The Billionaire’s Obsession with Green Ariza

The funeral of Leon Cain — oil tycoon, media giant, and once the richest man on the Western side of the hemisphere — was held at a grand cathedral in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico. A resting place fit for a king. Even with private security flanking every possible corner, the press couldn't be kept away. They hovered , cameras flashing from behind blacked-out vans and trees.

It wasn't just a funeral. It was a statement. The fall of an empire.

Inside the cathedral, the air hung heavy with incense and mourning. The dark wooden pews were packed with family, foreign diplomats, power brokers, and media tycoons who had once dined with Leon. Oil barons. Politicians. Rivals. And enemies pretending to mourn.

When Joseph Leon stepped through the cathedral doors, holding Green's hand like his life depended on it, heads turned. Conversations hushed. Every camera lens strained to capture the sight of the empire's heir.

He was dressed in a perfectly tailored charcoal-black suit. Beside him, Green wore a sleek, black straight gown — no makeup, just her hair pulled back. She didn't need embellishment. She looked untouchable.

They had kissed just before the ride. He had pulled her close, burying his face in her neck as if her warmth could hold back the grief. She had run her fingers through his hair, whispering, "I'm here. I'm not leaving."

He'd held her tighter then — as if the world would rip her away.

Inside the cathedral, they were ushered to the family pew. An older, elegant woman in dark blue lace — Ms. Marvel, Joseph's estranged mother — turned to watch them. She hadn't seen her son in six years. Not since she'd left for the Dominican Republic with her new husband — a man now behind bars for international drug trafficking.

A thin-lipped relative whispered to her, "Your son looks just like Leon."

Ms. Marvel blinked slowly. "He has his fire," she replied. "But a different kind of darkness."

Green noticed the woman staring. Joseph leaned down and murmured, "My mother. Try not to let her rattle you."

When they reached her, Joseph took Green's hand and said, "Mom, this is Green — the only reason I'm breathing."

Ms. Marvel studied Green in silence… then smiled faintly and extended her hand.

"You're braver than you look," she said, shaking Green's hand. "He was always a storm. I hope you're the one who can survive him."

Green smiled back softly. "I intend to."

They sat. The service began.

The golden casket glowed under the cathedral lights. As the line to view Leon's body began, guests moved one by one. Whispers continued to swirl.

A few seats away, Josiah stood beside a pair of aging diplomats. He was dressed immaculately in navy, his hands clasped like a saint, eyes shadowed with calculation. He was the son of Leon's adopted younger brother — the one now institutionalized after a drug-induced breakdown.

Josiah's stare drifted to Joseph. There was no grief in his face — only resentment.

Green watched Joseph's hand clench tighter on the pew.

"I never trust him," she whispered.

"You shouldn't," Joseph replied under his breath. "He wants everything. And he doesn't want to earn it."

The line shifted. Joseph stepped up with Green to view the casket.

Leon lay still, dignified, powerful even in death. A king undone by a bullet.

Joseph's jaw tensed. He said nothing, but Green felt it — the oath building behind his silence. A heaviness forming behind his eyes.

Outside the cathedral, the crowd thickened. Reporters stood behind barriers. Joseph barely glanced at them. His hand never left Green's waist.

Josiah approached.

"A sad loss indeed," he said, his voice smooth. "Leon was a great man."

Joseph didn't blink. "You say that like you didn't help put him in the ground."

Josiah's smile twitched. "I heard you fired Zack. Hired a new lawyer. Bold move."

Joseph's expression didn't change. "You should've told your dog to cover his tracks better."

Green stood firm beside him. Josiah looked at her for one beat too long.

"I'll leave you two, then," he said, slipping his hand into his pocket. "For now."

He turned and walked away, but his jaw was tight. Fury simmering. Joseph watched him go, jaw clenched.

"Why do I think he's planning something," Green said.

"I know he is."

They watched Josiah disappear through the archway.

Later that evening, the family was invited back to Leon's private estate overlooking the hills — for a final gathering.

—

The Leon's estate felt less like a place of mourning and more like a chessboard. People moved in calculated steps, whispering behind crystal glasses, hugging with smiles that didn't reach their eyes.

Ariana arrived just past four. Her sleek black dress contrasted with the softness of her expression. A gentle grace radiated from her — a kind of quiet dignity reserved for those who'd learned how to survive loss without making it loud.

Ariana walked straight into the lounge where Leon's sisters sat.

She hugged each one tenderly, pausing especially at Leon's eldest sister, who wept uncontrollably. The woman clutched Ariana like her own daughter.

"My brother didn't deserve this," she whispered hoarsely. "And whoever did it won't sleep well. We will know. You'll see."

Joseph stepped over quietly and hugged her, murmuring his agreement. She kissed his forehead and walked away to sit with the others.

That's when Ariana turned to him.

Her breath caught in her throat the second their eyes met.

Joseph. The same boy who used to tease her in the garden. Who once protected her from a dog bite. Who never noticed that she'd always noticed him.

Now taller, colder, heavier with the grief of a man who had buried his father and inherited an empire that might destroy him.

"Joseph…" she whispered, her voice catching. "I'm sorry I missed the burial. I missed my flight. I—"

He didn't say anything, just nodded, and hugged her lightly. Her heart pressed against his chest, aching for a different version of this reality.

"I still remember what he said," she whispered, holding onto him longer than she should've. "That you'd make a better king than a soldier."

He pulled back slightly and looked at her kindly.

"You'll always be family, Ari," he said softly. "But that's all."

She blinked fast — once, twice — and nodded before her lip trembled and she turned quickly away.

What she didn't see was Green, standing halfway down the stairs, watching everything.

Green had excused herself ten minutes earlier to use the restroom in Joseph's childhood room. He had kissed her forehead and told her to take her time.

But she had come down just in time to see another woman kiss her boyfriend on the cheek.

She stepped down, silent but steady. Joseph spotted her immediately and held out a hand. His other hand slipped around her waist instinctively.

"That was…?"

He smiled gently. "Ariana. My father's goddaughter."

Green remembered now — the girl at the gala holding Joseph… making headlines. The one whose brother had been assasinated. She stared after her retreating form, then turned to him.

"Well, I don't like how she kissed your cheek," she said bluntly, lips set.

Joseph looked into her eyes and smiled — that kind of crooked grin that made her knees wobble.

"She kissed me goodbye, Green."

"I know," she said. "Still didn't like it."

He leaned in, his mouth brushing her ear. "I barely felt it. The only kiss that leaves a mark is yours."

She blinked, then narrowed her eyes. "You smooth-talking devil."

"Guilty," he whispered, before capturing her lips in a kiss that left no doubts.

"Just avoid her," she murmured afterward.

He traced her jaw with his thumb, then tucked her hair behind her ear.

"Yes, my love," he said. "I'll avoid the world if it keeps me in your arms."

From across the room, Josiah stood, sipping from a glass of aged wine. He didn't blink. He didn't smile.

But he watched.

Watched Green. Watched Joseph.

He tilted his glass slightly and muttered to himself.

"Soon."