The Billionaire's Dangerous Obsession - Chapter 16: Chapter 16

Nivera rolled over on the massive, overly soft bed for the hundredth time, sheets tangling around her legs like restraints.
The dim glow from the moon outside streamed through the sheer curtains, bathing the room in silver, but it brought her no peace.
Her stomach growled again—angry, persistent, like a beast refusing to be ignored.
She groaned.
“Seriously?” she whispered to no one.
Alejandro hadn’t fed her. Again.
The last time she’d eaten anything remotely filling was the previous morning —unless she counted the bite she took in front of Antonio.
She barely even chewed the food. Mostly because she didn’t trust any of them. Secondly because… well, her pride wouldn’t let her.
She buried her face into the pillow.
Mistake. The expensive silk was too smooth, too soft. Not comforting—just another reminder that this wasn’t her room, not her world, and she was trapped in it.
Her fingers curled into the sheets as another wave of hunger made her stomach clench.
“This is ridiculous,” she muttered, but she still didn’t get up.
She’d rather chew her arm off than go begging Alejandro for food. The man was cruel, vindictive, and emotionally constipated. If she so much as looked desperate, he’d smirk like he’d won some unspoken war.
Which, to be fair, he had. He had her passport, her money, her freedom. All she had was a pitiful face, fading pride, and enough pent-up fury to burn this whole damn mansion down.
Another growl. This time louder.
Nivera groaned and rolled again, burying her head under the pillow this time.
The knock on the door made her freeze, and she lifted her head slowly, squinting into the dark.
Another knock. Firm. Measured. Confident.
There was only one person in the mansion.
She sat up.
Alejandro.
It had to be.
No one would dare disturb her, the devil wouldn't allow it. Antonio had already left. The staff were probably told not to interact with her. And unless this mansion had ghosts, that left only one man.
“What does he want now?” she muttered under her breath, swinging her legs off the bed and padding silently to the door.
Another knock, this one slightly impatient.
“I’m coming!” she snapped, not bothering to hide the irritation in her voice as she unlocked the door.
She cracked it open first, because despite the hunger, she wasn’t stupid. Alejandro was unpredictable. Dangerous. Capable of smiling while stabbing you in the back—and then complaining about how your blood got on his shirt.
But when she opened the door fully, she blinked.
He stood there, dressed down in a dark tee and black joggers, holding a silver tray.
On it sat a steaming plate of grilled chicken, roasted vegetables, a bowl of rice, a bottle of water, and even—was that a slice of chocolate cake?
Fuck she loved chocolate cake!
Her stomach let out a traitorous gurgle at the sight.
Thankfully, it wasn’t too loud this time.
Nivera’s eyes narrowed instantly. “What’s the catch?”
Alejandro’s expression didn’t change. He looked amused, unsurprised, and far too pleased with himself.
“You’re not going to say thank you?”
“No.” Her voice was flat. “Because you don’t do nice things. Ever. So again—what’s the catch?”
“Maybe I’m turning over a new leaf,” he said, stepping forward.
She held her ground, arms crossed.
“Or maybe you realized starving me might come back to bite you if I die under your roof.”
He quirked a brow. “If I wanted you dead, I’d have shot you a long time ago.”
She stiffened slightly as she was reminded once again of her position. “What do you want?”
Alejandro tilted his head toward the door. “Are you planning to keep me standing out here all night?”
She hesitated. Every nerve in her body screamed not to trust him.
But then the scent of the food hit her.
And her stomach clenched in betrayal. Plus, it was his house.
With a low grumble of irritation—directed mostly at herself—she stepped aside.
“Fine. Come in.”
Alejandro walked in without a word, setting the tray on the nearby table with the kind of calm authority that made her want to throw a pillow at his head.
She hovered near the door as he removed the lid from the plate and the aroma filled the room. Her stomach growled again, louder this time, and she winced.
“Are you going to eat or just keep glaring at me?” he asked dryly.
“I haven’t decided yet,” she replied, arms still crossed. “This could be poisoned.”
“If I wanted you dead, I’d do it myself,” he said again, but this time with a hint of something darker—like he meant it as a compliment.
She rolled her eyes but finally moved to the tray, sitting down in the armchair beside it. Her pride still bristled, but survival was winning.
Fork in hand, she took a cautious bite.
Warm. Perfectly seasoned. And her body lit up with gratitude she refused to show.
She kept eating, her eyes darting to him every so often. He hadn’t left. He leaned against the wall, watching her. Silent. Calculating.
“Why are you still here?” she asked between bites.
Alejandro shrugged. “Just making sure you don’t try any funny businesses.”
She scowled. “Don’t tempt me.” But she didn’t stop eating.
He waited a beat before finally pushing off the wall.
“I need you to be in good shape,” he said calmly.
She froze with the fork halfway to her mouth. “Excuse me?”
“For my brother’s wedding.”
The fork clattered onto the plate. She stared at him, her expression caught somewhere between disbelief and outrage.
“You think I’m attending a wedding with you?”
Was he crazy or something? They weren't friends or anything to attend a social event together.
He didn’t flinch. “You will.”
She stood now, crossing her arms again. “Why would I go anywhere with the man who kidnapped me, stole my passport, and locked me in his mansion?”
Alejandro’s lips twitched slightly, like he was holding back a smirk. “Because I say so.”
“You’re unbelievable and insufferable.”
“I’ve been called worse.”
“And if I say no?”
“I’ll still make sure you look perfect for the occasion.”
She scoffed. Didn't he hear her? She wasn't going. “You’re insane.”
“You stabbed me,” he reminded her, stepping a little closer. “You think that gives you the moral high ground?”
“I stabbed you because I thought you were going to kill me.”
“I wasn’t.”
“How was I supposed to know that? You were covered in blood and you pointed your gun at me!”
He said nothing.
She looked away, hating how her voice cracked at the end.
A long pause stretched between them.
Eventually, he broke it.
“You’ll come as my date,” he said simply. “Smile. Look pretty. Act like you like me.”
“And after that?”
“We part ways.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You don’t mean that.”
“I do.”
“Right. Just like you meant to give me back my passport?”
He didn’t respond to that. Which only made her angrier.
“I’m not your toy, Alejandro.”
“No,” he said, voice softer. “You’re not.”
But the way he looked at her after he said it made her chest feel tight. Like she was missing something dangerous.
She turned away again, trying to focus on the food—something safe. Familiar.
Alejandro moved toward the door.
“The wedding is in two days,” he said, voice cool once more. “Rest. Eat. Look your best.”
And then he was gone.
The door shut with a soft click.
Nivera sat in silence, staring at the food tray that now felt like a trap.
Because she knew one thing for sure: nothing with Alejandro was ever simple.
And if he was dragging her to this wedding, there was more to it than appearances.
She just had to figure out what.
Before it swallowed her whole.