in that sharp, familiar scrawl:

“Drink this. It’s ba /bcold night, and you’re thinking too bloud/b.”

Nivera stared at the note, and her chest did that annoying twist bagain/b.

It was like he knew bber/b–knew how her mind worked, how it wouldn’t shut off. And instead of pushing he’d sent her tea and a note

The gesture warmed her heart.

She picked up the tray and brought it back into her room, closing the door schly behind her,

Back in bed, she held the cup in both hands, staring down at the team as it curled up into the air

“adiot,” she whispered to bersell.

She didn’t know what i was What they were.

bBut /bshe knew bhe /bwas inside her head, and worse inside her heart.

And that made her feel more lost than eyCE..

Because Nivera Elton wasn’t supposed to fall for a man like Mejandro Garcia.

But maybe she was already falling, and if th

that was true..

She didn’t know how she was supposed to survive it.

Whatever the answer was, she knew one thing:

If she wasn’t careful, he was going to break her.

And what terrified her more than that…

was the fact that she might just let him.

E