Chapter 17: Chapter 17

Elnora watched as Mason strode away from their table, making his way to join the Armenians across the room. The ambiance of l’Éclipse was different tonight, the air thick with tension and unspoken deals. As she tore her gaze from Mason, a bitter taste filled her mouth, and she bit back a hiss of frustration.

“What would you like to drink?” Benny’s voice broke through her thoughts, drawing her attention to the burly man standing beside her.

“Whiskey. Smooth,” she replied, her tone clipped.

Mason had succeeded in ruining her mood yet again. Telling her to stay out of business discussions? What did he expect her to do, sit pretty and sip cocktails while monsters like Elias leered at her? The idea made her skin crawl. These men weren’t just criminals; they were predators, wrapped in expensive suits and polished manners, but still dangerous.

“Anything to eat?” Benny’s voice jolted her back to the present.

“Just the drink, I’m not hungry.” Elnora leaned back in her chair, reaching up to undo her ponytail. She let her hair fall loose, combing her fingers through it, trying to ease the knot of tension in her chest.

“The boss won’t like that, bella,” Benny said, his voice holding a note of warning.

Elnora sighed, meeting his gaze with a weary look. “So what’s your role? Capo, soldier? Enforcer? What is it?”

Benny chuckled, leaning back in his chair, clearly amused by her question. His silence told her everything she needed to know—she wasn’t getting an answer. As she turned her head, a flicker of movement two tables down caught her eye. Her breath hitched as she recognized the man—Burrell. What the hell was he doing here? She quickly averted her gaze, hoping he hadn’t seen her.

“Boyfriend?” Benny asked with a knowing smile.

She shook her head, her heart racing. The idea of Burrell being here, in this den of vipers, set her on edge. Benny, with his easy charm, playboy ponytail, and well-tailored Tux, was clearly more than just muscle. Mason ran a tight ship, that much was obvious, and Benny’s demeanour suggested he was someone important within the organization. But there were layers here, layers she hadn’t yet peeled back.

Mason had called this organization “his,” and that was all the confirmation Elnora needed to know he was the true head of the Castelli family. But if that was the case, then who was Anton? A figurehead? A decoy? It would make sense—a way to keep the real power hidden in plain sight, shrouded in layers of deception.

Her lips pressed together as she sifted through the pieces of the puzzle, her thoughts circling back to Mason. He was more cunning than she’d given him credit for, a strategist who thrived in the shadows. And if he was the real Don, she was entangled in something far more perilous and intoxicating than she’d initially believed.

She stole a glance at Benny, who was watching her with an expression that was too calm, too calculated. “You’re not just a soldier, are you?” she murmured, more to herself than to him. “Capo?”

Benny’s smile remained steady, inscrutable. “Drink’s coming right up, ~bella~,” was his only response as he tilted his head to the other man watching her.

Elnora nodded absently, her mind elsewhere as she cast another quick look in Burrell’s direction before flipping her hair over her face to shield herself from his view.

“So, ex-boyfriend?” Benny asked.

She scoffed, the sound sharp. “He wishes. That’s Octavia’s arrogant goon,” she said, watching as Benny’s eyes narrowed, a dark intent gleaming in their depths.

Without a word, Benny stood and made his way to Mason’s table. Elnora’s breath caught as Mason’s gaze lifted to meet hers, his eyes locking onto her with a force that made her look away. She turned in her seat, peeking at Burrell, now seated at the bar. What was he doing here? Was he undercover, or had he now part of the crime world?

“El,” Mason’s voice cut through her thoughts like a blade, sharp and sudden. She turned, surprised to find him standing right beside her.

He gestured for her to move over, and she slid to the middle of the seat as he joined her. His fingers found a stray lock of her hair, twirling it between them with a casual intimacy that both unsettled and satisfied her in ways she hated to admit.

“I like your hair this way,” he murmured, his voice laced with a sweetness that felt too genuine for a man like him.

Elnora quickly looked away, tucking her hair behind her ear in a futile attempt to break the moment. “Why did you need me here, Mason? I’m just sitting here, doing nothing.”

“Why do you think Buns is one of Octavia’s agents?” His tone shifted, more focused now, as he waited for her answer. She glanced over at Benny, gauging his reaction.

“Buns? Seriously? What kind of godawful nickname is that?” She smirked, wondering if it referred to his backside or something more sinister.

Mason’s laughter was a low, deep rumble that vibrated through her, sending shivers down her spine. Her skin tingled with a mix of apprehension and something else she didn’t want to name.

“Focus, El,” he said, his voice softening into something dangerous. “How do you know Buns?”

“Burrell was always with Octavia at our meetings,” she replied with a shrug, trying to sound nonchalant. “It’s odd that he’s here, in your underground. It can’t be a coincidence, not with how much her taskforce knows about everyone connected to the collective.” No thanks to me, she thought bitterly.

Mason muttered something under his breath, then waved Benny over, whispering in rapid Italian. Elnora watched him closely, a smile tugging at her lips. There was something about the way he spoke Italian—so fluid, so sensual—that stirred something deep inside her. She accidentally brushed against him, her pulse quickening, but he didn’t seem to notice.

Imagine his surprise when he found out she understood basic Italian—courtesy of her ex, Enrico, who had a habit of slipping into it during their time together.

“You aren’t going to whack him, are you, Mason?” she asked, her tone a mix of curiosity and challenge. She had heard exactly what he said.

“Whack?” His bright green eyes sparkled with amusement as he turned back to her. “Fascinated with old mafia films, I see,” he teased, motioning for his men to head to the bar.

“You still didn’t tell me if you’re whacking him,” she pressed, watching his face closely, daring him to admit he’d just ordered someone to be ‘taken care of.’

Instead, he sidestepped her question. “I’ll have Giorgio drive you back to the compound,” he said, already standing.

Elnora grabbed his arm, her grip firm, pulling him back down. “I want to help. Just talk to me.”

For a moment, he paused, his gaze fixed on her hand gripping his arm.

“Octavia has a rat inside. It might be Buns. He got in somehow, and I have to figure out how he did it.”

“She has information on most of the other members of the collective. Aside from your lieutenants, she knows nothing about you. I did a fine job for the bureau.” Elnora shrugged, her tone defiant. “I’m the only one who can secure your common ground against the bureau as it stands.”

Mason’s gaze softened, his eyes warm as he leaned in and took her hand in his. He squeezed it gently, and the contact sent a jolt of electricity through her, quickening her pulse. She wanted to kiss him, to feel his hands on her, but the truth was inescapable—maybe she was just an auctioned-off possession to him.

The realization twisted in her gut like a knife, sharp and cruel.

“Boss, we need you,” Giorgio interrupted, his tone clipped and urgent. “Signoria,” he added to her.

Mason offered her a hurried smile as he rose from the table. “Get Richard to stay with El,” he ordered, his voice smooth as he adjusted his Tux. He gave her one last reassuring smile. “I’ll be a moment.”

Her eyes followed him as he moved away, his presence leaving a palpable void. It was unfathomable how he could make her feel hunger, fear, and a twisted sense of safety all at once.

Elnora’s hands trembled as she pulled out her phone, her frown deepening at the notification on the screen. She glanced around the room, anxiety tightening her chest.

Her fear wasn’t just about Mason discovering that she had swiped Kristine’s phone; it was about what he would do if he found out. The fact that she hadn’t used it to reach out to anyone wouldn’t matter. He would only care that she had a phone when she wasn’t supposed to. The thought of riling him, of seeing that dark side she glimpsed when he dealt with Antonio, made her blood run cold. No matter how sweet he was to her, Mason was a mafia boss—dangerous, unpredictable.

She customized the phone with advanced software to help her perform complex cyber operations on the go with just a few taps and swipes. She took another cautious look around the room. Maybe he would see that it had paid off. Her program had just alerted her to the priest’s digital footprint here in the Underground. If it wasn’t her program, she’d be sceptical, but this was real.

Benny returned, placing a glass of whiskey on the coaster in front of her. “Your drink, ~signoria~.”

Elnora barely registered it. “I need Mason,” she whispered urgently to Benny. “It’s critical.”

“The boss is in a meeting,” the man she assumed was Richard responded, sliding into the chair opposite her. “He’ll be out in a few.”

Ignoring him, Elnora took remote control of the Underground servers, her fingers flying across the screen as she tracked the Priest’s activities. She had hacked these servers one too many times, so it didn’t take her long to get into the mainframe. With a few deft keystrokes, she initiated a trace on the priest’s signal, exploiting the vulnerabilities she knew all too well. As she watched the data streams flow, she pinpointed the origin of his commands, slowly zeroing in on his exact location. Within minutes, a red dot blinked on her screen, starting to mark the priest’s location. A triumphant smile spread across Elnora’s face as she clenched her fist in victory. Although she wished she had a bigger screen to clean out his hard drive and fry it.

“~Signoria~, come on. The car is ready,” Benny prompted, his tone firm.

“In a minute,” Elnora muttered, her eyes glued to her phone as she triangulated the priest’s location. Something didn’t add up—why wasn’t he trying to hide? What was his endgame?

“Let’s go, ~signoria~,” Richard insisted, his patience clearly thinning as he moved to join Benny.

“No, I need Mason, now. It’s urgent,” she snapped.

Richard cursed under his breath before storming off, leaving Elnora to down her whiskey in one swift gulp. The liquid burned as it went down, but it sharpened her focus. The priest might have been a decent hacker, but his lack of subtlety screamed trap. Still, she needed to know who he was—she had a personal vendetta to settle. The files he was moving didn’t alarm her; they were either bait or something more sinister.

“That’s badass, ~tesora~,” Benny remarked, nodding to her empty glass with a smirk. “Where’d you get that?” He tilted his head toward her phone, curiosity flickering in his eyes.

Elnora ignored him, her focus narrowing as the locator pinged. The priest was here, in the common ground. The realization sent a jolt through her. She had to move quickly, before they confiscated the phone. Her fingers danced across the screen as she initiated a man-in-the-middle attack, intercepting and analysing the data packets flowing between the priest’s device and the network. She masked her intrusion as routine network traffic, careful not to tip him off.

After gaining access, she decided to up the stakes. With a wicked smile, she remotely triggered a loud, piercing alarm on the priest’s device, ensuring it would be impossible for him to ignore. The sharp sound cut through the murmur of conversation, heads swivelling toward the source. Elnora’s gaze swept the room, finally landing on a man in a grey blazer. His eyes widened in panic before he quickly dumped his phone into a pitcher of water.

Gotcha, she thought, a sly grin tugging at her lips.

But the satisfaction was short-lived. The priest, clearly rattled by the alarm, scanned the room with a predator’s gaze. Elnora’s heart skipped a beat as she watched him, her eyes darting to Mason, who had just re-entered with Richard. When she looked back, the priest’s eyes locked onto hers. Recognition flickered in his gaze, and she knew he knew her. He squinted, his eyes narrowing as if trying to figure something out, before he casually looked away, masking his surprise with a feigned nonchalance.

Mason slid back into the seat beside her, his expression one of irritation. “I’m too busy for this,” he muttered. “You need to get back to the compound.”

Elnora leaned in, her voice a whisper. “The priest just hacked the Underground’s servers and transmitted the feeds to an external source using government encryption. And he didn’t even bother hiding his IP. This was intentional, Mason. He wants us to know.”

Mason’s jaw tightened as he stared at her phone, his eyes narrowing with a barely contained fury. He looked back at her, his green eyes darkening with rage.

“Can you locate him?” he asked in a deadly calm tone.

“I already did.” Elnora’s gaze flicked toward the priest, lounging two tables away as if he hadn’t just tried to expose the entire operation. “You can either go after him or leave right now.”

Mason didn’t hesitate. “Initiate the protocol, Benny. The Underground is out of commission.” Benny moved without question, a man used to taking orders on the fly. “Come on,” Mason said, taking Elnora’s hand and pulling her out of the booth.

They moved quickly, cutting through the crowd, Mason signalling to Riley as they passed the priest’s table. Elnora risked a glance back at him. The priest was watching them, a lopsided smile playing on his lips, as if he was amused by the whole situation.

~What the hell is he smiling about?~

As they neared the underground valet where they’d entered, Elnora’s unease deepened. Each step felt like they were leaving more than just a failed encounter behind.

“I think we should leave through the front,” she suggested, slipping her hand from Mason’s grasp.

“That’s not going to happen,” he replied with a chuckle. “Let’s go.”

Mason reached for her hand again, but Elnora yanked it back, her eyes narrowing with concern. “Trust me on this. The way he was sitting there, so relaxed after I pinged him—it doesn’t make sense. Why would he risk everything by being here, in the open, in the Underground of all places? Something’s going down. The Underground valet could be compromised. Out on the street, Octavia can’t touch any of you without probable cause and a warrant. Down here, she can, and she will, under the guise of an undercover sting.”

Mason stopped, his unrelenting stare boring into her, making her shift uneasily. “I find your knowledge of Octavia and law enforcement… fascinating. How do you know all that?”

“I’ve done contract work for government security agencies. I know their operations, and I’d rather not get arrested as an accessory to the mafia, because they won’t care that it’s under duress,” she explained.

Mason’s eyes narrowed. “We’re not done with this conversation,” he warned before turning to Riley. She could feel the burden of the confession she’d eventually have to make, the truth about how close she really was to Octavia. “Get everyone out through the front. You’ve got five minutes to burn all our locations.”

~All? There were more?~

As they circled back past the priest’s table, Elnora noticed he was gone. Without breaking stride, she reached into the pitcher of water and grabbed the discarded phone, slipping it into her pocket as they continued. The lounge was silent now, the sound of patrons leaving with a quiet civility that seemed almost surreal for this crowd.

Now that she had his phone, she could trace him—find out who he was and what he was planning. But the fact that he recognized her, that he knew who she was, bothered her.

How the hell did he know she was Icarus?