The Billionaire's Dangerous Obsession (Nivera) novel Chapter 162

Chapter 162

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Nivera’s heart hammered against her ribs as she staggered beneath Alejandro’s weight, half dragging, half guiding him down the hallway and into his room.

The strength in his body–normally impossible to ignore–felt slack, heavy, and frighteningly fragile.

She kicked the door shut with her heel and carefully lowered him onto the edge of the bed. Her hands hovered over his bruised frame, unsure whether to touch him or not, afraid of making it worse.

Her pulse raced. She had never seen him like this–never seen him vulnerable.

“We need to call the doctor. Right now,” she blurted, already reaching for her phone.

But before she could dial, his hand shot out and gripped her wrist, surprisingly firm despite his state.

“No doctor,” he rasped, his voice rough with exhaustion yet threaded with that maddening authority he always carried. “I’ll be fine.”

Her head snapped toward him, eyes blazing. “Fine? Alejandro, you’re bleeding. You can barely sit upright!”

He smirked faintly, though it twisted into a wince. “You worry too much.”

The sheer sight of him made her chest ache. He was bruised and broken, and still he had the nerve to act as if he had tripped over a curb.

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“Stop being so damn nonchalant about your health!” she snapped, her voice rising with panic. “This isn’t a paper cut, this is–this is serious!”

The weight of her words traveled through the room, filling the air with her trembling desperation. She didn’t even care how she sounded.

-And it was exactly what Alejandro wanted. He could feel it–the way her hands shook, the way her

eyes refused to leave him as if she feared he’d disappear if she blinked.

“I don’t need a doctor. He’ll tell Mom and she’ll get worried.” he rasped again, trying for a reassuring smile but wincing when the cut on his lip split further.

Her hands clenched into fists at her sides. “You’re impossible,” she muttered, blinking fast as if to stop tears from forming.

“I-” he began, but a groan cut him short. The sound made her flinch, every fiber of her screaming at her to act, not argue.

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Chapter 162

“Stay here,” she said quickly, her voice breathless but firm. She eased his hand back onto the mattress and stood. “Don’t move. I’ll get the first aid kit.”

Alejandro let his head fall back against the headboard; despite the pain in his ribs, his lips curved faintly.

He watched her rush out, her hair streaming behind her in messy waves. Panic clung to her shoulders, and worry tugged at her every step.

She cared.

That was all he needed.

When she returned with the first–aid kit clutched tightly in her hands, her face was pale, and she was out of breath. “Alright,” she said softly, approaching him. “We need to sit you up. It’ll hurt, but you

have to bear with me.”

“Do what you must.”

Even leaning forward was a trial. As she pulled him gently into a more upright position, a deep groan tore from his chest. Nivera’s eyes squeezed shut at the sound, her throat tightening.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry,” she whispered quickly, her hands brushing his arm in soothing strokes. “Just a little more.”

He forced himself upright, his breath uneven, and for a moment his forehead dropped against her shoulder. He inhaled sharply, whether from pain or from the scent of her, he wasn’t sure.

Nivera’s heart skipped as his action was unexpected.

The intimacy of the gesture–the weight of his head against her–was almost too much. She pressed her lips together and steadied herself.

“This is going to hurt,” she told him.

His eyes opened, catching her in a glance that burned straight through her. He nodded once, forcing himself to ease into her hold. She was close now, her scent wrapping around him, soft and distracting.

She fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, trying to be unaffected, but her fingers trembled too much.

The fabric stuck to his skin in places where blood had dried, and every tug made him hiss. She froze each time, her eyes darting up to his face.

“Keep going,” he murmured.

07:29 Sat, 6 Sept

Chapter 162

She swallowed, resuming until the shirt slipped from his shoulders.

His torso was a map of bruises, angry purples and reds blooming across skin she’d once imagined to be untouchable.

A cut ran along his side, smeared with blood, and fresh swelling marred his jaw.

Her chest squeezed. “God, Alejandro…”

He tilted his head, eyes half–lidded but sharp enough to notice how her voice cracked.

‘Not so indifferent now, are you?‘ he thought to himself.

She dipped a cotton pad into disinfectant and pressed it lightly to his skin.

He hissed, body tensing under her touch.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered again, softer this time. “Just… hold still. It’ll sting, but it’ll keep the wounds from getting worse.”

She didn’t know why she was saying all that, as Alejandro knew. It felt like she was talking to herself instead of Alejandro.

The silence that followed was heavy, filled only by the soft sounds of cotton meeting skin, her steadying breaths, and the occasional groan from him.

Her hand lingered against his skin longer than necessary, as if by staying there, she could absorb some of his pain.

Yet beneath it, something else lingered–an undercurrent of heat, a pull that neither of them spoke of but both undeniably felt.

Their eyes met once, twice–each time harder to look away. His gaze was heavy, unflinching, drinking in her worry, her nearness.

Her fragile composure threatened to break under the weight of it. Her pulse hammered against her

throat.

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