Owned By The Psychotic Billionaire (Mafia BL)

LOUISE’S POV

Silence follows. Then the guard speaks again, this time in a lower voice.

”Keep everyone in position. Nobody leaves until we know whether they have another team nearby.”

The radio clicks off.

I remain on the edge of the bed. For a few seconds, I hear nothing except the air conditioner.

Then another guard speaks from farther down the hallway.

”What happened?”

”Masamune hit the lake house.”

”Did they find anything?”

”No. It’s been hours since we moved her.”

The words are followed by a short silence.

”Then why the hell did they attack now?”

”I don’t know. Ask someone who does.”

Their voices grow quieter as they move away from my door.

I stare blankly at the floor.

So that is what has happened.

The men came looking for me, but they arrived after I was gone. They found an empty house instead of the person they expected to take. Orion’s people were still at the location, and they did not stand aside when the shooting started.

The mercenaries never got near me.

They did not find the car that brought me here. They did not follow it through the city. They did not reach this hotel or discover which room I am in.

Whatever they came to do, they failed to do it. And yet, I cannot find much comfort in that.

I look toward the closed curtains.

Somewhere beyond them, the afternoon continues. The sun is probably shining against the windows of the buildings across the street. People are sitting in restaurants, arguing over small things, checking their phones, and waiting for traffic lights to change.

Meanwhile, a house by the lake is burning.

I do not know if the whole building is gone. I do not know whether the men left behind were hurt. I do not even know if the attack was meant to kill everyone inside or if they only wanted to reach the room where I had been kept.

I know one thing. They expected to find me there. And they were willing to shoot their way through anyone who stood between them and their target.

I let out a slow breath.

Alice.

The thought arrives without warning. They are trying to reach Alice through me.

Perhaps they think taking me will force her to appear. Perhaps they believe she will trade something for my safety. Perhaps they have decided that I am useful enough to keep alive until they get what they want.

There are too many possibilities, and none of them make me feel better.

I rub my thumb over the red mark on my wrist.

Alice has spent years teaching me that there is always a reason behind what she does. A hidden purpose. A second plan. Sometimes a third one waiting behind the second.

She rarely tells me the truth until it is too late for me to do anything with it.

I used to believe that meant she trusted me with the important parts. Now I wonder if she simply liked watching me catch up.

My gaze moves to the door.

Orion’s people have taken me out of her reach, but that does not mean they have taken me out of danger. If anything, the attack proves that I have been placed in the middle of something much larger than I understood.

The people who want Alice are willing to use me. The people protecting me have their own reasons for keeping me here. And Alice, wherever she is, has left me to deal with the space between those two facts.

I could be angry. I probably should be.

Instead, I feel tired.

Not the kind of tired that makes me want to sleep. It sits deeper than that, somewhere behind my ribs. It is the feeling of reaching the end of a long argument and realizing that nobody has been listening.

For years, I have tried to understand what Alice wants from me. I have searched her face for signs that she might care about me beyond what I can offer her. I have listened to her promises and tried to find something honest beneath them.

Even now, some foolish part of me still wants an answer. Why me? Why does every path seem to lead back to something she has done?

I close my eyes briefly.

The answer will not come from sitting in this room.

It will not come from the men outside my door, either. They are trained to follow orders, not explain the reasons behind them. If Orion wants to tell me something, he will do it when he decides the time is right.

Until then, I am supposed to wait.

I hate waiting.

A knock sounds against the door.

I open my eyes.

”Miss Louise?”

It’s one of the guards.

”What?”

”Are you all right?”

The question catches me off guard. I look at the door as if I might see his face through it.

”Why wouldn’t I be?”

There is a pause.

”We heard about the attack. I thought you should know that you’re safe here.”

I almost smile. Safe. That word again.

”Did I ask if I was safe?”

”No, miss.”

”Then you can go back to standing outside.”

Another pause follows. I imagine him shifting his weight, wondering whether he should say something else.

”Mr. Vassilis has been informed,” he says at last. ”Someone may come to speak with you soon.”

”How exciting.”

He does not answer. His footsteps retreat down the hallway. I look back at the bed and shake my head.

Someone may come to speak with me soon.

They make it sound like I am waiting for a visitor instead of being held against my will. Perhaps that is how people like Orion see the world.

Every problem can be managed if it is placed in the right room, watched by the right men, and kept away from anyone who might make it worse.

I wonder what he will say when he comes.