The Billionaire's Dangerous Obsession - Chapter 63: Chapter 63

Nivera stood in the closet, staring at the intimidating number of dresses sprawled across the low velvet bench and dangling from golden hooks.
She huffed as she tore open the first shopping bag. “You did this to yourself,” she muttered under her breath. “Spend his money like a spoilt heiress; now strut like one.”
Goodness, she would have never envisioned that Alejandro would make her try all the dresses as punishment.
She expected a scolding, but definitely not this.
The first dress was a bold red satin piece, hugging her curves in all the places that would make a nun cry. She hesitated for a beat, then put it on and stepped out.
The moment she opened the closet door and stepped out, Alejandro’s head turned.
His gaze dragged up her frame slowly—painfully slowly—from her legs to her hips, up her waist, resting on her chest for just a breath longer than polite. Then his eyes finally met hers.
Heat. That was what ran through her body, all thanks to Alejandro’s intense gaze.
His expression had shifted. Gone was the teasing smirk. In its place was something darker, quieter. Intense.
And Nivera? She forgot how to breathe.
It was like he was seeing her for the first time, and if she didn't know any better, she'd think he was mesmerized by her.
“Well?” she asked, shifting awkwardly under his scrutiny. “Say something,” she urged him.
Alejandro stood, slow and deliberate, smoothing out the creases in his shirt, which showed he was disoriented, as there were no creases in his crisply ironed shirt.
“Come here,” he ordered.
She blinked. “What—”
“I said, ‘Come here’.”
It wasn’t a demand. It wasn’t even a suggestion.
It was simply a statement, confident in the knowledge that she would.
And she did.
As she stepped forward, Alejandro moved around her like a predator circling prey. His fingers skimmed lightly over her shoulder, adjusting a misplaced strap. He didn’t say anything yet. Didn’t have to. His touch was enough.
Her breath hitched as he reached around to tug the zip a little higher.
The ghost of his fingers brushing her spine sent a shockwave through her body, and she went stock-still.
“You didn’t close it properly,” he murmured behind her, his breath grazing her nape. “Or did you want me to notice?”
Her jaw clenched as she took a deep breath to gather herself. “You’re so full of yourself.”
“And yet here you are—trying on dresses in my room. On my bed. With my card.”
“It's my room and my bed, and because you asked me to,” she stated.
“Don't forget, Cabezota, this house belongs to me along with everything in it,” he whispered into her ear, which sent shivers down her spine.
He then walked in front of her again, hands in his pockets now, eyes low and… hungry. “Turn.”
She did.
“Slower.”
She groaned, half annoyed, half flustered, and twirled again.
When she faced him once more, he gave a small nod. “Nice.”
“Just nice?” she asked, arching a brow.
“I’m trying not to say what I’m actually thinking,” he replied, eyes dropping briefly to her lips.
“And what are you thinking?” Nivera dared to ask.
“That I might need a cage. And a lock. For you, so only I can get to see you in that dress.”
Nivera’s mouth parted, a thousand reactions bubbling at once, none of them appropriate.
Before she could respond, he gestured to the closet. “Next.”
The process continued—dress after dress, each more dangerous than the last.
A sleek emerald piece, a black velvet gown with a slit that revealed nearly all of her thigh, and a royal blue backless dress that made Alejandro stop mid-sip of water and visibly swallow.
At one point, she stepped out in a soft champagne dress, delicate straps sliding down her shoulders. His eyes pinned her in place.
“You’re not wearing that one.”
She blinked. “Why not?”
“Because if you do, I’ll have to kill someone. Probably a few people. That colour makes your skin glow.” He tilted his head. “And you’re not allowed to glow for anyone but me.”
She stared at him. “That’s… possessive.”
He didn’t flinch. “I know. That should have been well established.”
The teasing tone was gone again. That intensity had returned. It filled the space like smoke, curling around her, making her feel bare even fully dressed.
She cleared her throat. “There are three more. Want to keep going, or are you ready to choose your favourite now?”
Alejandro said nothing. He stepped forward again, eyes dropping to the zipper on her current gown.
She raised a brow. “Problem?”
“Not a problem. Just...” His fingers reached out and undid the zipper halfway, pulling the gown slightly off her shoulder. “This one’s twisted. You didn’t notice.”
“I was in a rush,” she said quickly, pulse hammering.
He didn’t move.
Instead, he looked up at her, still crouched slightly behind her shoulder. “You should have called me.”
“I didn’t know ‘zipping gowns’ was in your skill set.”
“Oh, Nivera,” he murmured, “you have no idea what’s in my skill set.”
His voice dropped into something wicked. Her knees nearly gave out as she understood the innuendo behind his words, and a part of her wanted to rile him up so he'd let her experience it.
He fixed the zipper again, brushing her skin once more, then backed away. “Put on the last one.”
She nodded, retreating like her life depended on it.
The final dress was sleek, sculpted, and dangerous. Black, floor-length, with a slit that ran all the way up one thigh and a plunging neckline that made her almost reconsider it.
She almost reconsidered—almost. But the hunger to see Alejandro’s reaction burned hotter.
She had saved this dress for last, and she'd be damned if she didn't show him.
When she stepped out, Alejandro stood waiting.
He didn’t speak. His eyes simply moved—slowly, reverently—like she wasn’t even real.
She watched as his jaw tightened, hands sliding into his pockets as if he needed to keep them there, or he’d do something he’d regret.
He walked up to her and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear.
“This one,” he said softly. “This is the one you’ll wear tonight.”
Nivera swallowed. “Why?”
“Because you look like a secret no one deserves to know,” he replied. “And I like watching men suffer.”
She laughed, despite herself. “You’re evil.”
“No,” he murmured. “I’m focused. Don't let any man get too close, Cabezota, or someone will lose their life.”
Nivera gulped, as she knew Alejandro wasn't joking.
He stepped back, giving her one final look. “We leave in two hours. The beauty team should be here soon.”
Then he turned, calm as ever, and walked out.
Nivera stood frozen for a long moment, her heart in knots, her stomach still fluttering.
She looked at herself in the mirror—and realized he was right.
She did look like a secret.
But more importantly?
She kind of wanted to be his secret.
What was happening to her?
She should be furious, resistant, and running. But all she could think of was how he looked at her like she was something priceless. And how, deep down, she liked it.-