The Billionaire's Dangerous Obsession - Chapter 44: Chapter 44

Dinner went by in a heartbeat, and it was time for Marceline to leave.
“It was lovely having you tonight,” Nivera said as she bid the woman farewell, who hugged her in return.
“Thank you, honey,” Marceline responded as she turned to face her son. “Take care of yourself, Alejandro.”
Smiling, he bent to kiss her cheek. “I will. Take care of yourself, too.”
Marceline nodded, and she got into her car. They watched the car leave, and once it was out of sight, Alejandro turned to face Nivera.
“I meant what I said, Nivera. Forget about what happened, or I will kill you.”
That was all he said before he turned and walked into the mansion, leaving her outside.
That night, as Nivera lay in bed, her thoughts spun in a thousand different directions. She had seen the man behind the mask—just for a moment.
If she was going to survive in this world he had trapped her in, she needed to know more.
She needed to understand what made Alejandro tick, why he was the way he was, so she could use it against him. And Marceline… His mother might just hold the key to unlocking his past.
Tomorrow, she would find a way to get closer to her because in this game, knowledge was power, and she intended to be the one with the advantage.
A sliver of sunlight leaked through the heavy curtains, casting a faint golden line across the ceiling, which made Nivera stir, her lashes fluttering before her eyes snapped open.
He was there again.
Seated like a damn king on the edge of the bed, Alejandro, dressed in a crisp black shirt unbuttoned at the collar, was casually scrolling through a tablet like this was his office—like her bed was his throne.
Nivera jolted upright, pulling the blanket higher out of instinct, her heart hammering.
“What the hell is wrong with you?!” She spat, her voice thick with sleep and fury. “Do you just sneak into people’s rooms and sit there like some creep?”
Alejandro didn’t look up. His lips twitched—amused. “This is my house, Cabezona. I can go wherever I want.”
Her fingers clenched the sheets. “That doesn’t give you the right to sit by my bed and watch me sleep like some psychopath!”
“I wasn’t watching you sleep. I was on my tablet,” he yawned, his eyes trailing deliberately down her barely-covered frame, “though now that you mention it, I probably should have.”
“You son of a—”
“Careful,” he cut in smoothly, voice like velvet over glass. “You’re forgetting something.”
Her mouth parted, about to fire back—but then it hit her. The evil glint in his eyes reminded her of the fact that he held her passport, her money, and her freedom.
Not for long, the voice in Nivera’s head said as her jaw clenched. She inhaled sharply, trying to force the panic down.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, quieter now.
Alejandro stood, setting the tablet aside like he’d just concluded a morning meeting.
“Watching you,” he admitted after lying about it, and her eyes narrowed as she swallowed the insults she had conjured in her head.
“You talk in your sleep.” She snapped out of her thoughts when she heard him say.
“I do not—”
“You do,” he replied, stepping closer, arms folding. “You said my name. Three times.”
“No, I didn't!” She denied but even as she spoke, she wasn't sure, as she had definitely dreamt about Alejandro even though she had no recollection of what it was about.
Her cheeks flamed. Whether from embarrassment or rage, she didn’t know.
“Go to hell.”
“Already been there,” he murmured, his tone almost wistful. “Didn’t like the company. That’s why I keep you around. For the entertainment.”
He brushed past her toward the door, and just as she thought he might finally leave, he paused and looked back over his shoulder.
“Be downstairs in fifteen, as breakfast will be served. You’re coming with me today.”
She frowned. “Coming with you where?”
“You’ll find out,” he simply responded. “Wear something that won’t embarrass me.”
And then he was gone, the door closing with a quiet finality that felt louder than a slam.
“Bastard!” Nivera cursed as she got out of bed regardless to get ready.
Fifteen minutes later, she found something passable to wear—a fitted cream blouse she hated for its politeness and a pair of black jeans that still smelt faintly of a boutique she once modelled for.
Her hair was pulled up hastily, lips bare. It wasn't the best, but she had to make do, as Alejandro hadn't given her much time.
Downstairs, the scent of butter and rosemary drifted through the air.
Alejandro was already seated at the head of the table, with a cup of coffee in his hand, like a man preparing to host a political summit rather than breakfast.
Alejandro set his phone down, and she noticed he was texting to his mother, “My mom really likes you. What's your secret?”
Nivera crossed her arms as she was still feeling guilty over the fact that Alejandro was lying to his mother about them.
“That doesn’t seem to bother you? Lying to her? Alejandro, she's your mother,” she whispered when he continued to sip on his coffee casually.
His lips curved slightly. “It makes things more interesting. The closer you get to her, the more cautious you’ll have to be.”
“Because she might find out what you really are?”
“Because you might forget what I really am,” he said, voice dropping a notch.
She opened her mouth to respond—but stopped, as she didn't even understand what he meant by that.
She reached for a slice of toast, keeping her expression neutral. “Where are we going today?”
Alejandro leaned back in his chair. “You’ll see,” was all he said in response.
Her stomach turned, as that didn't seem like something good, but she forced herself to have breakfast.
Because Alejandro was right about one thing.
She couldn’t afford to forget what he was.
But what he didn’t know?
She was beginning to learn. Sooner or later, she would use his game plan against him.