The Billionaire’s Obsession with Green Ariza

Green gently blew over Joseph's bruised knuckles as they got ready to leave the company.

He watched her.

"It's nothing," he said, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "They won't air it. Even they're afraid."

Green gave him a pointed look. "You punched Josiah in the face."

He smirked. "He deserved worse."

As she smiled, he took a business call about the billion-dollar oil deal he was closing with GulfStar Energy. Another call came through—Ken had connected him with a contact linked to his late father's lawyer.

Joseph's gaze darkened. He listened quietly, his face was a mask of calm. Josiah was indeed conspiring with the family lawyer—selling out internal secrets, delaying the will's execution. Joseph pretended not to know as he arranged a meeting with the lawyer, already relishing the moment he'd destroy him. The man earned millions weekly. Firing him would be a devastating blow.

Joseph closed the call and turned to Green. "Lunch at your favorite place. Like always."

He helped tie her hair into a ponytail, his lips brushing her neck afterward. She giggled and turned, kissing him fully.

"I love you," he said, entwining their fingers as they walked out. "Always."

They stepped into the elevator, then down the hall, when someone called out:

"Amaya."

Green stopped. The name hit her .. Her old name. Her hidden life.

She froze.

It dragged her back to a different world—a forgotten corner of rural Mexico.

She was fifteen. The cold pavement. Her torn dress. Rain mixing with blood.

She never told anyone. Except Joseph. He held her then. He listened, wiped her tears, kissed her scars, and told her she was safe.

Even her mother didn't know.

She remembered the first time she met him. How she fell into his arms outside a street vendor's shack, hungry, messy-haired. He didn't flinch. He just… looked into her eyes.

He followed her home. Eleven days of knocking. She slammed the door every time—until the twelfth day when she let him in. That same night, he showed her a mansion so beautiful it made her cry. He placed the keys to a luxury car in her hands. Took her around the world. Changed her life.

And now—someone from that hidden world was standing before her.

A man in uniform. Cleaner, maybe. Blonde-haired. Rough hands needing a manicure. He looked at her with awe.

"Green… Amaya… I finally found you. You look so different. So beautiful."

It was Johnson. Her childhood friend. From hawking fish on the streets to selling steaks. Her closest companion—until he vanished.

Joseph stepped in instantly, placing a hand in front of Johnson's extended arm.

Johnson froze, then quickly bowed. "My apologies, sir. I didn't mean to—"

"Nice to meet you, Johnson," Green finally said, her voice calm but distant.

"Bless today," he muttered.

Just then, a female supervisor in her forties stepped over. "Johnson, the guest toilet's leaking. Move, now."

He nodded and left quickly.

Joseph wrapped his arm around Green as they resumed walking. "Are you okay?"

She nodded slowly, her heart still thumping.

Minutes later, they were seated at her favorite restaurant. Crystal glasses. Polished wood. Soft jazz in the background. Joseph ordered whatever she had. They shared champagne, laughter, and soft touches across the table.

But halfway through the meal, Green rose suddenly.

She went to the bathroom, her stomach tight. At the mirror, she gripped the sink.

A wave of nausea. Her hands trembled. And then it hit her.

Could I be pregnant?

She touched her stomach.

A soft, weak smile crept onto her face.

Twenty minutes later, Joseph looked up from his phone as she returned. He stood, instantly alert.

"You okay?" he asked, brushing her cheek gently.

She hesitated. "I… I think I'm pregnant."

The restaurant seemed to fade behind him. Joseph blinked. For the first time, something flickered in his usually unshakable eyes.

He walked around the table, knelt beside her in front of the world, and placed his hands gently over her stomach.

"You're carrying my child," he whispered, as if in awe.

Green nodded slowly. He kissed her stomach. Then her hand.

And held it like he would never let go.

—-

Green stood in the bathroom, gripping the white plastic stick as if it might change its answer. One line. Again. She stared into the mirror, her reflection emotionless, eyes tired.

Three tests.

All negative.

She exhaled slowly, dropped the test into the bin, and ran her fingers through her hair. A strange cocktail of emotions swirled inside her—relief, sadness, guilt, something unnamed.

Slipping out of the bathroom, she padded barefoot into Joseph's bedroom, the moonlight slicing through the blinds in soft streaks. He wasn't there.

She found him in the living room, his laptop open on his thighs, reading over a document with furrowed brows. His glasses rested low on the bridge of his nose. He looked so beautiful, so composed—like nothing could ever rattle him.

She sat beside him in a casual silk dress, her legs bare and curled under her. She leaned into him without saying a word.

Joseph looked over, instantly catching the heaviness in her expression. He closed the laptop and set it aside. "Why do you look bothered?" he asked softly, reaching for her hand and pressing a kiss to her knuckles.

Then his hand slid down her thigh, fingers wrapping possessively around it.

Green hesitated, then gave him a small smile—one that didn't reach her eyes.

"I'm not pregnant," she said. "I took the test. Three times." Her voice cracked slightly, despite her trying to keep it light. "All negative."

She watched him closely, saw the flicker of disappointment in his face, even as he tried to mask it.

Joseph leaned in and gently held her chin between his fingers, tilting her face toward his. His voice was soft, warm, sure.

"If you were carrying my child… I'd burn the world just to keep you safe. But even now, with just you— I already have everything."

He opened his arms. "Come here."

She melted into his embrace, curling against his chest as he ran his fingers through her hair.

"You don't need to carry anything for me to love you more," he whispered into her hair. "You already gave me a reason to live."

They sat like that for a long time. The world outside could have ended, and they wouldn't have noticed.

Then the phone rang. Joseph reached across and picked it up.

"Ken," he answered.

Ken's voice came through, urgent.

"We may need to move up the meeting with your father's lawyer. He's scheduled to meet Josiah tonight—private lounge at the Elorian Tower."

Joseph's eyes sharpened instantly. "He's choosing sides."

Ken sighed. "He no longer deserves the position he's in."

Joseph clenched his jaw. "Then I'll take it from him myself."

He ended the call and looked down at Green in his arms, still curled against him. "No matter what happens," he said quietly, "you're mine. In every way that matters."

And in that moment, even with a war building behind the scenes, Green felt safe.

But the night wasn't done with them yet.