Owned By The Psychotic Billionaire (Mafia BL)

The room becomes impossibly quiet. The weight of the silence settling over Don Antonio’s shoulders like a giant mountain.

The Don cannot remember the last time he sat in a silence that felt this heavy.

Across from him, Niko sits comfortably on the sofa with Alexis kneeling between his legs as if they aren’t discussing the possibility that Antonio’s younger brother had been sexually involved with children.

And possibly trafficked them too.

As if there isn’t a monster currently making his way towards his office.

Antonio finally understands why people fear the Basilisk and his inner circle. Cruelty is common in their line of work, so they aren’t feared because they’re cruel, but because of how casual they are with their cruelty.

The underworld is full of madmen and sycophants, but the Basilisk’s inner circle is filled with pure lunatics.

”Are you certain?” Antonio asks, grasping at straws.

Niko glances up, eyes gleaming with dark amusement. ”About what, Old Man?”

”My brother.”

The Wildcat’s smile doesn’t disappear. It simply morphs into something colder and sharper. Something that sends shivers down the Don’s spine.

”I’m dangerously certain,” he purrs.

Antonio exhales slowly. His younger brother had always been a troublesome thorn in his side. An ambitious, greedy, and reckless splinter under his fingernail.

But child trafficking? No, surely not.

Yet, Niko doesn’t strike him as someone who would like about something like this. Not because he possesses any morals, but because an entity like the Basilisk doesn’t need a reason to attack Antonio’s empire.

If the Basilisk involves himself in anything, then it’s already going to go his way.

A knock interrupts his thoughts.

Antonio immediately looks towards the door. The Wildcat’s smile widens. One of his captains enters the room. The man’s expression is wrong.

Antonio has spent decades reading faces so he instinctively knows the man isn’t concerned or nervous. He’s afraid.

”B-boss.” Even his voice is trembling.

”What happened?” Antonio asks, already knowing that the answer would be anything but good, but he refuses to falter before the Wildcat.

”Both the eastern and the w-western security teams have stopped responding.”

Antonio frowns. ”How long has it been?”

”Three minutes.”

That’s almost thirty armed men gone in a span of three minutes. A bead of sweat rolls down Antonio’s forehead.

”He’s making good time,” Niko remarks offhandedly, sparing a glance at his wristwatch.

The captain visibly pales. Antonio notices and so does Niko. His frown deepens but Niko’s widens.

”Find them.” He orders coldly.

The captain nods and sprints out the door without looking back, leaving the office in a state of silence again. The Don watches as Niko lazily runs his fingers through Alexis’s hair.

The younger man remains perfectly still, even he can feel the pressure of the unease mounting in the room. The realization would be amusing if Antonio weren’t beginning to feel the same.

Because the Basilisk hadn’t even arrived yet, but the building already felt strange. Like a villa that had become a house of horrors.

A second knock comes less than two minutes later. Another captain enters, face paler than the last. Antonio’s stomach sinks.

”The surveillance room is offline, Sir.”

”What?”

”None of our cameras are online.”

”Is it a technical issue?” The sheer disbelief in his voice makes the captain hesitate for a moment.

”No, Sir.”

Antonio’s jaw tightens. ”No?”

The man swallows heavily. ”The room was cleared, Sir”.

Antonio stares blankly at him. ”What the hell does that even mean?”

The captain falters again, struggling to answer correctly. ”I mean that everyone who was inside that room is now dead, Sir.”

The room goes still. Even Niko stops petting Alexis for a minute. Only for a minute. Then, he relaxes again.

”That’s definitely him,” he shrugs.

Antonio’s blood pressure spikes. ”How many men died in that room?”

”Twelve, Sir.”

Twelve men dead. Twelve men died without a single alarm reaching him. Without a single warning.

Antonio has spent decades building his organization, yet, someone is dismantling it piece by piece while casually walking through the front door.

”Get every available soldier moving,” he commands. ”Intercept him and cut him down where he stands.”

”Already done, Sir.”

”Then why are you still standing here?”

The captain leaves immediately, unwilling to deal with the growing chill in Antonio’s gaze.

Antonio turns towards Niko who looks like a man watching an entertaining movie. He looks genuinely entertained.

”Do you enjoy this?”

”I’m still not sure where I stand on this, but for now I’d say I’m enjoying this...immensely.”

Antonio closes his eyes, willing his blood pressure to lower. Of course, he’s enjoying this. It would be weirder if he weren’t.

A distant gunshot echoes through the building. Then another. Then three more. The gunshots are loud enough to be heard.

Every shot serves to spike the Don’s blood pressure.

Niko tilts his head, listening curiously like a cat. ”West corridor,” he says.

Antonio freezes. ”What?”

”The shooting,” Niko shrugs. ”It’s at the West corridor.”

A radio crackles on Antonio’s desk. The sound of static fills the room, then a panicked voice echoes through the room.

”Contact! Contact! Help— ”

Sounds of gunfire erupt through the speaker. Then screams and shouts...then nothing. Just pure static.

Antonio stares blankly at the radio. Nobody speaks, because no one needs to. They all heard it. The captain hadn’t been calling for reinforcements.

He’d been calling for mercy.

Antonio feels something unfamiliar creeping into his chest. Not fear, not yet. But concern, real concern.

Because twenty-six men should have slowed anyone down. Instead, Orion seems to be moving faster. It’s as if he’s ploughing through his men faster than he can send them.

The silence in the office grates on his nerves. Niko checks his watch again, drawing his eyes to his relaxed form.

”How long?” He asks quietly.

Niko looks up. ”Hm? Did you say something, Old Man?”

”How long until he gets here?”

The Wildcat’s smile deepens into something mockingly predatory. ”That depends~”

”On what?”

”How entertaining your men are.”

Antonio glares at him. A glare burning with the intensity of his hatred and resentment. Niko merely laughs.

Then another gunshot echoes through the building. Closer this time. Much closer. Antonio hears it, and so does everyone.

Alexis shifts uneasily on his knees. Niko’s hand immediately tightens in his hair as a warning. The younger man freezes and doesn’t move again.

The Wildcat’s attention returns to Antonio.

”You know,” he says casually, ”most people misunderstand Orion.”

Antonio says nothing. He waits for him to continue speaking.

”They think he enjoys killing.” Niko chuckles.

”Doesn’t he?”

”No.” The answer comes instantly, without any doubt or hesitation.

Antonio’s features change into a frown.

Niko’s smile fades slightly. ”He just enjoys finishing things completely.”

A chill that has nothing to do with the air conditioning runs through Antonio. Niko’s statement feels far more disturbing than a simple admission to bloodlust.

Because bloodlust is driven by emotions. It is more personal and human, but finishing things sounds mechanical.

Like completing a task or crossing an item off a list. It makes him wonder what Orion Vassilis sees humans as. Tasks or people?.

Antonio decides that he doesn’t want to know the answer to that question.

Static crackles as a voice speaks over the radio, echoing across the room.

”The second floor is gone, Sir. No one’s responding.”

Antonio blinks, then slowly, his shoulders slump in his seat. In less than fifteen minutes, over fifty of his men dead. The office feels smaller, and the air feels thinner.

”What about the assassins?” He asks, still clinging to a little bit of hope.

”They’re...gone.”

A family’s assassins are their secrets. Their locations are secret and so is their existence, yet Orion found them.

Niko starts laughing.

”He already knew where they were,” Antonio murmurs, looking like he’s aged ten years in the past fifteen minutes.

Niko wipes a tear from his eye. ”Of course he did.”

The old Don suddenly feels very tired, because he finally understands something. Something he had somehow overlooked. The game was never intended to be fair.

The Basilisk wasn’t invading, he was carrying out an execution. The Don wasn’t a player, he was a pig to be slaughtered.

Antonio wishes he had killed his good-for-nothing brother when he had the chance.

A gunshot rings across the radio, the static crackles for the last time, then it’s silent. Painfully silent.

Then suddenly, another knock echoes through the study.

Except Niko, everyone jumps, even Antonio. The shame burns through him like a match to gasoline.

”Enter,” he calls out, voice tinged with a heavy sigh.

There’s no one left in the building, he already knows this, and he knows who exactly is mocking him by knocking on his door.

Alexis goes pale. He trembles under Niko’s hand like a foal.

Niko grins.

The door handle turns slowly, then opens. A figure stands in the doorway, flanked by no one. He’s alone. Just one man stepping on the corpses of over sixty men.

The Basilsik.

For a moment, nobody moves, not even to breathe. The hallway behind him is quiet. Hauntingly quiet. Then, Orion steps inside.

And closes the door behind him.