Owned By The Psychotic Billionaire (Mafia BL)

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."

"Yes, sir!" the head guard responds, bowing his head sharply before barking orders to his team.

Orion turns his sharp gaze toward the inner courtyard entrance, his eyes narrowing into slits.

"Has anyone laid eyes on Leon?" he demands, looking at the guards assigned to the interior doors.

The lead guard hesitates, swallowing hard under the weight of Orion’s burning stare. He steps forward, shaking his head slightly.

"No, Mr. Vassilis," the guard reports, his voice tight. "We swept the private rooms, the lower halls, and the gardens. None of us have seen him since the commotion began."

Truly, none of them have.

Leon disappeared like a rat slipping back into the gutters the moment his sloppy trap was sprung. He set the fire, caused the chaos, and fled before the consequences could catch up to him.

Orion’s jaw tightens, a cold smirk touching his lips without reaching his eyes.

"He thinks he can run...?" Orion murmurs softly, the words dripping with dark amusement.

He turns around, facing Niko, who has just walked into the sanctuary with his open laptop balanced on one arm.

"Niko," Orion says, his voice dropping into a quiet command. "Track the chip."

Niko looks up from his screen, frowning slightly. "The chip? What chip are we talking about?"

"The one I slipped into his food," Orion replies, his manic eyes glittering under the golden lights.

A few weeks ago, during a quiet dinner where Adrien had been too distracted by the upcoming threat of family politics to pay attention to his plate, Orion had quietly made sure a microscopic, military-grade tracking chip was placed inside his meal.

It was a paranoid, possessive precaution—a hidden link to ensure that no matter where Adrien went, no matter who tried to hide him, Orion would always be able to locate his duckling.

Niko does not ask questions. He knows better than to judge Orion’s unhinged methods when it comes to Adrien.

He admires the man for his lunancy, not the shit he pulls during the course of his ’relationship’.

Niko walks over to a dark wooden pew, settling down on the bench, resting his laptop on his knees. His fingers move rapidly across the mechanical keyboard, bringing up a secure satellite interface.

A digital map of the city appears on the high-definition screen, cross-referencing encrypted frequencies and private GPS relays.

Orion stands right behind him, leaning over his shoulder, his hot breath hitting the air, his burning eyes fixed on the screen.

"Connecting to the frequency now," Niko mutters, typing in a long string of bypass codes. "Scanning the sector near the crash site first... expanding the radius to the docks... then the lower city..."

A green radar pulse sweeps across the digital map.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

The screen flickers. A sudden red warning box flashes across the interface, followed by a harsh, repeating error chime. The smooth signal graph drops into a flatline of static gray noise.

Niko frowns, his fingers flying faster over the keys, trying to manually re-establish the connection. "Wait. That’s strange."

"What is it?" Orion asks, his voice dropping, a lethal edge sharpening every syllable.

"The signal is gone," Niko says, his brow furrowing deep as he pulls up the raw frequency diagnostics. "It didn’t just fail or lose power. It’s actively being jammed. Someone is running a high-frequency grade dampener directly around his location."

Silence drops over the quiet sanctuary once more.

Niko looks up from the screen, his face grave as he meets Orion’s burning, manic stare.

"It’s been jammed somehow," Niko adds softly, voicing the dark reality sitting in the air. "Almost as if the kidnappers knew about the chip, too."

For a second, nobody moves.

Then, Orion begins to laugh.

It starts as a low, rumbling chuckle in the back of his throat, vibrating through his broad chest. But within seconds, it swells into a wild, echoing laugh that bounces off the arched stone ceilings of the church.

He tilts his head back, his shoulders shaking, laughing like a man who has lost his mind. It is an eerie, terrifying sound that strips the air right out of the room.

Alexis, standing near the heavy entrance doors, visibly flinches at the sound. He shifts his weight, his knuckles turning white as he grips the butt of his sidearm, unsettled by the sudden break in Orion’s icy composure.

Orion cuts his laughter short, though the manic glint in his eyes blazes hotter than before. He snaps his gaze down toward Niko, pointing a sharp finger at the laptop screen.

"Keep tracking it," Orion commands, his voice tight and raspy from the laughter. "Don’t stop. Route it through every backup satellite we own. Override every local signal in this city if you have to. Just make sure you keep tracking Adrien’s chip."

"Got it," Niko says, turning his focus straight back to the keys, his fingers moving in a rapid blur.

Orion turns away from the laptop, stepping away from the altar area. He leaves the inner part of the church, heading down the side corridor to go and search for Leon.

He needs to move. He needs to burn off the sheer volume of his rage and the clawing, suffocating wave of nervousness rising in his gut.

Because behind the manic eyes and the lethal composure, Orion is nervous.

Adrien is out of his reach.

For the first time since he laid eyes on Adrien, Orion does not know where his duckling is. And that is counting the seven years Adrien thought they were ’apart’.

He did not know that this could even be possible. He built walls around Adrien, set eyes on him, slipped trackers into his body, and believed he controlled every variable.

Yet, someone stepped out of the dark and plucked Adrien right out of his hands. The realization feels like a hand wrapping around his throat, squeezing the air from his lungs.

He steps out of the room, entering the private residential wing of the church estate.

He walks down the quiet, carpeted hallway, his shoes thudding against the floorboards.

Back in the main room, Niko keeps his eyes glued to the laptop screen. He hears the first loud crash echoing from down the passage. He pretends he can’t hear the sound of expensive oil paintings being ripped off the plaster walls and tearing down the middle.

He pretends he can’t hear the shattering of antique glass ornaments as Orion smashes them against the stone walls.

"What a mess you’ve made, puppy..."

The heavy thud of dark mahogany doors being kicked off their hinges echoes through the corridor.

Orion is losing his shit because Adrien is not there. He’s losing his shit because Adrien is not there.

He tears through the bishop’s private study, overturnes massive oak bookcases, smashes stained-glass partitions, and ripped open every closet, all in a haze of overwhelming emotions he can’t even begin to describe.

A few minutes later, the violent noise dies down.

Orion walks back into the grand hall. His shirt sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, his knuckles scraped and bleeding, his breathing heavy. The storm in his eyes has settled into something sharp, and focused.

He stops in front of one of his senior lieutenants standing guard near the aisle.

"Done throwing a tantrum?" Niko asks lazily, not even bothering to look up from his screen.

"Send an order to our men," Orion commands, ignoring Niko’s snide remark. "Not just here. Reach out to our teams around the world. I want a total search for Leon Vassilis. I want every asset, every safehouse, and every contact he has ever spoken to be put under a microscope."

The lieutenant nods instantly. "Understood, sir."

"And find out everything that happened in the Vassilis home in the last three weeks," Orion adds, his eyes narrowing. "Dig through every financial record, every private call, every servant’s entry log. Look for anything good, anything bad, anything small that we could have missed."

"Something gave Leon the courage to pull this off, and I want to know what that is."

"It will be done immediately, Mr. Vassilis," the guard bows, quickly stepping away to execute the command.

Orion stands near the center of the church. The nervous knot in his chest remains, but his mind is set on a singular, destructive goal.

Slowly, his head turns toward the side aisle.

His eyes lock onto the heavy wooden confessional sitting in the shadows near the back wall—a quiet box designed for secrets, sins, and whispered betrayals.

A crazed laugh escapes Orion’s lips, short but loud, echoing through the empty space between the church’s pews.

He stares at the dark wood of the confessional, his eyes burning with an unhinged light, as if looking directly through the shadows to the man who orchestrated the entire mess.

"It’s your move now...Yaya," Orion whispers into the silence.