The Billionaire's Dangerous Obsession - Chapter 15: Chapter 15

“I don’t plan to,” Antonio said, his voice calm but firm, eyes unblinking as he looked straight at Alejandro.
Alejandro narrowed his gaze, jaw tight. He didn’t like Antonio’s cryptic responses, but for now, he let it go.
Still, Antonio wasn’t finished. “But you haven’t told me who she is,” he pressed, voice mild, though there was a glint in his eye.
“Get out of my house!” Alejandro hissed, his patience finally snapping.
Everyone always thought he was the troublemaker. The volatile, nonchalant sibling who needed to be watched.
The one who couldn’t be trusted not to break something or burn a bridge.
He carried that title proudly—even used it to keep people at arm’s length.
But what nobody seemed to realize was that Antonio was just as much of a menace.
Maybe even worse.
The only difference? Antonio never showed that side to anyone else. Only him.
To the world, Antonio was the level-headed one, the composed heir with the infamous devilish reputation.
But Alejandro knew better. Antonio was just as stubborn, just as annoying, and just as much of a pain in the ass—he just knew how to hide it behind charm and diplomacy.
And now here he was, being a complete menace in his house, refusing to take the hint and leave.
Another silent showdown ensued, a familiar one. No words. Just tension hanging heavy between them like smoke.
Alejandro was the first to blink.
“She’s Nivera Elton,” he said curtly. “That’s all you’re getting.”
If he didn't tell Antonio what he needed to hear, then there was a high chance he wouldn't leave.
Antonio’s brows lifted with interest. “Elton?” he echoed, his voice almost teasing.
“And…” he said after a beat, a grin tugging at his lips. “You brought her here?”
Alejandro scowled but said nothing as he waited for Antonio to finish.
“This is the first time you’ve ever brought a woman to your house,” Antonio continued, smug now. “She’s not ordinary. You hate people in your space.”
Alejandro stayed silent, but Antonio’s words landed hard. He hadn’t realized it until Antonio said it out loud—but it was true.
He’d brought her home.
His house was sacred. Off-limits. A fortress from the world. No women. No guests. No one except his mother and aunt had ever crossed that line, and even that was rare.
He hated people. Hated their energy, their noise, their presence lingering in his space like an oil stain on white silk. Everything in his house was precisely the way he liked it—minimal, quiet, controlled.
So why had he brought her?
The question sat like a stone in his chest.
“You know I hate people in my house, and you’re still here,” he muttered, glaring at Antonio.
“I love pissing you off,” Antonio said with a shrug. “Especially since you love being in mine.”
Alejandro muttered something under his breath—probably a curse—and turned toward the door. There was no getting rid of Antonio. Not when he was in one of those moods.
He barely made it three steps before Antonio’s voice rang out again.
“Why did she stab you in the neck?”
Alejandro stopped. Slowly, he turned around. His eyes narrowed.
“How do you know she stabbed me in the neck?”
Antonio didn’t answer that. He didn’t have to. He simply tilted his head and asked again, “Why did she do it?”
Alejandro stared at him, silent.
“Is she a threat?” Antonio asked next, and his tone was no longer playful. “Does she need to be eliminated?”
“No,” Alejandro said, his voice flat, definitive. “I’ll handle her.”
Antonio studied him for a long moment, then nodded. It was enough—for now.
A buzz sounded from his phone. He pulled it out, glanced at the screen, and frowned. Alejandro squinted at the sudden change in his expression.
“Zabelle?” he guessed. She was the woman who Antonio was getting married to.
Antonio sighed and nodded as he began typing out a reply.
Alejandro smirked, a bit of amusement creeping in. “So, you’re really getting married in two days.”
“It’s surreal,” Antonio muttered with another sigh.
Alejandro shook his head in disbelief. “Didn’t think you’d be the first between us to go down like that.”
“I didn’t either,” Antonio said with a dry laugh, then tucked his phone away. “But here we are.”
There was a pause. Alejandro turned away, ready to leave, but Antonio’s voice caught him again.
“You know what this means, right?”
Alejandro gave him a wary glance.
“It means,” Antonio said, slowly grinning, “you’re next.”
Alejandro’s face twisted into a scowl. “Don’t joke like that.”
“I’m not joking. You know how our mothers are. Mine already hinted that they’re planning to ‘encourage’ you at the wedding. What better place to introduce you to your future wife, right?”
Alejandro went still. His stomach dropped.
Shit!
He could see it already—the aunties plotting, the hopeful glances, the introductions. His mother’s fake innocent smiles. The strategically placed eligible women. The manipulative small talk.
And worst of all… the expectations.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered.
Antonio’s laughter was instant, unrestrained. “Good luck,” he said gleefully. “My condolences, truly.”
And with that, he finally stood up and made his way toward the exit.
Alejandro stood frozen in place, brain racing. There was no way he could skip Antonio’s wedding.
That would be suspicious. Disrespectful.
He had to go.
But he couldn’t walk in alone. Not now. Not after Antonio’s warning.
He needed a shield. A buffer. Something—or someone—to get their matchmaking claws off his back.
A date.
Yes, that was it! He needed a date to the wedding.
One convincing enough to scare off their mothers. Someone they’d never dare try to replace with a handpicked bride. Someone who would throw their plans into chaos.
But also someone who wouldn’t take it the wrong way and start thinking it was something serious.
That was the real problem.
Every woman he’d been with wanted something from him—status, attention, money, or a title. None of them knew how to stay in their lane.
Who could he possibly take that wouldn’t give him a headache afterward?
And then… like a spark in the dark, the answer came.
His lips curled into a slow, wicked smile.
Nivera Elton.
Beautiful. Infuriating. Impossible to control.
She wasn’t the kind of woman who would mistake his invitation for romance. She hated him too much for that. And she was too proud to ever settle for a man like him—not without a war.
It was perfect.
She’d play the role effortlessly. Maybe a little too well. But there was no risk of her clinging to him afterward. She wanted nothing to do with him.
And besides, there was something poetic about it. Bringing her—the same woman who stabbed him in the neck—to his brother’s wedding to pretend she was his date.
He could already imagine their mothers’ reactions.
The scandal. The whispered gossip. The collective sigh of disappointment.
He lived for that kind of chaos.
And maybe… just maybe… it would give him a chance to keep Nivera close. Under watch.
Where she couldn’t run.
Where he could figure her out.
Because even though he told Antonio she wasn’t a threat, part of him knew that wasn't true. She had secrets. And he wasn’t done uncovering them yet.
One way or another, she was going to the wedding with him.
She just didn’t know it yet.