The Billionaire's Dangerous Obsession - Chapter 58: Chapter 58

Nivera looked at the woman who was staring at her back with a cool and calm composure.
“What happened to my feisty daughter, who would’ve thrown a punch by now?” Aria asked, as she smoothed down her sleeve with a calm grace that made her seem almost regal.
Then—without missing a beat—she delivered another slap, this time to the glossy-lipped woman who had done most of the insulting.
The crack echoed through the shoe section like a whip, and Nivera couldn't help but revel in how satisfying it was.
The woman gasped, stumbling back as she clutched her cheek in disbelief. “How dare you?!”
Aria raised her chin slightly, her expression cool and unmoved. “Aria Elton,” she said evenly, her voice dangerously calm. “Nivera’s mother. And the slut, apparently.”
And just like that, time froze.
The insult the women had thrown so carelessly now boomeranged and hit them in the face with the full weight of who they were dealing with.
Aria Elton!
Their expressions collapsed in real time—shock first, then confusion, then absolute dread. Every trace of colour drained from their faces.
And now that they looked properly, really looked, the resemblance between Aria and Nivera was undeniable.
The same almond-shaped eyes, the same high cheekbones, the same way they both held their heads like royalty at that point in time.
The Elton family wasn’t just wealthy. They weren’t just powerful. They were untouchable.
They were the rulers of the financial world. A name that shook politicians, celebrities, executives as they held their deepest darkest financial secrets.
Aria let the silence stretch just long enough to suffocate them. Then she added, “Well? Would either of you like to give me your last names?”
The question was simple. But the implication was lethal.
All Aria had to do was to get back and do some digging and all the tax evasions, money laundering their family might or might not have done would ‘anonymously’ come to light.
“I—I’m sorry,” one of the women stammered, her lips trembling.
“We didn’t mean—”
Aria smiled lightly, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes.
“Oh, I’m not looking for an apology,” she said in a voice that sounded almost too kind. “Just your last names. That’s all.”
Nivera let out a small chuckle despite herself, her cheek still throbbing. She’d forgotten what it felt like to watch her mother work—cold, composed, lethal, like a queen playing chess with real lives.
And for once, Nivera didn’t mind being her daughter.
She then caught her reflection in the mirror close to where she stood, pausing just long enough to see the red mark blossoming across her cheek.
For a heartbeat, the heat rose to her face—not from pain, but from the emotion it carried.
First Alejandro, now this.
She wouldn't have ever imagined that the day would pass with her mother standing up for her.
Nivera had forgotten how effortlessly her mother commanded power and how a few words from her could leave someone shaking in their boots
And though the air in her lungs felt hot and tight, Nivera couldn’t deny the dark part of her that had enjoyed it.
The women didn’t speak. They couldn’t. Even the bravest social climber would know better than to offer their names to a woman who could make one phone call and ensure your bank accounts were audited, your family investigated, and your assets frozen by morning.
Just then, the boutique manager came rushing toward them, his shoes clicking rapidly across the tiles, and his face lit up in alarm and then recognition.
“Mrs Elton!” he gasped, instantly straightening. “My deepest apologies—I didn’t realize you were visiting today.”
His eyes then found Nivera, and a surprised smile formed. “Oh, and you’re here with your mother this time.” He nodded. “Thank God, I don't have to worry about you using your father's stolen card.”
Nivera let out a grin as she was hit with memories of how she was banned from shopping there because her father couldn't control her stealing his card.
The remaining staff nearby, already frozen by the scene, now began to murmur and whisper among themselves as realization spread.
Aria gave the manager a polite nod. “Was passing by and decided to stop by your lovely store. Shame about the guests.”
The manager’s brows furrowed as he noticed the red, swelling imprint on Nivera’s cheek, and his eyes finally fell on two women who looked scared. “What happened, ma’am?”
“My daughter was assaulted,” Aria said plainly. “Verbally and physically. On your premises.”
The man’s entire demeanour shifted. The joviality vanished from his features like smoke being sucked from a room.
“I sincerely apologize,” he said gravely. “This is unacceptable. I’ll handle it immediately.”
He turned and gestured to two security guards who had appeared silently behind him.
After a few hushed but firm words, the women were escorted—no, dragged—out of the store, their high-end shoes clicking in frantic rhythm across the floor.
“They will be banned,” the manager declared. “From every branch under our brand. For life.”
“Thank you,” Aria smiled.
The moment the manager disappeared, the tension began to deflate. Aria turned to Nivera, her sharp gaze scanning her face.
“What are you doing here?” Nivera asked with a mixture of confusion and suspicion.
Aria raised an eyebrow. “Shopping. What does it look like?”
Nivera crossed her arms. “And how long have you been shopping?”
Aria shrugged. “The entire time.”
A bitter laugh escaped Nivera’s throat. “You watched the whole thing and didn’t step in?”