Owned By The Psychotic Billionaire (Mafia BL)

Chapter 136: Guess Who Has Less To say?

ADRIEN’S POV

I watch my own pale, hollow face on the screen. I watch a blurry video file start to play.

The television station has put heavy pixelation over the center of the clip, but it is not hard to tell what is happening. It is a crude, dirty sex tape.

A hidden camera recording of a paying customer and me in some nameless, rot-smelling motel room from four years ago. The motion of the bodies is clear despite the blur. My own quiet, miserable surrender is completely visible to anyone watching.

"This footage and extensive documentation have been released publicly to inform the public about the true nature of Orion Vassilis’s new partner," the voice on the screen says smoothly, completely unbothered by the sheer destruction it is broadcasting into millions of homes across the country. "So that we may finally see the truth about Adrien Dubois."

I can’t feel my legs anymore. I can’t feel my hands. I watch the pixels on the screen move, watching my past self surrender everything just to buy a warm coat or a single plate of hot food.

Then, the news anchor switches her tone, her expression turning stern and authoritative as the broadcast shifts gears to something far more dangerous.

"Furthermore, current law enforcement investigations reveal that Adrien Dubois is now a prime suspect in the devastating bombing at the first engagement party of Louise Dubois and Leon Vassilis," she states clearly. A high-resolution photo of the ruined, smoke-filled courtyard flashes onto the display. "Dubois was previously implicated in the initial crime, but charges were quietly dropped and hushed up under the direct, heavy-handed orders of Orion Vassilis."

The reporter pauses for dramatic effect before delivering the final, fatal blow.

"Now, following these appalling revelations regarding Dubois’s extensive history in the criminal underground, societal elites and business leaders are pushing for a full, sweeping federal investigation into his involvement in the attack. Authorities question whether Dubois leaked sensitive security details and floor plans regarding the event to one of his many underworld clients who held a deep-seated grudge against both prominent families."

A strange, distant thought drifts through my fogged, floating mind.

Yes, I think to myself silently, floating somewhere far above my trembling body. The person who set off that bomb definitely has a grudge against both families. I just wish I knew why.

Alexis steps forward, his voice tight, strained, and laced with suppressed panic as he breaks the heavy silence hanging over the living room.

"It has been running on every major news network since you left for the docks, Orion," Alexis says softly, his eyes darting anxiously between the two of us. "I tried to get our media teams to pull the broadcast feeds, but it’s everywhere. It went viral online ten minutes ago. It’s trending globally."

Alexis reaches for a remote control on the marble coffee table and switches the channel to the primary international business news station.

The red financial ticker running along the bottom of the screen shows financial graphs plummeting sharply, steep red lines crashing toward the floor.

"The stocks for Vassilis’s main holdings are dropping rapidly," Alexis mutters, his voice tight. "The public backlash is immediate and catastrophic. Even your personal tech firms, the shipping lines, and the real estate holdings are taking a massive hit. The board of directors is already calling emergency meetings. They are panicking."

My mind numbly, distantly processes his words.

Orion isn’t just a terrifying mafia lord commanding hitmen in dark warehouses. To the rest of the world, he is a brilliant, insanely wealthy, untouchable business mogul.

He commands legitimate corporate empires, international shipping fleets, and billions in investments.

And right now, the entire world is watching his untouchable reputation burn to the ground because his legal husband is a former street whore and an accused mass bomber.

I never expected to be dragged into a massive public scandal like this. I never thought my darkest, most humiliating, most agonizing years would be broadcast across the entire world on mid-afternoon television.

A cold, sudden dread begins to pierce through my dissociation, tearing through the fog in my mind like a rusty blade.

How is Orion taking this?

How is a man as proud, as possessive, as impossibly violent and powerful as Orion Vassilis reacting to the entire world seeing his prized, claimed husband exposed as a cheap prostitute and a common criminal?

I turn my head slowly, stiffly, to look at the man standing right beside me.

The very moment my eyes land on Orion, a violent, visceral shiver shoots straight down my spine, freezing the blood in my veins.

Instinct takes over before my brain can even process the command. My body reacts on pure, primal instinct. I take a heavy, sudden step backward, my heels thudding hard against the floor, tearing my hand completely out of his grip.

Pure, icy terror grips my throat, choking out whatever air I had left.

Orion’s eyes— the eyes I have watched for years, the eyes I always thought looked completely soulless because his dark irises bled so seamlessly into his pupils— are gone.

I realize now, with a sickening, horrific jolt, that this fucker really did have pupils, because right now, I cannot see them at all.

His eyes have turned entirely, pitch black.

It is not just anger. It is not just rage. It is a bottomless, black, apocalyptic fury that absorbs every single trace of light in the room.

The serene, calm, peaceful smile he had worn in the car has completely vanished, wiped away as if it never existed.

In its place is an expression so terrifyingly dark, so monstrously cold, that the air in the large living room feels like it has instantly dropped twenty degrees.

He stands straight, unnaturally still in the middle of the room.

He doesn’t scream. He doesn’t curse. He doesn’t slam his fist into the wall or tear down the screen. He just stands there, his massive, imposing frame radiating an unfiltered, lethal menace that fills every single inch of the house, suffocating everyone inside it.

In this single, horrific moment, the smooth, refined businessman, the manic, obsessed lover, and the ruthless, bloodthirsty mafia lord merge into one singular, terrifying man.

His silent, frozen presence screams a single, suffocating message that vibrates through the cold air without him ever having to open his mouth.

How dare they?