The Billionaire's Dangerous Obsession (Nivera) novel Chapter 215

Chapter 215

The penthouse was quiet–too quiet for Nivera’s liking.

When she first stirred awake, the digital clock on the nightstand read a little past eleven. She had overslept.

For a moment, she lay still, trying to gather her thoughts. Alejandro wasn’t beside her, and the faint warmth on his side of the bed had long faded, indicating that he had gotten out of bed for some time.

With a sigh, she pushed back the duvet and slipped her feet into the slippers by the bed.

The bathroom light flicked on, and she squinted at her reflection in the mirror–hair tousled, eyes heavy with sleep.

The faint bruise from where the bullet had grazed her had almost vanished, leaving just the ghost of a scar.

A reminder.

She sighed and splashed another handful of water onto her face before stepping back into the bedroom, tying her robe tighter around her waist. But as soon as she stepped out, she froze.

The stillness was comforting–until she heard voices.

Faint at first, they grew clearer with every passing second, echoing faintly from the direction of the living room. Male voices–low and controlled.

Her heart skipped a beat. The hour was far too early for visitors, and Alejandro never let anyone inside without her knowing.

Instinctively, she reached for her phone on the nightstand, ready to call for Martin—until a familiar, deep voice reached her.

Alejandro’s-

Nivera didn’t bother with subtlety. She immediately walked out of the room towards the living room.

Her steps were quiet but firm as she followed the murmur of voices down the hallway.

When she rounded the corner, her eyes widened in disbelief.

The other voice belonged to Antonio.

“…that’s not the point, Antonio. You should’ve told me sooner.”

“I didn’t think she’d actually go through with it. I thought she’d just–hell, I don’t know–cool off and come home.”

“She left you. That doesn’t just… cool off,” Alejandro said flatly.

Antonio was standing beside the sofa, dressed in dark slacks and a crisp shirt, as though he had just stepped

out of a boardroom instead of a holding cell.

His expression was unreadable–calm, composed–but there was something about his eyes that betrayed

exhaustion.

Alejandro stood opposite him, one hand tucked into his pocket, the other holding a half–empty glass of whiskey.

It was terrifying how the two were cousins but could easily pass off as twins. If one didn’t know them personally, they would be mistaken for the other. The Garcia gene was fucking strong.

At the sound of her soft footsteps, both turned toward her.

For a moment, Nivera could only stare. The last time she’d seen Antonio had been the day of his arrest–the tension, the anger, the uncertainty surrounding the entire situation.

And now, here he was, standing in the penthouse as though no time had passed.

For a moment, no one spoke.

Then Antonio’s lips curved faintly. “You look surprised to see me, Nivera.”

“I am surprised,” she admitted, blinking as if trying to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. “The last time I saw you, you were… well, not here.”

Alejandro moved before Antonio could respond, his long strides carrying him to her in seconds.

His eyes softened when they met hers, that familiar mix of concern and relief in them. “You’re awake,” he murmured, voice low as he brushed a loose strand of hair away from her face. “Antonio’s here to see you.”

Her brows furrowed even more. “To see me?”

Alejandro nodded once, stepping aside to give Antonio room.

Antonio, on his part, didn’t waste time. “I need your help,” he said simply.

Nivera blinked. “With what?”

He took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair before giving a humorless laugh. “Dragging my wife out of the dumpster of a motel she’s holed in.”

up

The words hit her like a bucket of cold water, as it wasn’t what she was expecting to come out of Antonio’s mouth.

Well, she didn’t know what she was expecting, but it was definitely not that.

“What?” she blurted, unable to hide the shock in her voice. “What do you mean Zabelle’s in a motel?”

Her gaze snapped to Alejandro, silently demanding an explanation.

Alejandro sighed and set his drink aside. “She left Antonio,” he said quietly. “She’s been gone for days. He

found out earlier tonight that she’s been staying in a small motel outside the city.”

Nivera’s mind reeled. The last time she’d seen Zabelle and Antonio together, they had seemed fine–tense, maybe, but fine.

Certainly not like the kind of couple who’d just break apart overnight, not especially with the way Zabelle was worried about Antonio after his arrest.

“Wait, that doesn’t make sense,” she said, shaking her head. “What happened? Did you two fight?”

Antonio

gave her a look that was half irritation, half helplessness. “You make it sound like I’m the only one who could have done something wrong.”

She folded her arms across her chest. “Are you saying you didn’t?”

Alejandro’s lips twitched slightly at that, though his eyes remained serious.

Antonio exhaled heavily, leaning back against the arm of the couch. “Let’s just say we argued,” he finally admitted.

“About things that have been simmering for a while. I thought she just needed space, but…” His jaw tightened. “Turns out she decided space meant running away.”

Nivera studied him for a moment. Antonio’s tone was calm, but beneath the surface, she could feel the frustration and guilt clawing at him.

She’d known Antonio long enough to recognize when he was deflecting–and right now, he was deflecting

hard.

“I’m guessing you said or did something stupid,” she said flatly.

Antonio’s head jerked up. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” Nivera crossed the room, coming to stand opposite him. “You have that same tone Alejandro gets when he’s trying to justify being an idiot.”

Alejandro coughed, unsuccessfully suppressing a smirk. “Cabezota…”

She shot him a glare, then turned back to Antonio. “You probably hurt her, and now you want me to help you fix it.”

Antonio looked between her and his brother, his lips curving slightly. “I see she’s picked up your charming way of talking, Alejandro.”

“I warned you,” Alejandro said, his voice low, amused despite himself.

“You stay out of this.”

“Oh, I’m very much in it,” Alejandro replied, leaning casually against the counter. “Especially since you decided to bring your mess into my home.”

Antonio rolled his eyes and turned back to Nivera. “Look, I didn’t do anything. Not this time, at least.”

“Don’t change the subject,” Nivera interjected, exasperated. “What exactly do you want me to do?”

He hesitated for a moment, his expression softening slightly. “We had a fight. A stupid one, really. I thought it would blow over, but it didn’t. She said she needed space.”

Nivera’s expression softened. “Antonio…”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t mean for things to go this far. She’s stubborn, but she’s also… she’s my wife. And I can’t just let her rot away in some dump because of my pride.”

Silence stretched for a moment before he looked at her again, earnest now. “That’s why I need your help. She won’t listen to me. Not after everything that’s happened. But she might listen to you.”

“Me?”

“Yeah. You’re friends. You might have a way of getting through to her.”

Nivera hesitated, torn between confusion and sympathy. “Antonio, I don’t even know what to say to her.

“If I go there, she’ll just slam the door in my face. But if you go, maybe she’ll hear me out. Maybe she’ll come home.”

There was a pause as the weight of his words hung in the air.

Nivera turned slowly to Alejandro, her eyes searching his face. “Is this really a good idea? I mean… she’s obviously upset. What if she doesn’t want to see anyone at all?”

Alejandro met her gaze, his expression unreadable. “If it were you,” he said softly, “and you’d left me, I wouldn’t rest until I brought you back.”

Nivera’s heart stuttered at the intensity in his tone.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, do that after I’m gone!” Antonio hissed under his breath as he rolled his eyes.

“Fine, I’ll go,” Nivera said finally.

Antonio nodded, relief flashing briefly across his features. “Thank you.”

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