Owned By The Psychotic Billionaire (Mafia BL)

The mood around Orion’s car shifts the moment the whispers outside begin. One by one, conversations die, heads turn towards the entrance.

Even Niko stops talking. Which is damn rare.

”...Well,” he said after a beat. ”That can’t possibly be a good sign.”

”What? What’s going on?” Alexis asks in a whisper.

Two luxury cars roll through the estate gates with perfect timing, one silver and one black. The silver car comes to a smooth stop first.

Its door opens.

Lady Dimitra steps out as though she is arriving at a royal gala instead of her son’s engagement party. She is dressed entirely in white.

Not cream, not ivory, but white. Talk about upstaging the fiancé.

The fitted gown flows around her like liquid silk, the train gliding over the gravel without a wrinkle. Diamonds glitter at her throat and wrists, catching the warm light hanging from the ancient oak trees, her walking stick is a marbled white oak.

She is beautiful. She is elegant. She is also wearing the one color guaranteed to make half the guests choke on their champagne.

The whispers start immediately.

”Is she really wearing white?”

”She’s unbelievable.”

”Poor Louise.”

”Only Lady Dimitra would wear white to an engagement party and still look dignified.”

”I’d expect nothing less.”

Niko smiles eerily. ”Aunt Dimitra has chosen violence.”

Orion watched his aunt with mild interest. ”No.”

”What do you mean, no?”

”If she had chosen violence, she’d have worn a veil as well.”

”...Fair point.”

The second car stops. Its rear door opens, and Alice Dubois steps out— Adrien’s stepmother.

The Crow.

Everything about her is black— Her dress, her gloves, and even her heels.

Draped over her face is a delicate black lace veil that conceals just enough of her features to make people stare longer than they otherwise would have.

The silence in the courtyard lasts exactly three seconds, then the gossip began.

”My goodness...”

”A funeral veil?”

”At an engagement?”

”How desperate for attention can one woman be?”

”She couldn’t bear Louise being the center of attention for one evening.”

”It must be exhausting.”

”I heard she changes outfits three times for every occasion.”

”She’s always been vain.”

Alice walked past them as though she isn’t hearing a single word. Maybe she really isn’t listening, or maybe she just doesn’t care.

Lady Dimitra glances toward her, expression unreadable. Alice returns the look, face slightly hidden by the lace veil.

The two women met halfway up the stone path.

Alice greets first, following the unsaid rules of the elites. ”Lady Dimitra.”

Lady Dimitra nods at her. ”Lady Alice.”

”You wore white.”

”You wore mourning clothes.”

”I thought someone should,” Alice replies lightly.

”I assumed you were volunteering.”

Neither smiles or frowns. Their expressions remain guarded. Then, without another word, they continue toward the gardens together.

Niko watches them disappear. ”They’re either going to ruin the engagement...” He pauses. ”...or become friends.”

”Who says they aren’t already friends?” Orion murmurs.

Alexis looks horrified. He might not know the two women personally, but he isn’t blind to the lingering tension. ”Those are equally terrible possibilities.”

”I know.” Orion rests one elbow against the open window. ”Though, that veil is excessive.”

”The veil is inspired,” Niko corrects, grinning wildly.

”It looks ridiculous.”

”It looks expensive.”

”It looks desperate,” Orion sneers.

”It looks like she lost a bet,” Niko counters.

Adrien sighs. ”I can’t believe the two of you are gossiping like elderly women.”

”We’re making observations. Astute observations to be exact.” Orion a responds smugly.

”You’re judging both of them.”

”You forgot to add that we’re doing it accurately,” Orion huffs.

Niko nods. ”I’ve always believed honesty is a public service, that’s why I never lie.”

He ignores the three frankly offended looks being sent his way.

Adrien let’s put a heavy sigh. ”You people need professional help.”

”We’re rich,” Niko replies. ”Professional help needs us.”

Alexis closes his eyes. ”I miss silence.”

”Then, you’ve chosen the wrong boyfriend,” Adrien scoffs.

”I’ve realized.”

The banter drifts on for another minute, then it stops, because someone had gone quiet before the conversation had run its course.

Orion notices first. Of course he does. His attention shifts from the gardens to the man standing beside him.

Adrien isn’t looking at anyone anymore. He is staring across the courtyard. At Alice.

No, not Alice herself. At the veil.

His expression has changed, the sarcasm and the irritation gone. His face has lost what little color it normally holds, and his shoulders had become rigid.

His breathing is so shallow that Orion almost misses it.

”Adrien.”

He doesn’t answer. Wasn’t he just joking around now?

Niko follows Orion’s gaze. ”...Oh.”

Even he falls silent, but Adrien didn’t seem aware of either of them. His fingers curl into fists.

He is tense, as if he’s bracing for something. A bead of sweat rolls slowly down his temple.

The evening breeze was cool. That shouldn’t be possible. Why is he sweating?

Orion frowns.

This isn’t just ordinary fear. He’s recalling a memory. Whatever Alice represents to Adrien, it reaches far deeper than dislike.

”Duckling.”

Adrien doesn’t even blink. He’s getting nothing from him. Orion reached across and flicks him lightly on the wrist. Adrien jumps.

”What?”

”There you are.”

Adrien frowns. It’s so like the look he had on his face seconds ago, that Orion almost laughs. ”What the hell was that for?”

”You disappeared.”

”I am standing right here, Orion,” he snarls.

”You were only physically here.”

Adrien gapes at him like he’s the one who’s lost his mind. ”...You’re impossible.”

The insult comes automatically. Better. That means Adrien is thinking again.

Orion looks at him for another second. ”You’ve gone pale. What? Had a flashback?”

”I’ve always been pale,” Adrien replies, conveniently ignoring his questions.

”Not this pale. So...flashback?”

”Mind your fucking business.”

Orion ’gently’ grabs his arm and tightens his hold. ”I am. You are my business.”

Adrien winces. ”Find another hobby, asshole.”

”I’ve tried.”

”And?”

”You remain more interesting than everyone else here.”

Adrien stares at him. ”...You are aware that isn’t a flattering statement, right?.”

”It wasn’t intended to be,” he shrugs.

”Alright.”

Silence settles between them again, not awkward or even comfortable, just a painfully probing silence.

Orion keeps one eye on the gardens, and the other remained on Adrien. He notices the way Adrien kept swallowing— the way his gaze keeps drifting back towards Alice before jerking away again.

Like touching something hot.

”Hmmm...”

Orion rarely finds people difficult to read. Adrien isn’t difficult to read, he’s just difficult to understand. He simply refuses to explain himself.

Niko leans forward, amber eyes spearing through Adrien. ”I don’t suppose this is the point where you tell us what’s wrong?”