The Billionaire's Dangerous Obsession - Chapter 64: Chapter 64

Alejandro adjusted the silver cufflinks on his sleeves with precise, measured movements, standing before the mirror in his massive walk-in closet.
The room was dimly lit, casting warm golden light across the fine-cut lines of his tailored suit.
The scent of clean cologne and expensive fabric hung in the air. He looked calm and confused, but he was anything but composed.
His jaw flexed in annoyance over the swirl of thoughts that had been happening in his head.Normally, he could get his thoughts under control, but not this time.
He hated this. Not the function, not the dressing up, not even the fake smiles and endless cameras that he'd have to face later on—no, he could handle that.
What he hated was the noise in his head, the soft echo of footsteps from earlier, the breathy laugh, and the sweet, infuriating rise and fall of her voice.
Nivera.
The woman who had entered his life accidentally.
He reached for his watch and slid it on slowly, the soft click of metal tightening against his wrist sounding louder than it should.
He was supposed to be thinking about the event, the business associates he would have to make eye contact with, and the politicians and investors that would flock around him like sharks scenting blood.
But his thoughts had been elsewhere. For days now. For far too long, it needed to stop.
It had been subtle at first. A little glance here, a comment there. But lately? She’d been messing with the order in his world.
She was a distraction. An infuriating one, yet one he found himself more and more addicted to.
Alejandro reached for his tie and let it drape around his neck, pausing as the memory crept in.
Nivera, standing before him in that red satin dress. The way her chest had risen and fallen with shallow breaths. How the strap had slipped off her shoulder just so.
He swallowed hard.
She didn’t know it, but their interactions were the only moments in his day that felt… appealing. Everything else was chaos.
Paperwork, strategy, threats, and enemies hiding behind deals. He lived his life with a blade pressed against his neck—and then she came in, and for the first time ever, he found a woman he could tolerate.
Goodness! Alejandro chuckled dryly under his breath.
He should have destroyed her from the start, as he wouldn't be standing in his closet unable to get her out of his mind.
That had been the plan. To reduce her to nothing. But lately? He didn’t even want to raise his voice at her.
She was like a soft, damn breeze in the heat of his madness.
And that was dangerous, both for him and for her.
And that kiss. Especially that kiss.
His fingers stilled over the tie.
It replayed in his mind like some damn song stuck on repeat. He'd had kisses before—hundreds, maybe.
But that one?
It crawled under his skin, spreading like poison in his bloodstream. It wasn't just how soft her lips had been or the surprised little gasp she'd let out.
It was how present he’d been in that moment. How real it felt, and he hated reality.
He growled, tugging at the tie with more force than necessary.
He hadn’t had sex since she’d come into his life. That had to be it. It was just... lack of release. Pent-up frustration.
Nothing more. That would explain the way his body reacted to hers. The heat in his gut every time she stepped into a room.
Like earlier, when she came out in those damn dresses.
Red. Green. Black. That champagne-coloured one that made her look like a goddamn gift-wrapped sin.
And that final one—the black one that clung to her body, slit high, neckline scandalously low. He had nearly lost it.
He adjusted his collar, ignoring the growing tightness in his trousers.
Fuck.
The number of things that went through his mind as she walked out in those dresses… he couldn’t even say out loud. Not unless he wanted to terrify her—or himself.
Her lips. Her skin. The smooth line of her back when he fixed her zip. The way she reacted to his voice like it was physically wired to her spine.
God, he wanted to kiss her again. Devour her.
No. He shook his head. That wasn’t happening. He didn’t want a relationship. Didn’t need it.
It made men soft. Weak. Like half the fools begging for scraps at the feet of women who didn’t care for them, or the women who let their life go because of a man.
He would not fall. Not for anyone. And especially not for someone as wild and unpredictable as Nivera Elton.
He began knotting his tie, hands moving on muscle memory. But his thoughts didn’t stop.
They were going to a party tonight. A big one. High-end. Flashbulbs and press and half of the industry watching.
Nivera would be seen. Not just seen—noticed—and that made something dark rise in his chest.
Alejandro clenched his jaw. He could already picture the bastards who would try something.
The way their gazes would linger too long or how they’d come up with fake smiles and wandering hands.
He would break every last one of them.
If he had his way, he would rather stay home. However, Nivera needed to boost her visibility again, remind the industry of who she was.
Her face in front of the cameras would put her back in the headlines—and her scandal would continue to be washed away.
And the only reason he was doing so was because she was his investment.
She’d help him too. Just by being there, dressed like that, she’d keep the desperate women at bay. Those vultures circling for a chance to claim the mysterious bachelor.
This arrangement served them both.
Strictly beneficial.
That was all.
And yet…
He paused halfway through the knot, staring blankly at his reflection.
Was it really because she was his investment?
He remembered all too well the way she had laughed. The genuine one, not the sarcastic smirk she usually wore.
The softness in her eyes when he tended to her bruised cheek.
She had gotten under his skin far more than he had imagined.
Alejandro sighed, adjusting the knot in his tie again.
"I’m losing it," he muttered.
Just as he gave the tie one last tug, he walked out of the closet and back into his room and immediately, there was a soft knock at the door.
“Come in.”
“Alejandro,” the door opened, and he heard the voice of the culprit who had been plaguing his thoughts.
He turned, and when he opened it, every breath left his body.
Nivera stood there, framed in the soft hallway light. Her hair was styled effortlessly, cascading down her shoulders in smooth waves. Her makeup was subtle but accentuated every alluring feature. And that black dress...
Fuck.
She was a vision. Seduction wrapped in silk and shadow.
Alejandro’s jaw tightened, and he had to physically stop his eyes from roaming too long.
She arched a brow, clearly amused. "Are you going to say something or just stare?"
He blinked, forcing composure back into his face.
"We’re going to be late; I haven't finished getting ready," he said evenly.
“Oh,” that was her simple response.
That was a lie. He was done getting ready, but with him seeing her, he needed a moment to himself and to get the growing bulge in his pants under control.
His heart thudded in a way it never had before, and he didn’t have a name for what that meant.
“I'll wait for you downstairs,” she told him.
“Wait here,” he instructed her.
He turned back toward the mirror under the guise of checking his tie, but really, he was buying time—time to bury the sudden storm of heat rushing through him. Her scent clung to the air like temptation.
Maybe it would’ve been smarter not to go tonight. To keep her at home. Hidden.
But what did that say about him?
That he didn’t want to share her.
That she was becoming something... his.
No. He shook his head firmly. That wasn’t what this was. She was useful, unpredictable but sharp. She brought colour into a world that had been grey for too long.
Most importantly, she was helping him.
And after tonight, maybe she’d land something again. A runway show. A contract. Something that would keep her busy and out of his head.
But even as he thought that, Alejandro knew he was lying to himself.
Because some twisted, possessive part of him didn’t want her to leave.
He wanted her close. Where he could see her. Control the chaos she brought.
And maybe, just maybe... keep pretending she didn't
The sound of her heels clicking gently against the marble floor echoed through his suite as she moved past him. He looked up and caught a glimpse of her in the mirror—confident, stunning, a challenge and a prize wrapped into one.
He muttered under his breath, more to himself than anything.
"Tonight's going to be hell."
But he was already sure of one thing—
He wouldn’t be able to take his eyes off her, and so would a lot of men.
And heaven help the man who tried to put a hand on her.