The Billionaire's Dangerous Obsession (Nivera) novel Chapter 216

The car rolled to a stop at a dimly lit corner, the low hum of the engine the only sound breaking the quiet in

the car.

Nivera blinked out of her daze, staring through the window at the flickering neon sign across the street.

It wasn’t a motel. It was a diner.

A rundown one at that–paint peeling off its sides, a crooked sign that didn’t tell her the name, and a handful of cars parked unevenly outside. The scent of oil, smoke, and burnt coffee floated faintly through the cracked car window.

Frowning, she turned toward Antonio in the back seat. “Why are we here?” she asked, confusion knitting her brow. “I thought you said she was staying at a motel.”

Antonio’s jaw flexed, his gaze fixed on the glowing sign. “She works here,” he said finally.

Nivera’s brows shot up. “She what?”

“She took a job here. Waitressing.”

She turned back to the diner, her disbelief deepening the longer she looked at it. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she murmured, shaking her head. “If Zabelle has really let go of her luxurious life to work in a dump like this, then you-” she pointed at Antonio without even finishing the sentence “-really messed up.”

Antonio’s sigh was low and resigned, but he didn’t argue.

In the driver’s seat, Alejandro’s silence had been steady up until now, but at last, he spoke, his voice calm and edged with authority. “Be careful,” he said, glancing at her through the rearview mirror. “We’ll be out here.”

Nivera’s gaze softened slightly. “Got it,” she said with a nod, unbuckling her seat belt.

As she stepped out into the cool air, her heels clicked against the cracked pavement. The diner’s sign buzzed faintly overhead, and a wave of greasy air washed over her as she approached the entrance. She pulled her coat tighter around herself.

The diner smelled of burnt coffee and old oil. The moment she walked in, a few heads turned–truck drivers, an old couple in the corner, and a bored waitress who looked like she’d rather be anywhere else. The dull hum of conversation filled the space, along with the faint buzz of an old jukebox in the corner.

Then her eyes found Zabelle.

Behind the counter, wearing a faded uniform and a name tag that read “Shantell,” Zabelle was pouring coffee into a chipped mug.

The sight hit Nivera harder than she expected.

The once–elegant Zabelle Garcia–heiress, wife, and one of the most composed women Nivera had ever met -looked like a shadow of herself. The cheap wig did little to disguise her, but it did dim the brilliance that had once made her unforgettable.

Nivera’s heart squeezed.

God, what did Antonio do to her?

Their eyes met across the room, and in that instant, the shock on Zabelle’s face was unmistakable. Her hand froze mid–motion, the pot of coffee tilting dangerously before she caught it just in time.

Nivera didn’t waste any time. She walked straight over to Zabelle, her heels clicking against the floor.

“Nivera, what are you doing here?” Zabelle asked.

“We’re leaving,” she said, ignoring Zabelle’s question, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Talking nicely didn’t look like it would cut it, and seeing just how terrible the situation was, she agreed with Antonio. They needed to get Zabelle out of there.

“I’m working, Nivera,” Zabelle responded.

“Not anymore,” she shot back, her voice cool. “Let’s go.”

“Nivera, I can’t just leave.” She heard Zabelle argue.

“You heard me.” She folded her arms, her stance commanding attention. “I’m not letting you rot in some rundown diner just because you’re too damn stubborn to face reality. So grab your things. We’re leaving, or I’m causing a scene, and I’d like to see how people react to knowing you’re Zabelle Garcia.”

Her eyes flicked pointedly to the name tag on Zabelle’s chest–Shantell. The false name looked ridiculous, just like the wig that was plastered on her head. Was that really the best she could come up with?

Zabelle’s jaw tightened, but Nivera didn’t waver. She had come here with a purpose, and she wasn’t leaving

without her.

“Fine,” Zabelle muttered after a tense pause, crossing over the counter.

Without hesitation, Nivera grabbed her hand and led her out, ignoring the stares that followed them. The door slammed behind them, and the warm, greasy air of the diner was replaced by the crisp chill outside.

As the door swung shut behind them, Nivera didn’t stop until they were clear of the diner windows. Zabelle yanked her arm free, glaring. “You pulling me out like this is going to make me lose my job, you know.”

Nivera scoffed, flipping her hair. “Good. It’s an insult that you were working there in the first place.”

Zabelle shot her a glare of her own, and Nivera met it head–on. She wasn’t going to feel guilty for dragging her friend out of that place.

“I don’t have the luxury to sit at home and do nothing,” Zabelle said tightly. “I left Antonio without taking any money, and so I need the job.”

“I know you left Antonio.” Nivera’s tone softened slightly. “Alejandro told me.”

She purposely left out the fact that it was actually Antonio that had told hher,as it would just make it obvious

that Antonio was the reason why she was there.

Her words made Zabelle look away, and for a moment, Nivera studied her face, seeing the exhaustion there- the kind that came from heartbreak. She sighed quietly.

“So?” she continued, trying to keep her tone level. “You’re trying to start over. I get it. But did it ever occur to you to come to me instead of rotting away in a motel and waiting tables?”

“I didn’t want to disturb you,” Zabelle said. “This is my battle.”

“I’m not disputing that,” Nivera replied, shrugging one shoulder. “But I wouldn’t have minded if you reached out. This is way below you, and you may not consider me your friend, but I do, and I can’t sit back and let you do this.”

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