Owned By The Psychotic Billionaire (Mafia BL)

Chapter 130: A Monstrous Beauty He Is

ADRIEN’S POV

In the center of the vast, empty room sits a raised wooden platform. Elevated several feet above the ground on that platform is a heavy wooden chair, and strapped tightly to that chair is a man.

Around the platform, five heavy vehicle tires are arranged in a wide circle. They have been modified with flat wooden bottoms, turned into shallow tubs filled to the brim with pale, sloshing liquid.

Floating on top of the liquid in each tire are thin square pieces of plywood, and fixed to the center of each wooden board are small, flickering candles. The tiny flames dance softly in the drafty air of the warehouse, casting long, amber shadows across the concrete floor.

Ropes descend from the man’s arms, legs, and torso, their thick strands soaked dark with fuel, dangling straight down into the gasoline-filled tires.

It looks like a twisted piece of art. A delicate, deadly structure built with terrifying precision.

I stop dead in my tracks. My breath catches in my throat.

The man tied to the chair shifts violently the moment he hears our footsteps echoing through the empty space.

He lets out a muffled, frantic whimpering sound through the thick black tape sealed over his mouth. His body twitches, but every time he moves too sharply, the dangling ropes sway, threatening to disturb the floating boards and tip the tiny candle flames directly into the pool of fuel beneath them.

My heart hammers wildly against my ribs. I take a half-step back, but Orion’s hand remains anchored on my waist, holding me firmly at his side.

"Do you recognize him?" Orion asks softly. He leans down, resting his chin lightly on my shoulder, his voice vibrating against my neck like a gentle purr. "Look closely, duckling. Take your time, and don’t rush. The party hasn’t even started."

I stare at the man on the chair.

His clothes are filthy, stained with dirt and sweat. His hair is greasy, matted against his forehead, and his face is flushed red with sheer, unadulterated panic. Angry, dark rope burns mark his bare arms and legs where he tried to fight his bindings earlier.

Then, he lifts his head, his wide, bloodshot eyes locking onto mine through the dim light.

A violent shockwave hits my chest, stealing every drop of air from my lungs.

I know those eyes. I know that face.

My mind spirals backward, ripping through seven years of buried darkness, dropping me right back onto a freezing, rain-slicked street corner near a playground.

This is the man.

This is the first person I met after I ran away from the academy on that rainy night. The man who found me shivering behind a jungle gym, weak from hunger, terrified, and utterly alone.

The man who offered me a dry blanket and a warm loaf of bread, only to reveal the true cost an hour later in a locked room that smelled of stale beer, damp carpet, and mold.

He was the one who taught me what my body was worth on the street. He was the one who dragged me into the trade, forcing me to yield to older, repulsive men, making me trade blowjobs and humiliating favors just to earn a roof over my head and a plate of cold food.

He was the monster who stripped away whatever fragile innocence I had left after escaping Orion’s clutches.

My knees go weak. My breath comes in short, jagged gasps as the memories flood my mind like acid, burning through every defense I built over the years.

"You..." I whisper, my voice cracking in the quiet warehouse.

Orion feels the tremor running through my body. His hands move up my arms, smoothing over my shoulders, turning me slightly so he can look down into my pale face.

His black soulless eyes are shining with a manic, eager light. It is the look of a child presenting a prized toy, waiting desperately for praise.

"I found him for you," Orion murmurs, his hands framing my face gently, his thumbs wiping away a cold tear I didn’t even realize had slipped down my cheek. "He took something from you that belonged to me. He put his filthy hands on you when you were weak and helpless."

"Orion... oh god, Orion," I gasp out, gripping his sleeves tightly as my head spins. "How... how did you find him? I vanished years ago."

"Nobody vanishes from me, Adrien," Orion whispers, his fingers caressing my jawline with agonizing sweetness. "I tracked every single person who ever looked at you sideways while you were away from me. I bought his debts. I bought his house. I bought his worthless, wretched life. And then I dragged him here."

I stare at Orion, my vision blurring, my chest heaving as I try to pull in air. "Orion... what did you do to him already? Look at his arms!"

"He tried to fight," Orion explains with a light, dismissive sigh, as if talking about an unruly pet. "He didn’t realize that struggling only pulls the fuel up the lines. He did that to himself out of stupidity. But I kept him alive. I kept him whole enough for you to look into his eyes."

He steps closer, pressing his forehead against mine, his breath warm against my trembling lips.

"I am giving him to you, Adrien," Orion whispers, his voice thick with an absolute, possessive intensity. "He is your gift. You can watch him burn, or you can let him sit there until his heart gives out from the fear. Whatever you want. His life is in your hands now. Say the word, and I will tip the candles myself."

I pull back slightly, shaking my head in utter disbelief. The sheer scale of what he has done, the weird beauty of this trap, leaves me feeling lightheaded.

"Why?" I choke out, my hands coming up to grip his wrists, my knuckles turning white against his dark sleeves. "Why would you do this? You didn’t care about me back then! You hunted me down like an animal all over the place! You wanted to break me!"