The Billionaire's Dangerous Obsession (Nivera) novel Chapter 213

Chapter 213

Chapter 213

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The night draped itself over the city like a velvet cloak, pierced only by the faint glow of streetlights.

Inside an office tucked within one of the most discreet penthouses in the city, the air was thick with silence not peace, but a silence born of power.

A crystal glass sat untouched on the mahogany desk. The amber liquid within reflected the dim lights above, rippling as the man behind the desk swiped through the news updates on his tablet.

He didn’t need confirmation to know that Alejandro had moved. He could predict the young Garcia’s every reaction and every instinct.

“Security has been doubled around the Garcías,” a voice announced from the shadows near the door. “Extra surveillance around both the mother and the girl.”

The man’s hand stilled. He didn’t look up.

“Of course,” he murmured, his tone low, the hint of amusement curling beneath it. “He was always too predictable when it came to the people he cared about.”

He finally raised his eyes, and though his face was sculpted with calm composure, his gaze held an old, simmering fury.

Alejandro was becoming bolder – sharper, harder. That pleased him. Yet, there was something about Alejandro’s current sentimentality that irritated him. Love. Compassion.

The emotions he was never supposed to have.

“She’s healing,” the shadow by the door continued carefully. “The doctor said the wounds weren’t deep.”

—

“Find out who treated her,” he said finally, his tone deceptively calm. “And the doctor’s assistant. I want every name, every whisper, every move.”

“Yes, sir.”

There had to be a weak link among all of them.

The man leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers. Marceline knew him well enough to read between blood and bruises. She’d remember what happened when she defied him.

His gaze drifted to the window where the night city sprawled, glittering and oblivious. “Alejandro.…..” His mouth curved in a dry, cold smile. “He still believes he can shield her. How adorable.”

A pause lingered. Only the faint hum of the air conditioner filled the space.

“What about the girl?” He asked finally, his voice quiet but weighted with meaning.

The man in the shadows hesitated. “She’s… with him. He’s not letting her out of sight. We couldn’t intercept her the last time she left the penthouse — the security details were airtight.”

10:50 Tue, Oct 21

Chapter 213

The man’s jaw tightened. He had expected that. Alejandro had inherited his discipline

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and his paranoia.

“Then watch her,” The man ordered. “Every breath, every move. I want to know what she eats, what she says, who she speaks to, what she dreams of. When you focus on the big things, you often overlook the minor

ones.”

“Isn’t it time to make your appearance?” His subordinate asked.

“Not yet,” The man replied, voice chillingly calm. “Alejandro will be the last person I strike and I’ll do so after striking the rest of them…” He tapped his finger lightly against the glass on the table.

The silence after that stretched. The subordinate shifted uneasily, the weight of that unspoken threat hanging in the air.

—

The man stood then, straightening to his full height. The light caught the edges of his face time had carved sharp lines there, but his eyes still burned with the cruel, refined brilliance of a man who had once ruled empires in the dark.

He walked toward a wall of framed photos – some old, some newer. A younger Marceline smiled in one, holding baby Alejandro. Another showed the García estate, back before everything fractured. His fingers brushed the frame lightly, his expression unreadable.

“You know what the irony is?” he said, almost musing to himself. “I built an empire that spanned oceans. I broke men twice my size, destroyed families who thought themselves untouchable. But the only thing I couldn’t break…” He chuckled, low and humorless. “…was the woman who once shared my name.”

He turned sharply, his calm replaced by a flicker of venom. “Until she tried to take my son from me. Attack her once again,” Miguel Garcia ordered.

The man by the door swallowed hard. “With respect, sir, the attack- it could draw more attention. Alejandro’s people-”

The man silenced him with a single glance. “Let them look. Let them chase ghosts. I’ve been gone for years, and in that time, my son has forgotten the way I work. He’s too busy pretending to be a hero to realize he’s still standing in the middle of my chessboard.”

He paced slowly back to his desk, each movement deliberate. Then he reached into the drawer, retrieving a small silver locket. It was tarnished, old. He opened it — inside, a picture of Marceline and a younger Alejandro. For a moment, his expression faltered, just barely. Then it hardened again.

“They think love makes them strong,” he murmured. “But love only makes you vulnerable. It makes you weak. That’s why I let mine die a long time ago.”

He closed the locket and tossed it onto the desk, letting it clatter against the wood.

“Send someone to monitor the García mansion,” he instructed coldly. “And double the men shadowing my son. I want no surprises. If he starts asking the right questions, I want to know before he even finishes thinking them.”

“Yes, sir.”

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