The Billionaire's Dangerous Obsession (Nivera) novel Chapter 143

Chapter 143

Chapter 143

66%

Alejandro’s office was quiet, the low hum of the city beyond his window and the air conditioner serving as the only background

noise.

Papers were spread across his desk, reports that needed his attention. Contracts that needed signing.

All thanks to not being able to focus the previous day, he had a lot of boring paperwork to do.

His mind unconsciously took him to the woman he had been pushing out of his mind since he left the mansion.

He gritted his teeth, forcing his eyes back to the paper before him.

Some time passed and his phone buzzed with an alert. He didn’t bother looking at it at first, as he was too deep in contracts and figures.

38

But when the second buzz followed–short, urgent, like a knife against his patience–he reached for it just as he received a call from the same person who had texted.

“Sir,” Martins started after his answered the call. “You’re not going to like this.”

Alejandro’s head lifted and he squinted his eyes wondering what Alejandro was taken about. “What?!” The word was sharp, a

command.

“It’s Nivera. She had lunch today. With Damon.”

The pen in Alejandro’s hand snapped in two and ink bled across his fingers, staining the papers.

For a long moment, he said nothing. The rage that surged through him was too sudden, too consuming to put into words. His pulse thundered in his ears, his jaw tightening until the muscles ached.

The image slammed into his mind uninvited: Nivera across the table, her soft laugh, her lips curved in that tender way she reserved for people who made her feel seen.

Damon leaning in, drinking her in, saying whatever pathetic, sugary things men like him said to women like her.

“Where?” he asked finally, his voice low, dangerous.

“Small café. Off the main street. Discreet. They were there for a while.”

Alejandro leaned back in his chair, exhaling a slow, measured breath. On the outside, he was calm. On the inside, he was burning.

Lunch with Damon.

Damon had always been a parasite, waiting for an opening. And Nivera–sweet, foolish Nivera–had given him one.

She wouldn’t- His mind shut down the thought of defending her before it could form. It didn’t matter. It couldn’t matter.

It wasn’t jealousy. He refused to call it that.

No–this was about optics. About respect and about what it would mean if someone, anyone, had seen them.

If a netizen with a camera phone had snapped a picture and posted it online. The headlines would write themselves, and the fallout would be chaos.

1/4

His name, dragged into some trivial scandal because she couldn’t control herself.

That was why he was angry. That was the only reason.

He repeated it again, like a mantra.

It wasn’t because he cared, not because the thought of Damon sitting across from her, making her laugh, looking at her the way Alejandro himself did in his weakest moments, made his blood boil.

No. It was principle, image and control.

Still, the fury was suffocating. He needed somewhere to put it, something to bleed it out of him before it consumed him.

And then the answer came, sharp and satisfying.

“Martin,” he said, his voice clipped. “Where is Silas Monroe right now?”

There was a pause on the line. “Silas? Why?”

“Find him.” Alejandro didn’t bother with explanations. He didn’t owe Martins one.

A few moments later, the answer came. “He’s at his office.”

Perfect.

Alejandro rose from his chair, shrugging into his jacket. “Send me the details. Don’t follow.”

“Yes, boss,” Martins responded and Alejandro hung up.

The underground parking lot was dim, the fluorescent lights above flickering in lazy intervals.

Rows of expensive cars sat in silence, their sleek bodies reflecting the caliber of men who came there.

And would you look at that?! His luck seemed to decide to smile down at him as the man who he was intending to go up to see, was already down.

Silas Monroe leaned against his own vehicle, scrolling lazily through his phone, He didn’t look up when Alejandro’s footsteps echoed across the concrete.

“Silas,” Alejandro called, his voice carrying easily.

Silas’s head jerked up, surprise flashing before narrowing into irritation. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Alejandro didn’t answer. He walked forward, steady, controlled. His rage simmered beneath the surface, channeled now into movement, into purpose.

“I don’t recall being scheduled to meet you,” Silas muttered, straightening “If this is about

Alejandro cut him off with a fist.

The punch landed square across Silas’s jaw, the impact cracking through the still air. He stumbled back, swearing, his phone clattering to the floor.

2/4

10:11 Sun, 24 Aug D

Chapter 143

“You bastard-” He swung wildly in return, and for a moment the two men collided in a tangle of fists and grunts.

But Silas was no match. He was strong, yes, but untrained, his strikes were sloppy and desperate.

00%

+38)

Alejandro absorbed them, countered with ruthless precision, each blow deliberate. A fist to the ribs. An elbow to the temple. A knee driven mercilessly into his side.

Silas fought back, but it was a losing battle. Within minutes, he was bloodied, panting, his back pressed against the cold metal of his car as Alejandro loomed over him.

“Still standing?” Alejandro asked, voice low, taunting. “Not bad. But you’re finished.”

Verify captcha to read the contentVerify