The Billionaire’s Obsession with Green Ariza

Green demanded space. Not because she didn't love him—God, she did. But love that burned too brightly could scorch, and Joseph Leon was fire in human form. Powerful. Obsessive. Addictive.

He loved her too much. It terrified her.

"I need to breathe," she had whispered, voice trembling. "Just for a while."

So he gave her a private villa—because when Joseph Leon gave space, it came with twenty-foot glass windows, ocean views, 24-hour guards, and a rose-gold tub that looked like something out of a billionaire's daydream.

When she arrived, Green stood at the gates, stunned. The guards gave a respectful nod and opened the doors. Inside, the floors gleamed like liquid marble. A glass chandelier hung above the entryway. Tall windows framed the beach. The wind carried salt and freedom.

She wandered barefoot through the villa—her villa now—sweeping her fingers along silk drapes, oak railings, and pristine sofas.

Then, slowly, she peeled her clothes off and slid into the steaming water of the tub. It swallowed her body. She leaned back and closed her eyes. Thoughts spiraled. Guilt. Fear. Desire. And him. Always him.

Meanwhile, Joseph sat in his office,.

He should've been at a board meeting or finalizing that deal in Qatar, but instead, he was watching her.

On his laptop screen, she lay in the water just like a secret. His secret. Her head leaned against the tub's edge, steam curling around her lips. She looked peaceful.

He took a sip of his Lafite Rothschild, a wine that cost more than most people's rent. But nothing eased the ache of being away from her.

Then came a knock.

Isabel strolled in, lips red, dress tighter than necessary. "Didn't expect to find you here," she said casually, her eyes flicking to the bouquet of rare peonies on his desk. "Those for someone?"

Joseph didn't blink. "My girlfriend. The woman I'm going to marry if she lets me."

The words stabbed Isabel harder than she expected. She clasped the diamond necklace around her neck. "She's… lucky. You come with a kingdom."

Joseph leaned back in his chair. "She is my kingdom."

A beat of silence.

"Do I know her?" Isabel asked, quieter now.

"You were at the Gulf Oil Summit. Green wore a deep green dress." His eyes glazed over. "I couldn't stop looking at her."

And Isabel remembered. That woman. The kiss. His eyes—hungry and helpless. Not the kind of man in control. The kind of man completely undone.

"She's… stunning," Isabel murmured, throat tightening.

Joseph didn't respond. His gaze had drifted back to the screen. Green was out of the tub now, her skin glowing, a towel slipping off her back as she reached for her robe. His lips curved into a private smile.

Isabel cleared her throat. "I guess you're busy."

He didn't answer.

She left. The door closed with a click.

Ken walked in minutes later, placing a thick folder on the desk.

"Sir, the three-billion-dollar West Sahara deal—still pending. They're waiting on your signature."

Joseph tapped the screen, not looking up. "How much is Rolls-Royce La Rose Noire Droptail?"

Ken blinked. "Planning to add to the collection?"

"No. I'm giving it to Green. I want her to feel like royalty every time she breathes."

Ken tried to hide his surprise. "That's a $30 million car. With custom fittings? Could push to 35."

Joseph smiled faintly as he flipped to the last page of the contract. "That's not even close to what she's worth."

He signed the deal like it was nothing. Then leaned back.

"Get the car. Customize it. Champagne interior. Her name stitched on the seats."

"Yes, sir." Ken nodded, hesitating. "Anything else?"

Joseph took another sip of his wine. "Book my jet. I'm flying out tonight."

Ken raised a brow. "To her?"

Joseph's voice was low. "To the only place I belong."

As the jet engines warmed and Joseph prepared to leave, Green stood at the villa window, staring at the horizon.

She didn't know he was coming.

She didn't know the gift on its way.

—-

The jet touched down just past midnight. The villa was quiet, wrapped in moonlight and mist from the sea. Most people would call it insane to fly across a continent for a woman in the middle of the night. But Joseph Leon wasn't most people.

He wasn't sleeping. Not when she wasn't next to him.

He stepped out of the jet in tailored black, no entourage—just him and the bouquet of rare sunset roses. The guards opened the gates before he even spoke.

Green heard the footsteps before she saw him.

She rushed into the marble hallway—and then there he was.

Tall. Tired. Beautiful. Hers.

"Joseph," she breathed, crashing into him as if gravity had decided to stop pretending.

He caught her effortlessly, strong arms pulling her in. His mouth met hers in a desperate kiss—hungry, heated, full of everything unsaid. Then, with a boyish grin, he squeezed her butt firmly.

She squealed and laughed against his chest. "You're such an idiot."

"Only for you."

He kissed her again, slower this time—lips brushing lips, tongue teasing hers until she was gasping into his mouth, her arms locked tight around his neck. The world disappeared.

"I got you something," he murmured, breathless.

He gestured, and a guard approached with the bouquet.

Joseph took it and held it out. "For you. Because when I can't breathe, I think of you and somehow I can again."

"Aww," Green's voice cracked slightly, her heart too soft for words. "You're insane."

"And yours."

She brought her nose to the roses and inhaled deeply. Then they were kissing again—harder this time. Her hands in his hair. His lips on her jaw, her collarbone. Her breath catching.

When they finally pulled apart, he handed her the key fob.

She blinked. "What's this?"

"Yours."

She stared at the custom diamond-encrusted Rolls-Royce logo, her eyes wide.

"Joseph… You didn't have to. I have a whole garage of cars I haven't even touched yet. You know that."

"Take your time. I want you to feel spoiled in every lifetime."

She smiled. Rolled the keys between her fingers. "You're trouble."

"Then keep me," he said softly.

She set the flowers down and turned to him fully. Something in her chest cracked open. And that was when they collided—not just physically, but emotionally.

Words weren't enough. So her body said it. Her lips. Her heartbeat against his. She pressed into him like she was trying to remember what home felt like. And he held her like he had no intention of ever letting go.

Later, as she slept tangled in his arms, Joseph stared at the ceiling.

She was everything.

And if anyone tried to take her away again…

He'd burn down the world.