The Billionaire's Dangerous Obsession (Nivera) novel Chapter 190

The mansion was quiet when Nivera returned, so quiet it almost felt empty.

The echo of her boots clicked against the marble floor followed her as she stepped inside, her eyes flicking toward the living room and down the hallways. There was no sign of him.

Turning, she went back out to one of the guards stationed outside, her voice hesitant.

“Is Alejandro back yet?”

The man shook his head. “No, ma’am. He hasn’t returned.”

Her heart sank a little. She had expected him to be here, waiting, maybe even pacing the floor the way he sometimes did when something bothered him.

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She made her way to the wide staircase, then sank onto the bottom step, resting her chin in her hand. Her thoughts drifted to the hours she’d just spent with her brother–hours filled with laughter, tears, and the slow mending of a rift she once feared was permanent.

But beneath that fragile relief lurked an unease. Where was Alejandro? Why wasn’t he back?

She pulled out her phone and scrolled through her contacts until she reached his number. Her thumb hovered, then she pressed call.

It rang once, twice–then his voice came through, rougher than usual, as though fatigue clung to every syllable.

“Cabezota?”

Relief washed over her instantly as he had answered. “Where are you?”

“On my way home,” he said, the low rumble of his engine audible in the background. “Almost there. What are you doing calling me at this hour?”

“Waiting for you.”

There was a pause, followed by the faintest sigh. “Stubborn woman.” His voice softened, though, betraying his affection. “I’ll be there in a few minutes. Stay where you are.”

She hung up and curled into herself on the step, heart strangely light now that she’d heard his voice. True to his word, minutes later the sound of tires crunching over gravel filled her ears, and she looked up to see him driving in. The front door opened, and Alejandro stepped out.

Nivera shot to her feet, her chest swelling with something she couldn’t name–relief, joy, and worry all tangled together.

He looked… wrecked. His dark shirt was wrinkled, his tie loosened, and his hair mussed as though he’d dragged his hands through it too many times. Shadows lingered beneath his eyes, his jaw locked tight with strain. He was the picture of a man at war with the world.

Alejandro’s arm was still around Nivera, his thumb stroking the back of her hand, grounding himself as much

as her.

Alejandro’s phone buzzed, breaking the tense silence that had settled between him and Nivera inside the car.

He ignored it at first, unwilling to let go of her warmth, but the third vibration was sharper, urgent. He pulled it from his pocket with a frown, thumb sliding across the screen.

His dark eyes scanned the text, and almost instantly his expression shifted. His jaw tightened, and his brows furrowed.

Nivera felt the change instantly–the subtle tension in his body, the way his thumb paused over her hand. She lifted her head just enough to catch the frown darkening his features. “What happened?” she asked softly, worry bleeding into her tone.

Alejandro hesitated, eyes still locked on the glowing screen, before finally lowering the phone and turning to her. “One of my men just sent me the report,” he said finally, his voice measured.

“Report?” she echoed, blinking at him in confusion.

“The investigation,” Alejandro clarified, his dark eyes meeting hers. “The one you asked me to conduct… about your brother.”

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