Owned By The Psychotic Billionaire (Mafia BL)

Up close, without the cage mesh between them, the rich fucker’s eyes are even more absurd. They are flat, bottomless, and void of anything human.

Niko’s right hand instantly closes into a tight, hard fist. His muscle memory kicks in before his brain even processes the intrusion.

If this rich prick came back here thinking he could try some weird high-class violence on a cage fighter, Niko is going to rock his world so hard he will forget his own name.

They are roughly the same size. Same broad shoulders, same tall height, same thick, conditioned build. The rich fucker looks like he works out just as intensely as Niko does, every single day.

The rich fucker glances down at Niko’s clenched fist. A calm, surprisingly clean smile touches his lips.

"Orion Vassilis," the guy says. His voice is smooth and deep.

Niko blinks, his eyebrows pulling together in genuine confusion. "What the fuck is an Orion Vassilis?"

"That is my name," the rich fucker— now apparently named Orion— replies easily. He steps into the small concrete room, closing the heavy wooden door behind him with a soft click. "I thought it would be best if I introduced myself first."

Niko’s second hand clenches into a fist. "Introduce yourself before what?"

Orion’s smile stretches wide. It grows into something so eerie, so fundamentally unnerving, that the hair on the back of Niko’s neck stands straight up.

"Introduce myself before we beat the shit out of each other," Orion says.

A sudden, sharp smile cuts straight across Niko’s face.

They both lunge at the exact same time.

There is no formal ring stance. No referee. No rules. Just two eighteen-year-old monsters exploding into motion inside a tiny, windowless room.

Orion moves with terrifying speed, his dark coat whipping around him as he drives a heavy, straight right hand directly into Niko’s jaw.

The impact rattles Niko’s teeth, sending a shockwave straight up into his skull. Niko absorbs the blow, gritting his teeth, and drives his elbow straight into Orion’s ribs with enough force to crack the bone like dry firewood.

Orion does not even flinch. He grabs Niko by the throat, slamming him hard against the brick wall. The impact knocks the wind straight out of Niko’s lungs.

Brick dust erupts into the air. Niko grabs Orion by the front of his expensive black suit jacket, leverages his weight, and violently hurls him headfirst into the heavy wooden bench.

Orion’s head connects with the thick oak edge. A sharp, loud split echoes through the room as the skin on his forehead tears wide open. Blood immediately wells up, spilling over Orion’s brow in a dark red wave.

Orion just laughs. It is a low, breathless sound that makes Niko’s blood boil with adrenaline. Orion drives his knee straight into Niko’s thigh, catching a nerve.

Niko’s leg instantly buckles, a blinding flash of pain shooting up his spine. Niko counters by grabbing Orion’s head with both hands, driving his knee straight up into his chest, shattering another set of ribs.

They crash to the concrete floor together, a chaotic tangle of fists, boots, and flying blood. Niko drives short, vicious punches into Orion’s ribs, while Orion lands a brutal, swinging left that catches Niko directly across the temple.

Thirty minutes later, the room is completely quiet, save for the sound of ragged, painful breathing.

Both of them are lying flat on their backs on the cold, blood-splattered concrete floor.

Niko stares up at the flickering lightbulb above. Blood bleeds steadily from a deep gash on his temple, pooling into his dark hair.

His right forearm is hanging at an unnatural angle, definitely fractured, if not entirely broken. Three of his ribs feel like splintered glass every time his chest expands, and his left leg is completely numb from a dead nerve.

Beside him, Orion lies on his back, staring at the exact same lightbulb. Blood from his split forehead has covered the entire left side of his face, soaking the collar of his expensive black shirt.

Niko knows for a fact he broke at least four of the fucker’s ribs, because he heard each individual crack as his knee made contact.

Niko grinds his back teeth together, frustration twisting in his gut. It rankles him to his absolute core. He spent his entire life down in these gutter rings, fighting grown men, breaking bones, and surviving on raw violence.

Yet he did not even manage to beat this rich prick any more than the rich prick beat him. In fact, it is safe to say Niko is profoundly disappointed in himself.

A rustle of fabric echoes beside him.

Niko turns his head slowly, his neck popping with pain. Orion is actually trying to sit up.

Niko stares at him in utter disbelief. Didn’t I just break four of your ribs? Why don’t you just sit down and fucking rest?

Orion leans his body forward, resting his forearms on his knees. Because he is tilted downward, the dark red blood pouring from his split forehead drips straight down past his nose.

Orion lazily sticks out his tongue, catching a heavy drop of his own blood right on the tip. He swallows it, smacking his lips slightly.

Then Orion turns his head, catches Niko staring at him, and starts to laugh.

It is not a small, polite chuckle. It is a loud, uncontrolled, genuine laugh that rattles through his broken chest, causing him to wince and laugh even harder.

Niko looks at the blood-covered guy, looks at his flat black eyes, and realizes with absolute certainty that this guy is an authentic, unhinged lunatic.

And then, before he can stop himself, Niko starts laughing too.

The sound of his own laughter sends a sharp, excruciating spike of pain through his fractured ribs, but he cannot help it.

He lies there on the floor, clutching his side with his good hand, cackling up at the ceiling like he has completely lost his mind.

They sit there in the ruined concrete room, two beaten, broken eighteen-year-olds, laughing at each other like old friends at a bar.

Orion clears his throat, wincing as he wipes a smear of blood from his eye. "Are you having fun?"

Niko’s laughter slowly tapers off into a quiet, breathless wheeze. He stares at the ceiling, a wide, bloody grin on his face. "This is the most fun I’ve had in years."

Orion nods slowly, looking down at his own bloodied knuckles. "Do you want to have even more fun?"

"Yeah," Niko replies without a second thought, his voice raspy. "I’d actually like that a lot."

Orion opens his mouth to say something else, but suddenly he freezes. His entire body goes completely still.

Niko frowns, tilting his head. "What’s wrong?"

He has been watching this guy for a month from the cage. He has never seen the rich fucker look unsure of himself, not even for a fraction of a second. But right now, Orion looks genuinely caught off guard.

Orion blinks, looking down at Niko. "I never even asked for your name. All I know you as is Wildcat."

Niko bursts into another sudden round of loud, surprised laughter. He shakes his head, wincing at the pain in his temple. "My name is Niko. N-I-K-O."

Orion stares at him for a second, his brow furrowing in dramatic confusion. "That is a very plagiarized name. Why can’t your name just be N-I-C-O?"

Niko snorts, wiping a dribble of blood from his lip with his shoulder. "I don’t know, man. Why don’t you ask my fucking parents?"

Orion’s eyes narrow slightly, a playful spark flaring in his dark gaze. He subtly shifts his weight, leaning forward like he is preparing to launch his body off the floor for a second round. "Show me to your fucking parents, then."

Niko wheezes out a laugh, pointing his good hand lazily at Orion. "I wouldn’t know where my parents are. They’re probably dead. But I am more than happy to show you where they are right now. Maybe pushing your body into a grave will stop my blood from boiling so hot."

Orion pauses, his posture relaxing just a fraction as he lets out a quiet sigh. "I can’t go anywhere near a grave right now. I think my ribs are broken."

They stare at each other for a beat. Then both of them burst into laughter all over again.

Orion slowly, painfully pushes himself off the floor. His movements are stiff, his face pale from the blood loss, but he somehow manages to stand up on his own two feet.

He adjusts his ruined black jacket, ignoring the sharp winces that shoot through his core with every breath.

He looks down at Niko, who is still lying flat on the floor, unable to move his left leg.

"Come find me in a year," Orion says smoothly.

Niko looks up at him from the floor, his eyebrow twitching. "After a year for what?"

Orion looks down at him blankly. He blinks once, twice, as if the answer should be obvious to anyone with a brain. "To have fun, of course. What else are we going to do but have fun?"

Niko groans softly, resting the back of his hand over his eyes. "That sounds like a lot of trouble."

Orion turns toward the wooden door. He opens it, stepping out into the cold corridor, his voice echoing back into the small room like a whisper.

"Isn’t that what makes everything more fun?"

The door closes with a dull thud.

Niko lies alone on the blood-stained concrete floor, broken in places no opponent in the cage has ever managed to break him before.

He lies there in the dim light, staring up at the flickering bulb, laughing softly to himself like a complete lunatic.