The Billionaire’s Obsession with Green Ariza

Josiah stood between two officers in the elevator when, without warning, the one on his left drew a gun—not at him, but at the other officer.

The real officer froze, raising his hands. Josiah arched a brow, impressed.

"Well," he murmured, flexing his wrists as the imposter quickly uncuffed him. "For a moment, I thought I was actually going to jail. That would've bruised my image."

The fake officer swiftly snapped the cuffs onto the real cop and yanked away his gun. Josiah dusted off his sleeves as the elevator changed direction, heading to a hidden underground exit.

"Don Frederick's assistant has been apprehended," the man said as they exited into a private garage and crossed to a sleek, black-tinted car, dodging the blinking red and blue lights of arriving patrols. "He was the reason you were nearly arrested."

The imposter changed into a black jacket and pants, then slid into the driver's seat. Josiah, sliding into the back, clicked his tongue and glared out the tinted window.

"Stupid Joseph," he spat. "You think you've won? This was just the beginning."

The car pulled into traffic, disappearing into the city's veins. Heading to a private estate.

—

Josiah tossed his blazer over a chair and loosened his collar. The estate was quiet, perched above the city like a king's lair—private, armored, luxurious.

His driver stood nearby, He handed Josiah a fresh drink.

"We need to move on Leon Corp quickly if you want it," the man said. "Green's pitch tomorrow… Even Isabel's starting to slip."

Josiah took a long sip. "She's useful for now," he said coolly. "She wouldn't dare play both sides."

The driver hesitated. "What about Don Frederick's assistant?"

"A pity," Josiah muttered, swirling the drink. "We lost a piece before the game even started. We need to tighten control."

He picked up his phone and dialed.

INT. DON FREDERICK'S OFFICE – NIGHT

Frederick sat in a darkened office, flanked by shadow. His wheelchair faced the window, overlooking the city like it was prey.

His phone vibrated. He answered without turning.

"Josiah."

"Don. Your assistant slipped."

"I heard."

"He's in their hands. Joseph won't be gentle."

Frederick's voice hardened. "That man held too many cards. I'll send someone to clean it up."

"Good," Josiah said. "We can't afford leaks."

—

Joseph stepped out of the penthouse building just as Ken's call came in.

"They're out. The second officer was a plant," Ken reported.

Joseph didn't flinch. He'd suspected this outcome. "He's escaped," he told the officer standing nearby. "Find him. Now."

The officer nodded and moved immediately.

Joseph turned back to the call. "Where's Frederick's assistant?"

Ken tilted his camera to the man sitting on the floor, calmly chewing a piece of bread, his wrists bruised from the cuffs.

"Having dinner," Ken said dryly.

Joseph's eyes darkened. "I want to speak with him.."

—-

The LeonCorp boardroom was just like a battlefield dressed in polished chrome and glass.

Green stood at the head of the long table, her back straight, heels rooted. Her red dress was corporate—but daring. Clean lines, short hem. Her ponytail was tight, her lips bold. Every inch of her said: I belong here.

Joseph wasn't by her side.

He was supposed to be. He promised.

But now, all eyes were on her alone.

Isabel sat across the table, arms crossed, nails tapping the wood. Her frown deepened with every word Green spoke. She hated how Green lit up the room. Hated how the men leaned in, listening. Hated that Joseph's chair sat empty beside her—but everyone still looked at her like she was his queen.

Green clicked the remote and brought up the final slide of her strategy.

"We position LeonCorp's clean energy portfolio to undercut competitors in the Mexico and Singaporean markets by 12%. Our investment in green shipping corridors makes us eligible for the Pacific Alliance's eco-subsidies. In three quarters, our dominance isn't a possibility—it's inevitable."

Silence.

Then applause. Several board members nodded in satisfaction. One whispered, "She's good."

Green allowed herself a breath.

But as she exited the boardroom, she

collided with a wheelchair.

It was Don Fredrick.

She froze. What was he doing in LeonCorp's building?

"Surprised?" he asked, his tone smooth.

"What are you doing here?" Her voice was cautious. She looked at the wheelchair in disbelief but didn't ask how.

"I asked to speak to Joseph. Apparently he's… occupied." He tilted his head. "But I wouldn't mind speaking to you instead."

She hesitated, then agreed.

They walked into one of the side lounges—unaware the cameras were still recording.

Lounge – LeonCorp HQ

Fredrick rested his hands on the arms of the chair. "Your pitch was impressive. You've always had a mind for power."

She narrowed her eyes. "You're trespassing."

"I'm a shareholder in three companies that partner with LeonCorp," he replied easily. "Technically, I was invited."

He leaned closer. "Why stay under Joseph's shadow? He doesn't deserve you. Come work with me."

Green laughed once, humorless. "And be used by you instead?"

"I'd pay you double," he said. "And you'd never be a pawn again."

She stood, fire rising in her eyes. "You're not half the man he is."

She walked out.

But the camera had already caught it—the moment, the angle, the implication.

Elsewhere – Joseph

Joseph stood in the security room, the feed from the lounge frozen on Green sitting beside Frederick.

Ken stood behind him, silent.

Joseph didn't speak. His jaw clenched. His fingers flexed like he wanted to crush the screen.

"Not again," he muttered, bitterness curling in his throat.

He had just finished interrogating Frederick's assistant—finally confirming the Eclipse House was a front funded by Josiah, a place used to stash leverage, not just enemies.

Green had barely escaped that fate. And now she was alone…with him.

Later – The Penthouse

She rushed to meet him the moment he came home.

"I didn't know he would be there," Green said, breathless. "He approached me. I didn't even stay five minutes—"

He shut the door behind him.

Calm. Too calm.

His eyes didn't blink. Didn't smile. They just watched her.

He stepped closer, slow and quiet.

She felt his heat before he touched her—but he didn't. He just leaned in.

"Next time," Joseph said coldly, "you want to flirt with my enemies, at least don't do it in my building."

Her breath caught.

He turned away before she could reply.

But behind those cold eyes, behind the rage he buried—was the storm.

Because Joseph didn't want anyone near her.

She belonged to him.

And he was about to prove it.