Chapter 196
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The hospital room was quiet, the sterile scent of disinfectant heavy in the air, the faint beeping of the monitor the only rhythm marking the passing minutes.
The night pressed in against the windows, heavy and silent. The city outside buzzed with its own chaos, but within the confines of the private hospital suite, there was a fragile sense of peace.
Alejandro sat at the edge of Nivera’s bed, holding a small porcelain bowl in one hand and a spoon in the other. He had discarded his jacket, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbows, his tie long gone.
She was propped against pillows, her face pale from the ordeal earlier, but her eyes were alive with stubborn fire, just as he wanted to see.
The sight of him–a man used to commanding rooms full of men and enemies, reduced to carefully feeding spoonfuls of broth to a stubborn woman–was something that would have made anyone laugh.
Except neither of them was laughing.
He lifted a spoonful of soup and held it toward her lips, his other hand steadying the bowl. “Open your mouth, Cabezota,” he said softly, though his eyes carried the kind of quiet authority that left no room for
argument.
Nivera groaned but obeyed, leaning against her pillows. “I’m not a child, Alejandro.”
She was amused at how serious he was about feeding her, like she couldn’t manage on her own. But truth be told, she enjoyed the way his brow furrowed in concentration, as though ensuring she swallowed each spoonful properly was more important than the empire he ran.
“You’re worse,” he muttered, gently pressing the spoon against her lips until she accepted it. “At least children listen.”
She tried to glare at him, but the warmth of the soup against her sore throat softened her expression. “You’re insufferable.”
“And yet here I am,” he said dryly, dipping the spoon back into the bowl. “Feeding you.”
“I can do it myself, you know,” she teased.
“I know,” he said smoothly, bringing another spoon to her lips. “But I like doing it for you.”
She rolled her eyes, but her lips curved into the faintest smile. For a fleeting moment, there was nothing but them, the intimacy of the act, the quiet between words, and the steady rhythm of Alejandro’s presence when the illusion suddenly shattered.
The door slammed open with a force that rattled against the walls. Alejandro shot to his feet, the bowl clattering against the nightstand, his hand instinctively reaching for the weapon holstered at his side.
Two figures stormed in. Liam, broad–shouldered and furious, his fists clenched, his eyes burning like fire. And behind him, Aria, her mother–regal even in her panic, her presence commanding but her face drawn with
worry.
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Chapter 1961
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Nivera’s eyes widened. “Liam? Mother?” Her voice trembled with shock, and before she could fully process their sudden appearance….
“Nivera!” Aria rushed past Alejandro without sparing him a glance, heading straight for the bed. She cupped her daughter’s face in trembling hands, her voice breaking. “My baby, are you alright? I heard–God, I heard
“Mom, I’m fine,” Nivera said quickly, trying to soothe her. “It was just a graze, nothing serious. I promise”
But her words did nothing to case Aria’s tears, nor the storm brewing in Liam’s eyes.
Liam turned sharply on his heel. His glare landed squarely on Alejandro, and the room thickened with
tension.
He knew that look in Liam’s eyes–accusation, judgment, fury. He was already bracing himself.
“You,” he spat, his voice dripping venom. “You were supposed to protect her. And yet she’s lying here with a bullet wound. “You call this fine?” Liam’s voice was raw and harsh.
“This is what happens when she’s with you, Alejandro. You swore to protect her, and yet here she is–shot!”
Alejandro’s jaw tightened. “It grazed her,” he said flatly, though his tone carried a dangerous edge. “She’s alive. I made sure of it.”
“You made sure?” Liam barked out a humorless laugh, his hands balling into fists. “No, Alejandro. You failed. You think I don’t know how dangerous it is around you? You attract bullets like moths to a flame, and now you’ve dragged her into your fire!”
Alejandro’s jaw continued to tighten, but he didn’t back down. His voice was low, deadly calm–the kind of calm that hid storms. “Don’t fucking piss me off, Liam.”
“Piss you off?” Liam barked a laugh, though it was humorless. “You don’t get to stand there all high and mighty when my sister almost died because of you. I should put a bullet in you myself.”
Nivera gasped. “Liam!”
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