The Billionaire's Dangerous Obsession - Chapter 97: Chapter 97

Nivera stood outside the doors of the mansion for a long time, long after the helper had opened it for her.
The cool breeze brushed against her skin, and her arms folded tightly as if that could shield her from the weight pressing on her chest.
This was stupid; she didn’t do anything wrong. Damon kissed her. She didn’t kiss him and had stopped him.
She immediately walked away. So why did it feel like she had betrayed him?
Her heels clicked softly against the marble floors as she finally entered the mansion.
The lights were dimmed; most of the staff had either retired or were tending to duties elsewhere.
However, everything was still, too still. It seemed Alejandro hadn't returned home. Good, at least she'd still have some time to herself.
She made her way upstairs in silence, clutching her purse to her chest as if it could hold back the pounding of her heart.
She didn’t want to think about whether she’d tell Alejandro or not. Not yet. All she wanted was just a quick shower and sleep.
When she reached her room, the moonlight was spilling through the tall windows, casting Nivera shadows across the floor.
She exhaled as she shut the door behind her and began to unzip her dress.
"Back so soon, Cabezota? Her fingers paused midway when a voice sliced through the darkness.
“I thought he might keep you out till tomorrow.”
Her heart jumped into her throat as she looked around. For a moment, all she could see were shadows. Then—
Click.
The light came on, warm and soft, but it did nothing to ease the chill that flooded her spine.
Alejandro sat on the velvet sofa at the corner of the room, his legs spread lazily apart, his elbow resting over the armrest. His suit jacket lay folded beside him.
His shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, exposing his forearms, and the first few buttons of his shirt were undone, a look of effortless sin.
He looked like temptation. But his eyes? They were hellfire, and they were threatening to burn her.
She blinked, barely able to process the switch in lighting, her breath caught in her throat. “W-What… what are you doing in here?”
He tilted his head slightly. “Funny. I was going to ask you the same thing.”
Her back stiffened as she stared into those blue eyes of his. “This is my room.”
He smiled—but it wasn’t the charming, playful one he usually wore in public. This one didn’t reach his eyes. “Ah. Right—silly me. I forgot you were a guest here. With… freedom.”
His tone was coated with sarcasm, but there was no humour, no teasing glint, just ice.
She stepped back slightly, confusion knitting her brow. “Why are you talking like that?”
“Company crisis,” he said dryly. “It’s always a crisis these days. Almost made me miss the real show.”
She frowned as warning bells went off in her head. “What are you talking about?”
He stood slowly, walking toward her. Each step was deliberate, calculated. He stopped a few feet from her, just close enough that she had to tilt her head to meet his eyes.
“I’m talking about the little meeting you had after lunch with my mother,” he stated, folding his arms. “You know. With Damon.”
Her breath hitched, and her eyes widened in horror. There it was.
How did he know about the fact that she was with Damon? And more importantly, how did he know about Damon?
Her lips parted, but no sound came out.
She hadn’t even told anyone. Marceline had left. There had barely been any staff at the restaurant. Damon had just shown up. There hadn’t been paparazzi, there hadn’t been—
“I don’t understand—”
“Oh, come on, Nivera,” he cut in, his voice hard now. “Don’t insult both of us.”
She took a slow breath. “How do you know about that?”
Alejandro’s gaze sharpened. He didn’t blink as he answered. “You think I don’t have eyes, Cabezota?”
Of course. Just because Alejandro wasn't there didn't mean he didn't have his eyes on her.
His eyes followed her like a predator sizing up a deer. “So… tell me,” he started. “Did you enjoy your reunion with him?”
Nivera swallowed hard as the knot in her stomach tightened.
“I didn’t know he was going to be there,” she said quietly.
“Hmm,” Alejandro replied. “Let’s say that I believe you…”
He paused, his eyes sharp and unreadable. “But walk me through you kissing him.”
Her jaw slackened, then quickly set. “He kissed me; I didn't kiss—”
“And you didn’t push him away.”
“I did!” she snapped, her voice rising with frustration and guilt. “I did, Alejandro. It caught me off guard, and I immediately shut it down. I told him we were over. That the kiss meant nothing.”
He stepped forward again, closer this time. His presence felt suffocating, but not because he was loud. Because he was silent, still, and heavy.
Alejandro’s eyes didn’t soften. “And you didn’t think that was worth telling me immediately?”
“I was trying to figure out how to,” she whispered. “It was a bit confus—”
“And why were you confused?” His voice dropped. “If it meant nothing, there’s nothing to weigh, is there?”
She swallowed hard. “Because I didn’t want you to think I wanted it. Or that I’m like him. Or that I can’t be trusted.” She looked down. “Because I already feel like shit.”
“Hmm,” He hummed with a calmness that felt more terrifying than rage.
“You didn’t kiss him,” he repeated softly. “Were you still remembering what it felt like to have him back? Was it nostalgia, Nivera? Curiosity? Or maybe…” He paused once again. “Maybe you forgot whose bed you sleep in now.”
“No, Alejandro!” Nivera hissed sharply. What was wrong with him? Why wasn't he listening to her? “You don’t get to speak to me like that.”
“No?” Alejandro chuckled. “You don't get to tell me how to react after you went ahead to kiss another man.”
His voice was still calm, but his shoulders were rigid as he towered over her.
“He was your first, wasn't he?” He then asked, lifting Nivera's chin with two fingers.
However, before she could respond, he slammed his lips against her parted ones.