Owned By The Psychotic Billionaire (Mafia BL)

ADRIEN’S POV

I should have known better than to expect a normal evening, not when I had already started seeing the warning signs hours ago.

The appearance of clear-headed Orion was a bloody huge warning.

First, Orion sent me a suit that probably cost more than I’ve spent on anything in my adult life. Niko had spent twenty uninterrupted minutes grinning at me after seeing me wear it, and finally, Orion had shown up looking too pleased with the fact that I’d actually listened.

Any one of those should have convinced me to stay home. I should have fucking stayed inside.

Instead, I’m currently sitting across from Orion Vassilis in an expensive restaurant overlooking the sea while trying very hard not to think about the fact that this was technically a date.

A real date. Out of nowhere.

The realization makes me want to throw myself into the ocean. Not because of the restaurant— the restaurant itself is beautiful.

Warm lights reflect off the dark water outside. Soft music drifts through the room. Couples speak quietly at nearby tables while servers move between them carrying expensive-looking meals.

The entire place feels aggressively normal, minus the meals that look like they cost as much as I do. And that is probably why Orion chose it.

I tend to notice things like that, especially when it comes to him.

The thing about Orion’s madness is that it makes people misunderstand him. Yes, you read that right.

Most people meet the manic, laughing version first. The version whose smile looks inappropriate no matter the occasion and says things that sound insane even when they somehow make sense.

The completely unhinged version.

People see that and somehow assume that the periods of clarity are somehow better. Somehow safer. But unfortunately, they aren’t, and I too learnt that from experience.

I’ve met clear-headed Orion a couple of times. The first encounter left me unable to sleep for two days, both day and night.

He didn’t threaten me or hurt anyone, but he spent forty minutes speaking to me and somehow learned more about me than the people I’ve known for years.

The fact that I spent forty minutes of my time voluntarily speaking to Orion is another problem on its own.

I still am not sure how I did it.

Lunatic Orion is dangerous because he is unpredictable, but clear-headed Orion isn’t. Every word and expression of his is chosen for a purpose.

Every question is asked because he wants something. There is always a destination and objective with this fucker.

The part that really fucks me up is that I never realize what he wants until he’s already gotten it.

His manic version feels like standing in front of a hurricane, while his clear-headed version feels like standing on a frozen lake and realizing that there is something moving beneath the ice.

Neither experience inspires confidence in either him or me, which is why I keep eyeing him suspiciously from across the table.

I won’t let this fucker get me again.

Orion sighs. ”What is the problem now, darling?”

”Nothing...” I hiss. ”And don’t call me that!”

”You’re the one who’s staring at me, darling.”

I sip my water, watching him warily over the rim of my glass. ”You’re staring at me too.”

His eyes gleam. ”But you’re my date.”

Oh look, this satanic fucker might actually have pupils.

”What does that have to do with anything?” He really has pupils. I never see them when he’s manic.

”I’d like to look at my beautiful date, darling.”

I immediately regret asking. I set my glass back on the table and level him with a glare. ”You have no right to be this insufferable.”

”You looking like that has given me the right, darling.” The timbre of his voice sends shivers down my spine.

I’m always honest, but I’m going to be honest once more and agree to the ’Orion Vassilis is objectively attractive’ propaganda.

’He could tell me to get on my knees and lick the under of his shoes clean, and I’d cum from that.’ When I was in high school, one of my classmates said this, and for some strange reason, it’s stuck with me ever since.

I would never think about licking the dirt underneath another man’s shoes, much less getting hard from that, or god forbid, cumming from that.

But what I would say is that Orion Vassilis might be...could be...may probably be...if one thinks hard about it, he could probably be described as devilishly handsome.

Though, the ’devilish’ in ’devilishly’ is less of a description and more of a character attribute.

A server arrives with our food before I can spiral down whatever hole I’ve fallen into. Silence settles between us, not the uncomfortable kind, just a calm quietness.

I find myself once again watching the people outside through the massive windows. Couples walking along the waterfront, people jumping into the ocean in their wetsuits, and a group of friends buying ice cream at a stand.

They all look very normal. I wonder what that truly feels like. The thought comes and goes before I can dwell on it.

Across from me, Orion is watching me again. I notice immediately, like always. The manic version of Orion looks at everything— the room, the staff, passing conversations, or whatever happens to catch his attention.

Clear-headed Orion is focused in a way that has cold fingers creeping down my spine. When he focuses on something, it feels less like being observed and more like being studied.

I hate it.

”Stop staring at me, asshole.”

”You have quite the potty mouth, darling.” He rolls his pasta around his fork, not looking away from me once. ”I wonder if kissing that potty mouth means I’ve eaten shit too?”

If I could choke, I would. But there’s nothing in my mouth, so I just settle for a glare which I hope communicates how much I want to see his tongue ripped from his mouth.

I kissed him. Fuck.

His lips curve into a sly smile. ”Are you blushing? Is that what turns you on? Dirty talk?”

”What a nasty little thing you are, darling.”

”Shut the fuck up, Vassilis.” This bastard always knows the things to say to make me want to off myself.

He barely allows me a moment of silence before speaking again.

Orion leans back in his chair. ”I’ve come to a conclusion.”

That statement. Does it ever lead anywhere good?

”What conclusion?”

He smiles warmly at me. It’s fucking creepy. ”That sample you gave me was insufficient.”

”What?”

”The kiss was insufficient to me.”

I stare at him, then stare some more, until I realize that this bastard is being completely serious.

”Am I some sort of scientific research?” I ask blankly.

”Of course not.” He leans forward and spears a sausage from my plate. ”I’d like something more.”

The worst part of this is that I know this fucker isn’t teasing me. There’s actual curiosity in his words. The kind of curiosity you hear in a scientist’s voice before they start the dissection.

Which isn’t reassuring in the least.

I rub my temples with a sigh. ”What do you want, Orion?”

”Didn’t you hear me? I said I wanted something more?” He chews on my sausage calmly.

”And what exactly do you want?” I scoff. ”Another kiss? You want to kiss my potty mouth again?”

”Not just that.” His presence changes as he straightens up in his seat. ”Sleep with me, Adrien.”

”I want to have sex with you.”

Jesus fucking Christ.

This isn’t manic Orion chasing whatever ridiculous impulse that appears in his brain, this is Orion too, but the clear-headed one. The one that appears when he isn’t manic.

He is the version that knows exactly what he’s doing. The version that I might be a little bit afraid of. And the fact that he’s asking, means that he’s already thought about it.

The thing is, whether it’s the manic one, or the clear-headed one, they’re still the same fucking person. Does this mean that Orion wants to fuck me?

This shit just became a problem. A bloody serious one.

Across the table, Orion watches me panic with a calm smile.

”You know,” I say eventually, ”normal people don’t command people to do things like this over dinner.”

He tilts his head slightly. ”Who said I’m commanding you? I phrased it as a question, did I not?”

I cough to clear the cobwebs in my throat. ”Yes, you did. My bad.”

My mind spirals.

The deal. Niko. Masamune. Anna. My landlords. The kind grocer. Me. Niko’s investigation. Masamune. Anna. Orion. Me. Masamune. Orion. Orion. Orion. Orion—

I sigh. ”Sure, why not?”

Orion blinks. For the first time all evening, genuine surprise crosses his face. ”Is that a yes?”

Manic Orion would have asked, ’Is that a yes, or are you trying to make me a rapist?’, but clear-headed Orion doesn’t give a shit.

He’s the one I can’t mess with.

”Mhm,” I nod, picking up my fork to dive back into my pasta. ”I’m all yours, darling.”

His eyes glimmer with a dark light. ”Then I’ll take you up on your offer.”

This fucking bastard.

He’ll take me up on my offer?

I see. All he did was ask, and I’m the one who said yes, so I’m basically offering myself. This was probably his plan from the beginning.

That’s why he didn’t ask about Anna’s death or how she was killed while being under his watch. He just didn’t care.

All he wants to do is fuck me.

Why the fuck does Orion want to sleep with me?