[BL] The Mafia Boss Wants My Body

Chapter 302: Chapter 302: The Nightmare Comes True

Adrian was sitting comfortably on the bed, looking up from his tablet as she entered.

Bella walked over to the bedside table, placing the poisoned tray down with a polite, practiced bow.

"Sir, your dinner is here," she said, her voice steady, though her eyes glinted with a dark, hidden anticipation.

Adrian looked up from his tablet and offered a warm, relaxed smile. "Thank you, Bella."

"You are welcome, sir," Bella replied smoothly, keeping her expression perfectly pleasant as she gestured toward the steaming plate. "Please, make sure to eat it before it gets cold. Chef Selene made it specially for you."

"Alright, alright," Adrian chuckled. He set his tablet aside on the mattress and shifted his position, sitting up cross-legged on the bed to face the tray.

Bella didn’t make a move to leave. Instead, she folded her hands neatly in front of her apron. "If you don’t mind, sir, I’d like to wait until you finish your food. Chef Selene gave me strict instructions to make sure you finished everything tonight and to bring the empty dishes back down."

Adrian smiled, touched by the gesture. Since his conversation with Matteo, he had completely embraced his usual, sweet nature, grateful for the household’s attentiveness. "Wow, tell Selene I appreciate it. Thanks for the care, all of you."

Feeling a bit lonely in the massive bedroom without Matteo, Adrian decided to keep her around for some company. Before picking up his cutlery, he began casually chatting with her, asking how her week was going, how she liked working at the estate, and lighthearted questions about the staff dynamics.

Bella forced herself to answer politely, masking her growing impatience with a tight smile. Inside, her heart was hammering against her ribs. Every minute spent talking felt like a lifetime, her anxiety spiking as she waited for him to finally take a bite.

Noticing how rigid Bella seemed, Adrian stood up from the bed and walked over to the mini-fridge in the corner of the room. He pulled out a chilled bottle of sweet fruit juice, walked back over, and handed it directly to her. "Here, have something to drink while we talk. You look a bit tired."

Bella blinked in surprise, her fingers wrapping around the cold bottle. "Thank you, sir," she murmured, her throat suddenly dry. She desperately needed something sweet to coat her tongue and steady her nerves, finding a twisted sense of irony in the fact that she was using his kindness to calm herself down while performing such a bitter, deadly job.

Adrian walked back to the bed, settling back into his cross-legged position to continue their conversation.

Bella quickly cracked the seal on the bottle and began to drink. The cold, sugary liquid rushed down her throat, and because her adrenaline was spiking so intensely, she finished the entire bottle before Adrian even finished his next sentence.

After a conversation that felt like it dragged on forever, Adrian finally picked up his fork and knife. He cut a small piece of meat, dipped it into the rich gravy, and ate it.

Bella watched with rapt, hidden intensity as he swallowed.

The poison Owen had given her was a cruel, calculated substance. It wouldn’t hit Adrian’s system immediately or cause him to collapse on the spot. Instead, it was designed to lie dormant for several hours, slowly and silently binding to his respiratory tract. It would take effect in the dead of the night, when the entire villa was asleep and shrouded in silence.

By the time Adrian woke up suffocating, he wouldn’t even have the breath to scream or call out for help, mirroring the exact terror of his nightmare.

As Adrian continued to eat, distracted by the meal, Bella subtly slid her hand into her apron pocket. She carefully angled her phone, turning on the camera to secretly record a brief video of Adrian eating the poisoned food. She needed the footage as undeniable proof to send to Owen to secure her massive payout.

Once the clip was saved, she slipped the phone away, a cold wave of triumph washing over her.

Adrian eventually finished the meal, letting out a satisfied sigh as he pushed the empty plate away and climbed back under the cozy duvet.

Right on cue, a heavy knock sounded on the door, and one of Matteo’s lead bodyguards stepped into the room to perform his scheduled security check. He looked at Adrian, ensuring he was safe and comfortable, before turning to the maid. "Are you done here, Bella?"

"Yes, sir. He finished everything," Bella replied, picking up the silver tray with trembling, adrenaline-fueled hands.

The bodyguard nodded, escorting her out of the master bedroom and locking the heavy doors behind them.

Left alone in the quiet room, Adrian smiled softly and immediately reached for his phone, dialing Matteo’s number.

The call rang several times before going straight to voicemail.

Adrian let out a quiet sigh, figuring Matteo was probably busy with work.

Propping himself up against the pillows, he decided to wait for Matteo to call him back.

But as the minutes stretched into an hour, exhaustion slowly overtook him. His eyelids grew heavier and heavier until he could no longer fight the sleep pulling at him. Before he knew it, he had drifted off to sleep.

A few hours later, the peace of the night vanished.

Adrian woke up abruptly, a sudden, heavy lethargy pinning his limbs to the mattress. His body felt completely drained, weak, and unresponsive. Before he could even process the strange exhaustion, a sharp, burning sensation seized his throat.

He gasped, but no air came.

A violent cough tore from his chest, but it was muffled, choked off by an invisible, tightening vice around his windpipe. Panic exploded in his chest. Trembling violently, Adrian forced his weak, heavy hand to reach toward the nightstand, desperately trying to grab his phone. His fingers brushed the glass screen, but his muscles failed him.

He tried to scream for help, to call out for the guards outside the door, but his vocal cords were completely paralyzed. Only a silent, desperate rattle escaped his lips. It was happening exactly like his nightmare.

He was suffocating in the dark, entirely alone, clutching at his throat as the room spun. His vision began to blur, fractured by bursts of white light, until the terrifying grip of the poison dragged him down into absolute darkness.

Miles away, Matteo had just returned to his hotel room after wrapping up a business dinner. He slipped off his long overcoat, draped it over the back of a chair, and checked his watch.

It was already past midnight back home.

A small smile tugged at his lips as he immediately dialed Adrian’s number, expecting to hear his boyfriend’s sleepy, sweet voice.

It rang to the end. No answer.

Matteo frowned, a subtle prickle of unease hitting his chest. He hung up and dialed again. Then a third time. By the fifth consecutive unanswered call, the residual dread from Adrian’s nightmare roared back to life in Matteo’s mind. His heart rate spiked.

He bypassed Adrian’s phone and immediately called the lead bodyguard stationed outside the master bedroom.

"Boss?" the guard answered instantly.

"Go inside the room right now," Matteo commanded, his voice tight and dangerously sharp. "Adrian isn’t answering his phone. Check on him."

"Sir, yes, sir."

The bodyguard hung up and knocked firmly on the heavy mahogany doors. "Sir? Mr. Adrian?"

Silence.

Without hesitating, the guard pulled out the master keycard, swiped it, and pushed the door open. He stepped into the dim, quiet room.

"Sir?"

No response.

He walked closer to the bed. In the shadows, Adrian’s body was curled on his side, his face half-buried in the pillows. To any casual observer, it looked like he was merely sleeping soundly.

The guard pulled his phone out and called Matteo back. "Boss, he’s asleep. He looks peaceful."

On the other end of the line, Matteo gripped his phone so hard the plastic creaked. Something felt wrong. Deep in his gut, a protective instinct was screaming. "Confirm it. Walk up to him and make sure he’s okay."

"Yes, sir," the guard said, taking another step forward. But as his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he paused. Adrian’s body was contorted into an awkwardly rigid, unnatural position, a posture no one would ever comfortably sleep in.

"Sir. Adrian?" the guard called, his voice dropping as he reached out and touched Adrian’s shoulder. It was shockingly cold. He shook him gently. Adrian’s head rolled back limply, his face pale, his lips tinged with an awful, ghostly blue.

The guard’s blood turned to ice. He frantically pressed two fingers against Adrian’s carotid artery. Nothing.

"Boss!" the guard screamed into the phone, his professional composure shattering into pure panic. "Boss, he’s not breathing! Adrian isn’t breathing!"

"What?!" Matteo roared through the receiver.

In an instant, Adrian’s tearful words from that night came crashing back into his mind.

"I died in there, Matteo... and you couldn’t find me."

Matteo’s face drained of color.

"Get the medical team!" he shouted...