Owned By The Psychotic Billionaire (Mafia BL)

Chapter HUNDRED

The rain wetting the pavement reflects the harsh red and amber flashes of emergency lights in long, distorted streaks.

Smoke rises, heavy and thick, into the night air, smelling of burnt rubber, scorched metal, and fuel.

Alexis slams the brakes, bringing the SUV to a sudden, skidding stop right beside Niko’s vehicle. The tires screech against the wet asphalt. Before the engine even has a chance to idle, the rear door flies open.

Orion steps out into the ruined street.

His suit coat is gone, his crisp white shirt stained with dirt and rain, but his eyes are fixed on the twisted, burning wreck of the transport sedan sitting upside down in the ditch.

Flame licks the shattered frame. Black smoke billows up toward the dark sky.

A cold terror grips his throat, tightening with every step he takes toward the fire. The heat radiates against his skin, but Orion doesn’t flinch.

He strides straight into the smoky haze, ignoring the crackle of shattered glass beneath his shoes, his pulse hammering like a war drum in his ears.

Niko is already standing near the edge of the ditch, his face grim, a flashlight cutting through the thick smoke.

”Orion,” Niko calls out, his voice tight. ”Stop. Don’t go down there.”

Orion ignores him. He slides down the muddy embankment, his hands reaching for the crumpled metal of the passenger side door.

”Orion. You can’t go down there!”

He pulls with reckless force, the hot steel searing his palms, but he doesn’t care. He bends down, shining his own light through the shattered window, his chest heaving, his heart pounding in his throat.

The interior is empty. It’s bloody empty.

There is blood smeared across the torn fabric of the seats and dripping down the ruined headrests. There are fragments of shattered glass embedded in the leather.

But there is no body. Adrien isn’t in the car. His duckling isn’t there.

Orion stands up slowly in the rain, the muddy ground sinking beneath his shoes.

Adrien is thankfully not in the car. He isn’t dead. He wasn’t burned to ash in the explosion.

Yet, as the immediate panic fades, a much darker, wilder emotion surges up to take its place. Adrien is still missing.

He might not have perished in this wreck, but he is still very much missing.

A prominent shift occurs inside Orion’s chest. The quiet, fragile thread holding his sanity together snaps cleanly in two.

A wild, manic rage erupts through his veins like molten lava. His breathing turns shallow and ragged, his chest expanding in sharp, furious gasps.

His jaw tightens until his teeth ache, and a glare fixes on his pale face. He looks around at the burning street, the smoke, the rain, his pupils blown wide, flickering with a violent, unhinged light that threatens to consume everything around him.

He looks like a monster standing in the middle of the burning wreckage, ready to tear the city apart with his bare hands.

Then, shockingly, something strange happens.

The chaotic movement of his body suddenly stills. The hyperventilating stops. His broad shoulders drop smoothly.

A layer of cold clarity washes over his features, settling into his movements with cold precision.

Clear-headed Orion emerges.

His clear-headed, ruthless side takes control of his actions, overriding the unhinged storm brewing inside him.

Yet, despite the control over his body, his eyes do not change.

His eyes still burn with that exact same manic rage, glowing with a lethal fire under the dim streetlights. It is a frightening contrast—a man moving with surgical efficiency while his gaze promises ruin to anyone who dares stand in his way.

Orion steps out of the muddy ditch, his movements calm and deliberate. He wipes a smear of rain and soot from his cheek, his gaze fixing on the tire tracks leaving the crash site.

He snarls a single word through his bared teeth, the sound laced with pure venom.

”Masamune.”

His eyes are filled with hatred. He doesn’t need to see a business card left in the dirt. He knows the signature.

He knows the precision, the quiet hijacking of Leon’s sloppy trap, and the deliberate provocation behind it.

”Orion,” Niko says, stepping up beside him, his phone pressed to his ear. ”We need to fall back. The local authorities are heading this way, and if we stay—”

”We’re going back,” Orion cuts him off, his voice flat, low, and smooth as polished glass. The calm in his tone is far more terrifying than if he were screaming. ”Back to the church. Now.”

Alexis nods wordlessly, holding the door of the SUV open. Orion steps inside, his posture rigid, his burning eyes staring straight ahead into the dark rain.

The ride back to the engagement party is drowned in a heavy silence.

The rain hammers against the tinted windows of the luxury SUV as it glides through the dark streets of the city. Inside the cabin, no one speaks.

Alexis keeps his hands locked onto the steering wheel, his eyes darting to the rearview mirror every few seconds, catching the terrifying glow of Orion’s glare sitting in the backseat.

Niko sits in the passenger seat, his laptop open, fingers flying across the keyboard as he runs preliminary scans through their private network.

Orion doesn’t move. He sits in the dark leather seat like a stone statue, his hands resting flat on his knees. His mind is running a thousand calculations a second, stripping away useless emotion, organizing facts, and planning the punishment that will follow once he finds the men responsible.

The vehicle pulls up to the grand front entrance of the church.

The estate is under lockdown. Armed guards in tailored black suits line the stone steps, their weapons held at low ready.

All they need is Orion’s permission to shoot to act.

The bright floodlights illuminate the heavy rainfall, casting long, dark shadows across the marble floors. Inside the grand hall, the city’s elites are still being detained by Orion’s men.

None of them have been allowed to leave. The doors are guarded, the cell signals are jammed, and the atmosphere inside is thick with fear, confusion, and rising panic.

The SUV comes to a smooth halt, and Orion steps out into the rain.

He doesn’t wait for Alexis or Niko. He walks up the marble steps with purpose, his wet shirt clinging to his shoulders, his manic eyes cutting through the dark.

As he reaches the top of the stairs, a figure steps out from the sheltered archway.

It’s Louise.

Her expensive gown is slightly rumpled, her pale face tight with anxiety, her posture trembling as she looks at the armed men guarding the exits.

When she sees Orion walking up the steps, relief flickers across her features for a fraction of a second, quickly replaced by desperate confusion.

She rushes forward, stepping into his path, her hands raised slightly as if to hold him back or plead with him.

”Orion!” Louise calls out, her voice high and strained over the sound of the rain. ”What is the meaning of this? Why are your men keeping everyone trapped inside? You need to give us an explanation! My family—”

Orion does not slow down by a single second.

He does not look at her. He doesn’t even flinch. He walks past her like she isn’t even there, his shoulder brushing past hers with such cold disregard that she stumbles backward onto the wet walls.

To him, she is nothing more than a ghost, an insignificant speck of dust in a world where only one person matters.

If anything happens to Adrien, her head will go flying just as well as the others. In fact, he’s more than ready to continue the war Leon has started.

He just needs to find Adrien first.

Louise freezes, her mouth open in shock, staring after him as he pushes open the heavy oak doors of the church.

Walking past her, Niko quietly muses on her arrogance. He wonders what exactly Louise thought would happen by confronting Orion. Did she really think he would respond to her?

The grand interior of the sanctuary is bathed in soft, golden light from the massive chandeliers above, but the mood is ruined.

High-society elites, powerful executives, and wealthy family heads are clustered in anxious groups near the pews, whispering frantically while Orion’s armed guards stand guard along every wall.

The moment Orion steps into the hall, the quiet whispers die down instantly.

A heavy hush washes over the room. The sheer intensity of his presence, combined with the blood lingering on his hands and the wild fire in his eyes, causes several high-society women to step backward in fear.

Orion ignores them all. He stands near the center aisle, his posture straight, his head held high.

He barks orders at his men, his voice carrying clearly across the vaulted ceiling, ringing out like an iron bell.

”Surround the perimeter of the church,” Orion commands, his tone sharp and authoritative. ”Double the guards at every gate. No one enters, and no one leaves. If a single person moves toward an exit without my permission, break their legs...or their heads.

*******

Hello everyone,

This is our hundredth Chapter!!

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—TheLovePoet