The Billionaire's Dangerous Obsession - Chapter 42: Chapter 42

Alejandro squinted ever so slightly at the woman who was in the living room with Nivera, his dark eyes narrowing in a flash of something unreadable.
But then, with a practiced ease, his face shifted and his lips curved into a smile—warm on the surface, yet Nivera couldn’t help but notice how stiff his shoulders remained.
“Mom,” he greeted smoothly, stepping forward to press a light kiss to Marceline’s cheek.
“My dear boy,” Marceline beamed, touching his face with both hands affectionately before pulling him into a hug.
Alejandro let her, but Nivera noticed the delay—barely a second, yet telling. He didn’t melt into her touch the way most sons would.
There was a resistance in him, one that lingered like a silent question.
As Marceline pulled back and turned her attention to Nivera again, Nivera couldn’t help but study the two of them. Marceline was elegant, poised, and carried herself with a maternal warmth that made her instantly likable.
Yet Alejandro, for all his charm, hadn’t softened around her. Not even for a moment.
He wasn’t just guarded with her—he was contained. Controlled. Calculated. Did Marceline not see that fact, or was she only seeing it because he had shed his mask around her and made her see the real him?
Even his own mother wasn’t spared.
The realization sent a shiver down Nivera’s spine. What kind of man didn’t trust his own mother? What had happened to make him build walls that high around his heart?
She had seen how easily he slipped into the role of protector when it suited him, how he commanded fear and loyalty in equal measure—but what haunted him so deeply that not even a woman like Marceline could touch it?
Whatever it was… it hadn’t made him strong. It had made him cold, and that would ultimately be his downfall.
“I’ll prepare something for dinner,” Marceline announced, brushing invisible lint from her blouse as she looked between the two.
“Something light and warm. It’s been a while since I cooked for you, and Nivera will be able to taste my cooking.”
A frown immediately appeared on Alejandro’s face over his mother's words, and it was obvious he didn't want her to stay. “Mother, that’s not necessary. We’ll—”
“Nonsense,” she interrupted, waving a hand at him like she had when he was still a boy.
“I know my way around your kitchen better than you do, Alejandro. And besides, it’ll give you and Nivera time to catch up.”
He opened his mouth to argue again, but Marceline was already making her way to the kitchen with a cheerful hum, as though the very idea of refusal was absurd.
Alejandro watched her retreat with a clenched jaw before sighing through his nose and turning his gaze to Nivera.
He then followed his mother and Nivera was left standing awkwardly. Just as she decided to join them, Alejandro returned with a bottle of wine and a glass in his hands.
“So,” he muttered, as he began to pour himself a glass of wine, one he gulped down in one go. “I suppose this is the part where you kiss me and ask me how my day was?”
Nivera’s eyes narrowed at his words. “No,” she shook her head, her voice calm but firm. “This is the part where I ask why you filed those lawsuits.”
Alejandro paused, his back to her, the bottle of wine hovering in midair. Slowly, he poured a generous amount, then set the bottle down with a faint click.
He didn’t turn around immediately, as if letting the question hang between them like smoke.
When he finally faced her, his expression was unreadable.
“Well, because I had to,” he answered vaguely, further confusing Nivera.
“No, you told me you didn’t care about the rumours,” Nivera countered. “You said it didn’t bother you what people thought. So why go that far?”
He took a sip of the wine, then walked past her to the couch, lounging like he owned not just the space, but the very air she breathed. His tone was light, almost mocking. “Because I can.”
Nivera blinked. “I know you can, but why?”
He smirked. “I love crushing people, and I've had my eye on a particular new agency. A few well-placed calls, a team of rabid lawyers, and suddenly the little rats start running for their lives. Such a glorious sight.”
Her jaw tensed. “So you used me as an excuse for a power play?”
Alejandro tilted his head, eyes glinting. “Don’t flatter yourself. You were just the trigger. The rest was already overdue.”
Anger coiled in her chest like a snake. “You made it about me. You filed lawsuits in my name. You put my face on those statements. You said I was defamed. That I was innocent.”
“And weren’t you?” he asked, voice suddenly sharp. “Or do you regret that I made people shut up about what happened between you and Nathaniel?”
Her voice rose, despite herself. “That’s not the point, Alejandro!”
He didn’t flinch. Didn’t even blink. “Then what is?”
Nivera stood there, her fists clenched at her sides. “The point is, you took control of something that wasn’t yours to control. You didn’t even ask me if I wanted that. You just… bulldozed over my life again like it belonged to you.”
Silence.
Alejandro looked at her for a long moment, then chuckled under his breath. “You sound awfully ungrateful.”
“Ungrateful?” Her voice cracked with disbelief, and she turned to the direction of the kitchen to ensure that Marceline wouldn't walk in on them.
“I cleaned up your reputation,” he said, standing now. “I buried the man who tried to ruin you. And what do I get in return? Glares. Accusations. As if I’m the villain in your little story.”
“You are the villain, Alejandro!” she snapped. “Because you think protecting someone gives you the right to own them!”
The words echoed off the walls like a slap. Alejandro’s expression shifted. Something darker flickered behind his eyes.
He stepped closer, slowly, like a predator measuring the distance between itself and its prey.
“You really don’t get it,” he said quietly. “You never did.”
“Then explain it to me,” she challenged. “Tell me why you’re like this. Tell me why you push everyone away, even your own mother. Why do you act like no one deserves to know the real you.”
He stopped just in front of her. Their faces were inches apart, and she could feel the heat radiating off him.
His jaw twitched, but he said nothing for a moment. Just stared at her with something between fury and fascination.
“My my, who would have thought you to be an observant little bird, Cabezota” he grinned.
“Answer the question, Alejandro. If I'm going to be trapped in your world, I should know some things about you.”
“People like me,” he said at last, voice low and cold, “don’t get the luxury of softness. We don’t get to trust. We don’t get to hope. Because if we do, someone uses it to carve us open.”
There it was. The crack in the mask.
Nivera’s anger faltered, if only slightly. “Who hurt you like that?”
Alejandro scoffed and turned away, downing the rest of his wine like water. “That’s none of your business.”
“But I’m living in your prison, Alejandro,” she said quietly. “I think that makes it my business.”
His back stiffened.
For the first time, he looked genuinely shaken—just for a breath of a second—before his walls snapped back up like steel gates slamming shut.
“I gave you shelter. I gave you protection. That should be enough. Don't go digging for what doesn't need to be dug up.”
“I’m not,” Nivera retorted. “I don’t want a protector who wears a leash around my neck.”
From the kitchen, Marceline’s voice could be heard as she was singing, unaware of the chaos happening right under her nose.
Nivera didn’t move. Neither did Alejandro.
They stood in silence—her heart pounding, his fists clenched, the air thick with tension.
It was unfair that he knew so much about her, and she barely knew anything about him.
If finding out the backstory to Alejandro was the last thing she needed to do, she would and when she finally found a weakness, she would make him pay.