Owned By The Psychotic Billionaire (Mafia BL)

Adrien should have known better than to expect Orion to be joking about the date—clear-headed Orion or not.

The promised suit arrives two hours before eight, not delivered by a servant or left outside his door, but brought by Niko personally.

And that transformed what honestly never really had the potential to be a simple gift into a psychological attack.

The yellow-eyed menace appeared in the doorway carrying a large black garment over one shoulder, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

Adrien takes one look at him and sighs. ”No.”

”Good afternoon to you too.” He responds cheerfully.

”Please just leave.”

”I brought your present.” He announces like a deliveryman doing his best to get a tip.

Adrien eyes the garment bag suspiciously. ”You look entirely too happy for that. Can’t you just leave?”

Niko’s smile widens. ”That’s because I know what’s inside...and I’m not leaving anytime soon.”

Adrien groans. ”Then drop it and leave.”

”I want to see you open it.”

”No.”

”Open it.”

Adrien briefly considers whether he could throw him out of the nearest window. Then he looks at Niko standing pettily at six foot three and weighing probably more than he ever would in pure muscle and sighs.

’The only reason why I won’t do it is because he’ll probably enjoy it,’ He nods to himself.

With all the enthusiasm of a condemned man walking towards the gallows, he collects the bag from Niko and unzips it. Then immediately regrets it.

Because the suit is damn beautiful. The fabric is charcoal black with subtle burgundy undertones hidden beneath the light. The tailoring screams money, every stitch precise.

A crisp white dress shirt accompanied it with a dark red tie folded neatly beside it. A tie the color of blood. Of course, it’s blood.

The second box contains polished black shoes, and the third holds a watch. Not the gaudy kind, but a simple, elegant watch.

Beneath it rests a small card with only three words written on it.

Wear this tonight.

There isn’t any signature, but there also isn’t anyone else insane enough to send him this.

Adrien stares at the card, then at Niko, then back at the card, his face kept carefully blank.

”Niko.” He whispers after staring at him for a few seconds.

”Yes?” The amber-eyed menace responds gleefully.

”I think your boss is mentally ill.”

”That observation is approximately sixteen years too late.”

Adrien’s eyes narrow. ”Why sixteen years?”

”Who knows?~ ”

”Just get out.” He scoffs.

”Wait. Aren’t you going to wear it?”

Adrien looks down at the suit again. Unfortunately, he will be wearing it, not because Orion wants him to or because a part of him might have been curious about the date.

And certainly not because being kissed by Orion earlier might have skewed his decision-making abilities in his favour.

Definitely not.

Niko takes one look at his expression and laughs.

________

An hour later, Adrien stands in front of the mirror and barely recognizes the person staring back.

The suit fit perfectly, which was deeply irritating.

As far as he knew, Orion had never taken his measurements, yet every seam stays where it should. The jacket joins the three pieces of clothing that he’s ever worn which makes his shoulders look broad.

Even the trousers fit flawlessly. The watch rests comfortably against his wrist, and the tie looks annoyingly good.

Adrien stares, then frowns. Then stares some more, and frowns harder.

A knock sounds behind him.

”Come in.”

The door opens, Niko steps inside, then stops in his tracks. For a moment, genuine surprise crosses his face.

”Huh.” He breathes.

Adrien’s eyes immediately narrow. ”What?”

Niko leans against the doorway. ”Has anyone ever told you that you clean up nicely?”

”Do me a favor and get out.”

”Wait,” he holds up a hand, ”I just realized something.”

Adrien groans. ”What?”

”Orion is going to be unbearable.”

A sense of dread settles over him immediately. ”What the hell does that mean?”

Niko gives him a cheeky wink. ”Wouldn’t you like to know, pretty boy?”

”Can’t you just explain— ”

”No.”

”Niko.”

”Nuh-uh.”

”Niko.”

The smile spreading across the menace’s face should be classified as biological warfare. It should be impossible for a smile to spread so wide.

”I’ll let you experience it yourself, puppy.”

Adrien considers murder again, and once again convinces himself that it would go nowhere.

At exactly eight o’clock, another knock echoes through the room. This time, Adrien doesn’t need to ask who it is.

The door opens and Orion stops inside. The moment he steps past the doorway, he stops moving.

For a moment, neither spoke. Adrien recognizes the look of genuine surprise on Orion’s face and suddenly regrets existing.

Orion’s gaze moves slowly from the polished shoes, to the watch, to the suit, then finally settles on Adrien.

Adrien who crosses his arms and glares at him like a pest. ”What?”

Orion blinks slowly. ”You wore it.”

Adrien stares back. ”You sent it and expected me to wear it.”

The corner of Orion’s lips twitches upward. ”You look beautiful.”

Adrien immediately wants the floor to open and swallow him whole. ”I am a man. Men do not look beautiful, therefore I do not look beautiful, Orion.”

”Well, other men can’t, but you definitely do.”

Adrien runs a hand down his face. ”Niko was right. You’re fucking unbearable.”

Orion looks entirely too pleased by that. ”I haven’t done anything...yet.”

”But if you come now with me, I promise to do a whole lot more, darling.”

Adrien just stares at him, calculations and thoughts of god-knows-what flashing through his mind, then he sighs and walks up to him.

Niko, like the menace he is, laughs himself breathless behind them.

Outside, the evening air cools Adrien’s red face.

The vehicle waiting near the entrance looks less like a car and more like something a supervillain would drive while plotting world domination.

It’s long and sleek, with a color less like red and more like the shade of rust and blood.

They slide into it without any issues— except for Orion opening the passenger’s side door for him like a gentlemen.

Adrien had to wait outside the car for two minutes to be sure he wouldn’t throw up at the gesture.

The drive to the restaurant is quiet. Orion drives calmly while Adrien takes in the lives of the people they drive past. Normal people who never have to worry about being gunned down for existing.

He watches the couples walking together, the people carrying shopping bags, and the group of friends laughing together.

Maybe if he’d gone to college, he’d have a group of friends too.

He watches them the way one would watch a scene in a movie that they know they will never be able to relate to. Interested but distant.

Eventually, Orion glances sideways. ”You’ve stopped looking like you’re preparing for your execution.”

”I’m considering my options,” Adrien responds listlessly.

”And?”

”I’ve figured that you’re not going to kill me after dressing me up to your liking...probably.”

Orion hums thoughtfully. ”Probably is good too.”

Adrien eyes him suspiciously. ”You seem unusually relaxed too.”

”I am.” He says calmly.

”Why?”

Orion’s fingers tap lazily against the steering wheel. ”Because you’re here.”

Adrien immediately looks out the window. What a bastard.

The restaurant is elegant but not overwhelming, and is built in a way that it overlooks the water. Warm lights glow behind tall windows, and soft music drifts from the inside.

People laugh quietly over dinner, whispering jokes to their partners or friends, but most importantly, the restaurant is normal.

Adrien looks at Orion. ”You didn’t buy the restaurant?”

”No.”

”Rent the entire building?”

”No.”

”Threaten anyone?”

”Not today.”

”Okay, you’re definitely lying about the last one,” Adrien grins smugly.

”Possibly,” Orion responds with a sly smirk of his own.

The hostess, upon sighting Orion, rushes to greet him. ”Good evening, Mr Orion.”

’There it is again. Shouldn’t it be Mr Vassilis?’ Adrien wonders.

She leads them to their already waiting, reserved seats with a well-practiced customer service smile. She leaves with a wad of one-hundred-dollar bills as a tip from Orion.

”Why don’t you just sit down?” Orion sighs, doing his best to ignore Adrien’s laser-like focus on his wallet.

”You’re my fiancé. You’re already entitled to my money, Duckling.”

”No delusions at the table, Orion,” Adrien tuts, shaking away his momentary greed.

Their table sits near the windows overlooking the dark sea. It’s private enough for a conversation, yet open enough that Adrien doesn’t feel trapped.

He notices immediately, feeling a sting of irritation at Orion’s attentiveness.

”Is it still a delusion when my ring is already on your finger?” He motions to Adrien’s ring finger smugly.

”It is on my finger,” Adrien nods, picking up a glass of water, ”and it can also be off my finger.”

”So, you’ll choose to lose a finger rather than wear my ring?” Orion reaches over the table and taps the rim of his glass, lowering it back to the table.

Adrien lowers the glass, staring blankly at the smug grin being sent his way. ”I never said anything about losing my finger, Orion.”

He hums thoughtfully. ”Oh. You didn’t?”

”Well, I did.”