The Billionaire's Dangerous Obsession (Nivera) novel Chapter 101

Alejandro stared down at the woman who had fallen arep on him. The audacity!

He wanted more of her, but he had exhausted her.

Adjusting her head so she wouldn’t wake up with a pain in her neck, he got up gently from the bed and brought a fresh towel wet in warm water an wiped Rivera clean completely.

And after he was done, he went to take a warm baths.

The water tan hot, and be hissed as he sat immersed in the tub.

His head leaned back against the porcelain edge, black strands of wet hair slicked away from his forehead, and lashes dropped with dampness.

The scent of cedar and bergamot from the bath oil drifted through the air, but it did little to save the tension in him, as his thoughts weren’t still, and it was all because of her.

And that bastard’s lips on Nivera. His woman,

He shut his

seyes, and the image that had branded itself into his mind immediately came to mind.

He could still see it–Nivera, in that figure hugging emerald dress, tilting her head with that amused little smile she wore when she wanted to appear unaffected. That mouth pressed on someone else’s.

Alejandro’s fingers twitched beneath the surface. The anger, the possessiveness it wasn’t unfamiliar, but this time, it burnt differently.

It had started with a call.

A call from the manager at the place his mother frequented, the same and she had asked Nivers to meet her at. He answered only because he assumed it had to do with Marceline.

It always did.

Ever since she’d collapsed there two years ago, he had placed an unofficial guard on the premises. It was a quiet arrangement: a set of eyes to watch from a respectful distance whenever his mother dined there alone,

It was to be discreet and unintrusive.

But this time, the call wasn’t about Marceline.

“She left already, sir,” the man on the other end said, “but your companion remained. She… was seen with someone.”

Alejandro’s grip on the edge of the tub tightened, and his knuckles whitened.

“She who?” he had asked coldly, but deep down, he already knew.

“Miss Nivera Elton. You said to report anything unusual.”

Alejandro had paused for a second. “And!”

The man hesitated, as if aware that the next words might cost him his job.

“She was seen… kissing a man. His name is Damon Damon Castillo.”

Damon Castillo.

The name rang too loudly in Alejandro’s ears as the water threatened to boil from the heat of his skin alone, and it wasn’t because he was the youngest

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Chapter 101

Son of the Castillo empire.

“I thought you’d want to know, sir. From what I gathered, they seemed to have known each other before.”

Alejandro’s heart had thundered so loudly in that moment that for a brief second, he’d felt lightheaded

Martins‘ report. Of course,

He had been thorough when he first had Nivera Investigate. It was always standard. Anyone who entered his spate was studied, filed, and stored in a

According to that report, Damon Castillo was her ex–just a name, with a note that he and flivera had been in a relationship that had ended before her

father even kicked her out.

There was no scandal attached to him, to notable ties to her current career, and not a soul mentioned him since.

But now?

Alejandro’s jaw clenched so tightly he could hear the bone creak in his ears.

Of all the people of all the possible outcomes. Her ex?

The water churned slightly as he shifted in the bath. One hand raked through his hair, his breathing slow but dangerously controlled.

Alejandro sat forward, his chest heaving slightly, as droplets slid down his temples.

He hadn’t expected to feel this.

Anger? Sure. That was expected. She was his–at least to the world.

His name and reputation had been tied to her the moment he announced her as his. The world saw her as his woman now, and he had no intention of letting that image crack.

She might not wear his ring or share his name, but the world had seen her on his arm. In his car. In his home.

And someone had dared to touch her?

He didn’t just touch her, he fucking kissed her, and it was worse that it was him. Damon. A part of her past.

Damon was a man

a man who had known her before he touched her–maybe held her when she cried.

He didn’t care for her. He didn’t do the whole love–and–jealousy routine. He never had. Love was a trap, a distraction, a weakness.

But this? This was about disrespect.

Disrespect he would not tolerate.

Except that explanation didn’t soothe the fire licking up his spine. It didn’tease the way his stomach twisted at the thought of her laughing at something the bastard had said.

of her letting someone else that close. Letting someone else taste her.

What did she feel when Damon touched her? Did her breath hitch? Did she soften? Did she lean in, or did he pull her in?

That simple truth echoed like a war drum.

It shouldn’t matter. She was free to do as she pleased, She didn’t belong to him.

But that was a fucking lie, and he knew it,

Chapter 101

She did belong to him.

He’d made sure of it

He made the

and she was his. Whether the liked it or not

And if she thought she could break away just became of come history resurfacing, the didn’t understand

(what being h

He growled under his breath, the sound swallowed by steam.

That first night he touched her, he had told himself it would be enough, that one taste would sate the curiosity and would been since the moment she poured a dink on him at his club.

But it hadn’t. It had made things worse. He had, however, refused to give had decided not to hold back, and now that he finally satisfied his craving

at all thanks to the rage of emot

Now, he couldn’t stop imagining it—her under him again, eyes defiant and vulnerable all

She had arched into his touch like it was the only thing grounding her.

Fuck, he got hard just thinking about how she moaned his name.

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