The Billionaire's Dangerous Obsession - Chapter 41: Chapter 41

Nivera watched Alejandro with clenched fists as he accepted her rejection of his “freedom” with a smile on his face.
He said nothing—just studied her face for a moment longer, like he was searching for something.
Then his phone buzzed.
He glanced at the screen and sighed, annoyance flickering through his expression and it made Nivera wonder what the matter was, not like she cared anyway.
“Duty calls,” he muttered, slipping the phone into his pocket, and he handed her passport and cash back to her.
As he moved toward the door, he glanced back over his shoulder and saw that she hadn't moved from her spot.
With his voice laced with sarcasm, he said, “Don’t let me stop you if you still want to snoop around. Just be sure to lock up my safe when you're done.”
And then he was gone.
The silence left behind was thick. The fact that he had left her with the items she needed to make her getaway also said a lot.
Nivera stood there, staring at the door long after he disappeared.
She exhaled, slow and measured, then looked down at the ring still lying in its box. “Mía,” she whispered again.
That sounded like ‘mine’. Her lips curled bitterly. She wasn’t his anything. Not yet. Not ever.
But she needed a plan. A new one to get out of the hell she was living in.
She returned the ring, the passport, the cash—everything—back into the safe and shut it with a soft click.
Alejandro had given her an opening, but it had been bait laced with thorns. If she ran now, he'd chase her. And something told her he wanted her to try.
Plan B had to be subtle. Long-term. She would have to act like she’d given up. Smile. Play nice. Wait.
Wait until he let his guard down.
Then she’d run, and this time—he wouldn’t catch her.
Taking one last look at the room, she opened the door and left.
Alejandro’s SUV pulled into the abandoned warehouse lot, headlights cutting through the darkness.
Inside, Nathaniel Blackwell was already surrounded—three of Alejandro’s men had dragged him from his penthouse an hour ago and brought him here, bruised and bloodied, stripped of all pretense.
Alejandro stepped out, slow and steady. His black gloves were already on, and he cracked his knuckles.
Nathaniel looked up from where he knelt, blood trickling down his nose.
“You think this’ll change anything?” Nathaniel spat. “You’re just another thug—”
Alejandro’s fist crashed into his jaw before he could finish. The impact cracked through the room, silencing everyone.
What was up with everyone calling him a thug today?
“Let’s get something clear,” Alejandro said, eyes like ice. “I’m not just a thug. I’m the man who owns the city; you think you can rot in it.”
And with that, Alejandro sent another blow, which sent Nathaniel sideways.
He grabbed him by the collar, lifted him up, and punched again—calculated, controlled. Not rage. Precision.
“For what you did to her,” Alejandro muttered. “For thinking about her the way you did.”
Nathaniel coughed, blood spilling. “She’s just a —”
Alejandro hit him again.
And again.
And again.
Then, finally, he stopped. Breathing hard, fist twitching, Alejandro stood with his gun raised. He pressed the muzzle against Nathaniel’s forehead, who was shaking profusely.
His finger hovered on the trigger.
But something in him shifted. The weight of the gun. The scent of blood. The memory of Nivera’s voice, trembling, and this made him lower the gun.
“You know what, rough him up some more,” he ordered coldly, as he wasn't done with him yet.”
Alejandro watched as his men finished roughing up Nathaniel, his own breathing calm but filled with unspoken menace.
Nathaniel groaned, head hanging low, blood dripping onto the warehouse floor. “P-please,” he pleaded.
“Already, that's enough,” Alejandro instructed his men, and they stopped.
He then crouched down in front of him, face calm and cold.
“I want you to fix what you broke. Clear Nivera's name.
“W-what?” Nathaniel asked weakly. “I can’t…”
Alejandro grabbed his jaw, forcing him to look up. “Wrong answer.”
He then held up his phone and swiped through something, then turned the screen toward Nathaniel.
On it was a photograph of a young girl.
“I did my research,” Alejandro said, his voice deceptively light. “She just turned eighteen, right? Full scholarship. Smart. Keeps her head down. Unlike you, your daughter seems decent.”
Nathaniel’s bloodshot eyes widened. “Don’t—don’t touch her—”
Alejandro smiled darkly. “I don’t need to. Not unless you force my hand. You’re going to publicly admit the truth. That you lied about Nivera. That you harassed her. That every agency that smeared her name did so based on your fabricated statement.”
Nathaniel trembled. “You’re bluffing. You wouldn't harm her”
“Am I?” Alejandro’s voice lowered to a lethal whisper. “She’s already been followed for two days. We have footage. You really want her name dragged through the same hell you put Nivera through? Or maybe you’d prefer to see her reputation ruined before she ever even starts her life?”
Nathaniel stared at him, panicked, as he was cornered.
Alejandro stood, slipping his phone back into his coat pocket. “You’re going to fix this. Not because I’m sparing your life—but because the people you love won’t be spared the fallout if you don’t.”
Nathaniel’s face contorted, his pride warring with fear. Then slowly… he nodded.
“Fine,” he croaked. “I’ll do it.”
Alejandro’s men stepped forward.
“Get him in the car,” Alejandro ordered, his tone final. “He’s got work to do.”
His men obeyed, dragging Nathaniel to the SUV like discarded trash.
As they worked, Martin approached, phone in hand.
“It's about Nivera,” he told Alejandro, who immediately gave him his attention.
“We’ve filed defamation lawsuits against two agencies. One’s already folded. The others are backpedalling. Stories are being retracted about her.”
Alejandro smiled as he began to take off his gloves. “Good.”
It was long overdue. Since they liked running their mouths, they definitely had the funds to pay for it.
“She’ll find out. Eventually,” Martin stated.
“I know,” he responded, and Nivera better thank him as he was wasting time and resources.
“Once Nathaniel issues the statement or whatever, kill him and make it look like it was a suicide.”
“Alright!”
He then checked the time and saw that it was almost six.
“Time to get back to my darling Cabezota,” he muttered as his eyes shone with excitement.
She hadn’t gone back to his room after he left. It felt too charged, too intimate, too risky.
Instead, Nivera curled up in the living rooms with her phone as she checked the internet.
Her name was trending.
Photos from the wedding were everywhere—her green dress, her sharp cheekbones, the way Alejandro stood beside her like she belonged there.
“Who is Alejandro García’s mystery woman?” one headline read.
Another: “Finally off the market?”
She scrolled, stomach twisting. Some praised her—stunning, elegant, bold. Others called her worse—gold-digger, social climber, opportunist.
Surprisingly, their insults didn't hurt as much as she thought it would.
Rather, she found the whole situation amusing as their insults were just due to jealousy.
A sound snapped her out of her thoughts and when she paid attention, she heard the door open, which made her chest tighten.
He’s back, she muttered to herself.
But the sound that followed wasn’t his footsteps. There were the echoes of heels.
She immediately made her sit up as she wondered which it was. On cue, an older woman stepped in, and she had bags in her hands.
Nivera blinked while the woman gasped.
“Oh, dear!” The bags slipped from her hands and groceries tumbled out. “ Nivera, you startled me!” Marceline said.
Nivera quickly rushed forward. “I’m so sorry—I didn’t mean—here, let me help.”
They then knelt together, collecting the scattered groceries.
The woman—elegant, graceful despite her surprise—regarded Nivera with a mixture of awe and confusion.
“Are you staying here?” Alejandro's mother asked,, and Nivera nodded.
Well, against her will, she added in her head.
The woman’s brows lifted in clear shock. “Alejandro let you stay?”
“Is… it that bad?” Nivera asked, cautiously. Antonio has insinuated that she was the first person other than family he had brought to the mansion.
“No,” Marceline replied softly, shaking her head as she subtly wiped her eyes. “No, it’s just… rare, very rare.”
That unsettled Nivera.
They finished putting the groceries away, side by side, and when they were done, the woman turned to her and said quietly, “Thank you. For being in his life.”
Nivera froze as the woman’s words were out of the blue.
“I—what?”
The woman smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “He’s closed himself off for so long. I thought he’d never let anyone in again.”
Guilt punched Nivera in the gut. This woman genuinely believed Alejandro had found love. That she was that person.
Nivera nodded slowly. “He’s never… mentioned that.”
“Not surprised,” Marceline murmured. “But I’ve seen the news. The things they said about you and I know it's because of Alejandro your name is being shamed…”
“Ignore them,” Nivera said quickly, stiffening.
“I’m glad you didn’t.” Marceline patted her hand. “You were right to sue.”
“Sue?” Nivera blinked. “I didn’t—”
Marceline tilted her head. “The lawsuit. Defamation. You didn’t file it?”
Realization dawned.
Alejandro.
She nodded slowly. “I… guess it was filed on my behalf.”
But why would he? Especially when he said he didn't care.
Marceline studied her with a knowing look but didn’t press. Instead, she sat down and patted the seat beside her.
Nivera joined her.
“Tell me about your family?” Marceline asked gently, and Nivera stiffened, something the former immediately caught.
“I’m sorry. That was rude.”
“No,” Nivera murmured. “It’s fine. They’re just… complicated.”
“Then let’s not talk about them.”
How did such a nice woman give birth to such a demon like Alejandro?
Marceline paused, then asked, almost hesitantly, “Is Alejandro treating you right?”
Nivera’s heart skipped as she knew the answer to that, but she couldn't say the same to Marceline.
She opened her mouth—then froze when the front door opened.
Shoes.
Alejandro was finally home.
Marceline turned with a warm smile.
Nivera stayed frozen in place, pulse racing, unsure what was crazier—that he was the one protecting her name…
Or that he was also the one holding her hostage.