The Billionaire’s Obsession with Green Ariza

Josiah stepped cautiously into the room, the scent of iron already thick in the air. The curtains were drawn tight, cloaking the space in a dim, almost reverent gloom. It was late evening when he'd received the call—an urgent whisper from one of Fredrick's men.

Dressed in tailored designer casuals—charcoal slacks, a sleek black shirt hugging his toned frame, and a matte silver wristwatch ticking with subtle menace—he looked more like a billionaire walking into a high-stakes poker game than a man confronting death.

But the moment his eyes landed on the scene, everything shifted.

Fredrick was slumped in his wheelchair, motionless.

Blood pooled beneath him like a dark lake. His mouth was agape, red dripping from the corners. His eyes had rolled back, leaving behind a milky white stare that seemed to mock the living.

Josiah took a step back. His breath caught. Then came the heat.

He clenched his fists until his knuckles cracked, rage surging through his veins .

"This was my kill," he growled under his breath. "How dare he."

Fredrick wasn't supposed to die like this. Not yet. Josiah had planned to use him—to manipulate his influence to orchestrate Green's kidnapping, to weaken Joseph, and ultimately, to take Leon Corp for himself. And when the game was over? He would've put a bullet in Fredrick's head himself. Clean. Controlled. Strategic.

But now?

Now Joseph had moved first. And that meant the game was shifting.

Behind him, his silent escort finally spoke, cool and detached.

"What do we do with the body?"

Josiah didn't look away from the corpse.

"Wrap it up. Quiet. The media doesn't need to know that one of the wealthiest oil tycoons was murdered. If this leaks, it'll be chaos."

He took a step forward and reached into Fredrick's coat. His fingers wrapped around a ring of keys—he studied them briefly, his mind already racing with what secrets they might unlock. Then he slipped them into his pocket.

"Oh, Joseph…" he muttered. "How dare you."

He grabbed the edge of the desk to steady himself. His chest was heaving now—not from fear, but from anticipation.

Now I'll have to do the job myself.

But he wasn't stupid. He wouldn't move without leverage. And thanks to Fredrick's sudden exit, he needed a new weapon.

His fingers moved fast, dialing.

The elevator doors slid open.

"Isabel," he said the moment the line connected.

Her voice came through just like velvet dipped in venom.

"Nothing much. Just figuring out who Green Ariza really is. And I'm surprised by what I've found."

She was seated at a laptop, eyes narrowed at a media photo splashed across the screen. Green—laughing in Joseph's arms—caught mid-spin outside the most expensive mall in Mexico. The headline called her his "mystery queen."

Joseph had spoiled her rotten. Designer bags. Private jets. Lavish attention. It was enough to make anyone watching feel like an outsider.

Especially someone like Isabel.

Josiah smirked but didn't trust her. He knew why she'd agreed to be part of this game. Not out of strategy—but envy. Jealousy of Green's place in Joseph's heart. She wanted to be her.

"What did you find out about her?" he asked, already half-distracted as he slid into his sleek black car.

"Oh, many sweet little things I'll be revealing at tomorrow's board meeting," she purred. "It's time she lowers those shoulders of hers. Time everyone knew she was never meant to be part of this world. "

Josiah rolled his eyes. He hung up.

She was all talk.

He needed someone naïve. Someone easily manipulated. Someone close to Joseph—and dangerous enough to be useful.

His thumb scrolled through his contact list until it landed on a name. A smile crept to his lips.

Ariana.

His late uncle's goddaughter. The girl who'd adored Joseph since they were teenagers. The girl who hated Green without ever saying it aloud.

She was desperate enough to believe in fairy tales—and blind enough to do what he told her.

Josiah tapped the name and pressed call.

"So easy," he whispered to himself, lips curling. "So dumb."

The line connected.

"Hello?" came her soft, unsuspecting voice.

And just like that, the play began.

—-

Isabel walked into the Leon Corp boardroom with her head high and her plan sharp in her mind.

This was the moment she'd been waiting for.

She'd waited too long to watch Green Ariza parade herself beside Joseph, acting like she belonged in the same breath as legacy, power, and dynasty. But today—today was about to humble her.

The board meeting was already in full swing. A shareholder, an elegant older woman in a sleek navy gown, stood confidently at the head of the table.

"Leon Corp has secured its position as the top global exporter of clean crude," she said. "Our recent acquisition in the Gulf was a strategic masterstroke. And I must say, Joseph—" her eyes glittered, "—your leadership is something even my late husband would've admired."

Applause circled the polished mahogany table. Isabel clapped along, but her eyes never left Green.

There she was—seated beside Joseph—poised and glowing, as if she'd been born for this world. Her voice was steady, her smile effortless. The men and women around the table regarded her as more than a guest. She was Joseph's queen.

Isabel swallowed back the sharp taste in her throat.

Green's turn came, and she stood, her confidence magnetic.

"Leon Corp's commitment to environmental innovation remains my priority. We're not just leading in oil—we're investing in sustainable technology to power the future. From solar desalination partnerships in South America to new educational outreach programs in rural Africa—this company doesn't just extract energy. We create it. Ethically. Globally."

A pause. The room held its breath.

Joseph beamed. Nods followed across the board.

He leaned toward her and kissed her lightly on the cheek.

"Well said, my queen," he whispered softly, just enough for her to hear.

Green's smile widened as their eyes met—tender, certain, and only for each other.

Isabel felt like vomiting.

She couldn't sit through another second of this fairy tale.

She rose to her feet.

"My turn, isn't it?" she said smoothly, cutting through .

Joseph smile faded.

Isabel clicked the remote and pulled up her slide—a charity initiative supposedly aimed at "uplifting the poor." She glanced at Green before she spoke.

"I want to propose that Leon Corp increase its CSR efforts for disadvantaged communities," Isabel said. "After all, some of us here—" her eyes narrowed—"know exactly what that looks like, don't we?"

The room went still.

"Why not? Since Green Ariza here knows the terrain well—she was there before. Thank goodness for Joseph Leon, who cleaned her up. If not for him, she might still be that… dirty girl from the rural slums."

Gasps.

Murmurs spread like wildfire. People began exchanging looks—half curious, half horrified.

Green's eyes widened, her throat tightening. Her chest burned with humiliation. But she didn't speak. Not yet.

Isabel turned toward the board, painting on a false innocence.

"I'm only saying—we shouldn't discriminate against the poor. Look how far some can come, if you brush them up a little."

That was it.

Joseph slammed his palm against the table with a sound that silenced the room.

"Isabel !!"

The name echoed off the walls .

She froze. Everyone did.

His eyes were ice.

"You've crossed the line."

He rose slowly, his voice trembling with fury.

"You speak on behalf of your father, who is a respected shareholder. But make no mistake—you are not irreplaceable." He stepped closer, protective fire flashing in his eyes. "You've just disrespected Green Ariza, the woman I love. The woman who speaks for Leon Corp just as much as I do."

Isabel swallowed hard. The room was dead silent.

"You may inform your father that moving forward," Joseph continued, "all shareholder privileges will require his direct presence. You're no longer welcome at this table."

He turned to Green, reaching for her hand as she stood beside him, her spine straight, eyes burning—but not from tears. From pride.

"She's not the dirty girl you tried to shame," Joseph said. "She's the future of this company. And the only one I trust to help me lead it."

Silence.

Then one clap.

Then another.

The boardroom erupted in applause.

Isabel stood alone, frozen in the backlash she'd triggered.

Joseph leaned in again to Green, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

"She doesn't deserve to be in the same room as you," he whispered, "and now, she never will be again."