Owned By The Psychotic Billionaire (Mafia BL)

ADRIEN’S POV

The car turns off the main road and enters the gates of the Vasilis family estate.

Even though I have seen it before, the sheer scale of this place never fails to make my skin feel cold. We pass through three separate security checkpoints, each manned by heavily armed men in suits who scan the car before waving us through.

The main estate house looks less like a home and more like an imposing, centuries-old fortress carved out of dark marble and stone. It looms over the surrounding gardens like a sleeping beast.

My own family, the Dubois family, is considered upper-class. We have money, status, political connections, and pride.

But standing in the shadow of the Vasilis estate, I am reminded that the Dubois family’s money is like a single speck of dust compared to the mountain of gold this family sits on.

The Dubois name carries weight in high society, but the Vasilis family does not just play in society— they practically own the infrastructure of half the country.

Their influence reaches into every corner of politics and global trade. It is suffocating. A grand display of power that makes everyone outside their bloodline feel minuscule.

The car glides to a halt in front of the main entrance.

The driver rushes to open the door. Orion steps out first, straightening his cuffs, and turns around to offer me a hand.

”Need assistance, my lovely fiancé?” he asks with that irritating smile.

”I would rather crawl,” I say flatly, pushing past his outstretched hand and stepping out onto the gravel driveway myself.

Orion just laughs, stepping into stride beside me.

As we walk into the grand foyer, the tall doors swing open silently. Rows of maids and uniformed servants line the hall, bowing their heads in unison as we enter.

I feel awkward under their intense, silent scrutiny, so I take the time to offer a small, polite nod to a few of the maids near the door.

”Don’t encourage them,” Orion murmurs quietly at my shoulder. ”They are paid to bow, not to converse.”

”It is called basic human decency, Orion,” I whisper back sharply. ”You should look it up sometime.”

”Sounds like a waste of energy,” he replies cheerfully.

He strides past them like they are invisible, carrying a wide, arrogant smile on his face, his chest puffed out slightly. I can literally feel the sheer volume of bullshit he is planning to spew during this meeting radiating off his body in waves.

He is practically glowing with a raging, chaotic aura. I know for a fact that someone in this building is going to walk away with a severe headache by the time this conversation ends.

I just desperately hope it is Lady Dimitra, because I have done absolutely nothing to deserve an Orion-sized headache today.

”Where are we going?” I ask as we turn down a long corridor lined with antique oil paintings. ”Doesn’t she have a room to receive guests?”

”Not today,” Orion says, his eyes fixed ahead. ”She is in her study. She doesn’t want us to be comfortable. She thinks if she isolates us, she holds the advantage.”

”And does she?”

Orion lets out a sharp, amused bark of laughter. ”She holds nothing. She hasn’t held anything in this house since I was born.”

I keep pace a half-step behind him as we navigate the endless corridors. My mind begins to drift, and I find myself thinking about Leon.

I wonder what it is going to be like to see him again.

A spike of anger flares in my chest, hot and sharp. If I get within arm’s reach of that foolish fuck, I am going to punch him in the face at least five times.

First punch— for stopping me in the church hallway months ago just to talk his useless, pathetic bullshit.

Second punch— for telling his men to inject me so I would pass out like a helpless victim.

Third punch— for kidnapping me in the first place.

Fourth punch— for letting his stupid, amateur kidnapping plan get hijacked by Masamune like a complete novice.

And fifth punch— for the ultimate result of his foolishness, which somehow ended up tying me down to his insane cousin in marriage.

”You are breathing very loudly,” Orion remarks casually, not turning his head. ”Are you planning a murder, or are you just excited to see my dear cousin?”

”I am planning five bone fractures,” I say, my voice dripping with venom. ”All located on Leon’s face.”

Orion’s smile widens. ”Good. Don’t hold back. If you break his nose, I will buy you five hotels in Greece.”

”I don’t want a hotel in Greece, I want him to stop breathing for ten seconds!”

”I can arrange both,” Orion says easily.

The more I list Leon’s offenses in my head, the more pissed off I get. My fists clench tight at my sides, my knuckles turning white.

Now I fully understand why Orion is wearing his best shit-eating grin today. We are walking into this house to cause problems, and for the first time, I am completely on board with it. I want to be in on the destruction.

We stop in front of a pair of intricately carved doors near the end of the east wing. This is Lady Dimitra’s private study.

Orion does not knock. He never knocks. He simply grips the handle and pushes the double doors wide open.

Orion is tall and broad, and because the fucker is stepping directly through the center of the doorway, he blocks ninety percent of my field of view.

I have to lean slightly to the left, peering directly through the sliver of space underneath Orion’s right armpit just to see inside the room.

It is indeed a massive, wall-to-wall library and study. It’s decidedly ugly.

Sitting on a low armchair in the far corner of the room is Leon.

He looks up the second the doors open. His eyes widen in pure terror as his gaze lands on Orion. He actually flinches, his hands gripping the arms of his chair like he is preparing for an explosion.

Then, Leon’s eyes shift over, catching sight of me leaning around Orion’s waist.

The expression on the foolish fuck’s face turns into a bizarre, pathetic mix of immense relief and profound guilt.

”Adrien...” Leon stammers, his voice trembling. ”You... you came...”

I mentally snort to myself, my jaw tightening. Oh, look at him. He looks relieved to see me alive. He thinks his little apologies are going to fix what he did.

I am definitely going to kill him.

My attention is pulled away from Leon by a bright, flashing light on the wall to the left of Lady Dimitra’s desk.

Lady Dimitra is sitting behind her desk, perfectly poised, sipping tea from a delicate teacup. She does not even look up as we enter. Instead, her eyes are fixed on a giant, wall-mounted television screen.

Playing on the screen is the recent scandal surrounding my name.

It is right at the specific, disgusting segment where the news outlets are showing that grainy, blurred security tape of me in a room.

A wave of intense, sickening disgust washes over me.

Is this how Lady Dimitra operates? Playing my smear campaign on a giant screen right as I walk into her sanctuary, trying to break my pride before a single word is spoken?

It is petty, psychological warfare at its absolute finest, and it makes my stomach turn.

”It is quite fascinating, isn’t it?” Lady Dimitra says, her voice calm and laced with cold authority as she finally sets her cup down. ”The press is having a field day with the Dubois boy. Such a messy reputation for someone standing beside a Vassilis.”

Before the disgust in my head can even fully settle, Orion moves.

He acts so fast it is almost a blur.

In one fluid, seamless motion, Orion’s hand moves to his chest. He calmly unclips his solid gold tie clip. He simply flicks his wrist, flinging the heavy gold clip across the room with the precision of a seasoned assassin.

The golden clip flies through the air, striking the exact center of the television.

The impact shatters the glass, sending a spiderweb of violent fractures rippling across the entire screen. Sparks fly, the picture flickers violently once, and then the monitor goes black, dying into total silence.

The room plunges into a suffocating quiet.

Leon lets out a tiny, high-pitched gasp. His mouth forms a wide ”O” shape, and he flinches into his chair, almost cowering in on himself.

He clearly does not want his own head to be the next target for Orion’s flying jewelry.

Lady Dimitra’s hand freezes. Her cold, sharp eyes narrow into slits as she slowly looks up from her tea.

”Orion,” she says, her voice dropping into pure ice. ”That monitor was custom-imported.”

I stand behind Orion, letting out a small, slow nod of approval. Yeah. That is pretty much what I expected to happen.

Orion takes two slow, deliberate steps further into the middle of the luxurious study. He places his hands casually in his trouser pockets, looking down at his aunt with a sneer that makes my blood run pleasantly warm.

”Aunt,” Orion calls out, his voice smooth and dripping with venom. ”Don’t you know that it’s bad manners to gossip about your guests right in front of them?”

”He is not a guest,” Lady Dimitra replies coldly, gesturing vaguely toward me. ”He is a liability. A disgraced Dubois boy dragging his filth into this family.”

Orion’s lips curl up into the single worst, most terrifyingly arrogant grin I have ever seen in my entire life.

”Oh,” Orion snarls down at her. ”Are you not aware of what is considered bad manners anymore, you old hag?”

Lady Dimitra’s jaw tightens so hard I hear the faint click of her teeth. On his chair, Leon lets out a soft whimpering noise, curling his fingers tightly into the armrests.

I look up at the painted ceiling for a brief second. Then, I look down at my own left hand, staring at the sleek, solid platinum wedding ring sitting firmly on my ring finger.

A slow, wide, shit-eating grin curls onto my own lips.

Well, I think to myself, it looks like there is a whole lot of shit to be eaten today.

And for once, I am going to enjoy every single bite.