Chapter 21: Chapter 21

Elnora jolted awake, a groan escaping her lips as she sat up, disoriented. The room was unfamiliar, sterile in its simplicity. Panic surged through her as the events of last night flooded back—Octavia and her men, the rough extraction from Gia’s Whistle Blower club. She bolted from the bed, her heart racing as she ran to the door, twisting the knob frantically.

What troubled her most was not just the fact that Octavia had taken her, but the sinking realization that Mason and Gia likely thought she’d bolted. Gia would be quick to paint her as a traitor, and Mason… well, she didn’t want to think about how Mason might react.

The room was small, with a queen-size bed in the centre and a large TV mounted on the opposite wall. It felt more like a holding cell than a bedroom. She turned back to the door, hammering on it with her fists. “Octavia!” she shouted, fury lacing her voice.

She wasn’t sure what was worse—the kidnapping or the fact that Richard had called Octavia “boss.” Nothing made sense, and the frustration gnawed at her.

An agent outside the door finally opened it, peering in with a blank expression before stepping aside to let her through. Elnora shot him a withering glare as she stepped into the hallway, flanked by two more armed agents who led her through what looked like a military bunker.

When they reached the control room, Octavia stood at the centre, her eyes fixed on a large screen displaying surveillance footage. Gone was the polished suit; she was dressed in combat pants and a navy green shirt, looking like the military operative she was.

“Sleeping beauty’s up,” Octavia quipped without looking at her. “Leave us,” she ordered the analysts at their stations, snapping her fingers.

Elnora watched as the room cleared out, then moved to Octavia’s side, her eyes narrowing at the surveillance footage of Gia’s club. “What the hell, Octavia? Care to explain why you thought drugging and kidnapping me was a stellar idea?” she snapped, arms crossed, her glare icy enough to freeze hell.

Octavia turned to her with and raised an eyebrow. “Shouldn’t you be grateful we saved you from the mafia’s clutches? Or have you developed a fondness for criminal company?”

“Grateful?” Elnora let out a bitter laugh. “Forgive me if I don’t send a thank-you card. From where I’m standing, looks like I’ve just swapped one prison for another.”

Octavia’s eyes narrowed. “So Clawson was right, and you’ve switched allegiances to the Italians.”

She scoffed, rage flashing in her eyes. “Go to hell, Octavia,” she snapped, turning her back on the woman. “Go straight to hell!”

As she turned, she felt the heaviness of Mason’s jacket on her shoulders. His scent lingered on the fabric, an infuriating reminder of the man she’d left behind—of the confusion, the danger, the attraction that clouded her judgment.

“Who the hell is Clawson?” she muttered under her breath, spinning back to face Octavia

Octavia didn’t miss a beat. “Wait, you mean you don’t know the Priest?” She reached for a file on the desk and tossed it at Elnora, who caught it with both hands. “Or are you seriously going to stand there and tell me you didn’t find the new location of the common ground and didn’t bother to share it with me? What were you thinking going there to auction yourself off?”

“My activities outside our contract are none of your business.” Elnora told her. She couldn’t very well tell her that she’d stumbled into the underground by mistake. Or that the only reason she really was so invested in helping Octavia’s team with their investigation into the collective was because she was trying to find Enrico or whatever trace of him was left.

“When they interfere with my investigation, they damn well are!” Octavia shot back, her grey eyes flaring with rage. “You gave the Italians access to the beamer you created for us. That’s a felony, El. What the hell were you thinking?”

“I’m not interested in your baseless accusations,” Elnora retorted with a dismissive tone. “What I want to know is how you managed to get into Whistle Blower club. Who was your informant, and why did Richard call you boss?”

Octavia laughed, a harsh sound that immediately made Elnora realise she was so very mad at her. “So you give them away like you did with Burrell?”

Elnora stiffened. She hadn’t meant to drag Burrell into this mess, but things had spiralled out of control before she could stop them. It was ironic—unsettling, even—that she found herself more worried about Mason’s reaction than her own safety. Loyalty to a man like him wasn’t something she’d planned on, yet here she was. But how the hell did Octavia know about Burrell? If she had that intel, it meant the common ground really was compromised. Mason should have let her make them invincible when she had the chance.

“I don’t understand what’s going on here,” Elnora said. “Are you trying to save me, or am I under arrest?”

Octavia scoffed, her expression hardening as she turned to her computer. The sound of keys clicking filled the tense silence until a familiar image flashed on the screen—a picture of Mason. His eyes stared back at Elnora, pulling her deeper into his spell that triggered those inexplicable feelings she didn’t fully comprehend.

“Who is he?” Octavia demanded. “Our intel shows you’ve been holed up with him for quite some time. He’s never turned up in any of our investigations, and somehow, he’s managed to stay off your radar as well. Is that because you’re his lover or his inside woman?”

The accusation wasn’t entirely annoying, at least she thought Mason was her lover, but she couldn’t deny the truth. “I don’t know who he is,” she replied. It was the truth—Mason was an enigma, and her suspicions about him were just that. But there was no way in hell she was going to give Octavia more than that.

“Why did Richard call you boss back there?” Elnora added, her voice softer but no less firm. “Play whatever game you want, but don’t mess with him. I’ve seen what he does to friends who cross him. Breaking into one of his clubs is a quick way to end up dead. You need to be more careful.”

Then Octavia hissed and Elnora wasn’t sure if it was concern or jealousy, but it was there, and it was real. Octavia’s breath hitched as she ran her fingers through her honey-brown hair, a gesture Elnora recognized all too well from their past.

Octavia stepped closer, her voice dropping to a near-whisper. “Here’s the deal: I’m giving you a chance to come clean, or I’m going to charge you with treason and aiding a known mafia operative.”

Her eyes flashed with anger. “Treason? For what, exactly? Aren’t you and your people guilty of the same—snooping, invading privacy, and doing whatever the hell you want in the name of the ‘greater good’?” She shot Octavia a scathing look. “Don’t forget who helped you with your illegal hacks. I know where all the bodies are buried, Octavia. If you want to threaten me, you’ll have to do better than that. Don’t try to use some crap the Priest fed you as leverage.”

As she walked away from Octavia, she tossed the folder back onto the desk. Whatever lies the Priest had concocted didn’t concern her—not when the real danger was standing right in front of her.

Octavia’s eyes burned with frustration and something else—something angrier. “Are you going to deny that you’re not Icarus? That you’re not the hacker selling government secrets?”

Elnora rolled her eyes, the accusation almost laughable. “You just accuse people without bothering to verify anything, don’t you?” She leaned against the desk, folding her arms over her chest. “Tell me, Octavia, did you send the Priest to the underground?”

Octavia’s reaction was swift and unexpected. She grabbed Elnora’s arm, her grip ironclad with a simmering rage in her eyes. “I’m detaining you until you answer my questions,” she hissed, pulling Elnora closer, their faces inches apart.

Elnora frowned as she stared into Octavia’s stormy grey eyes, the anger there unmistakable. But beneath that fury, she saw something else—something familiar. It was the same emotion she’d seen in those eyes when they were lovers. A memory flickered in her mind, unbidden: the way Octavia’s touch used to linger just a little too long when they worked together, the way she’d lean in just a little too close, teasing with every stolen touch. It wasn’t so different from the way Kristine had approached her, though Kristine’s methods were blunt and direct.

But while she had easily brushed off Kristine, Octavia had been different. There was something very curious about her, a desire to experiment that Elnora couldn’t resist, even when she knew she should. She’d given in, let herself be swept up in the dangerous pleasures of Octavia’s game. And now, even as Octavia’s grip tightened around her arm, there was a part of Elnora that remembered how much she’d enjoyed it—remembered and responded to that spark.

“Are you going to make me talk?” Elnora asked, her lips curling into a suggestive smile.

For a moment, Octavia’s hard expression softened, the edges of her anger blurring as a mischievous glint sparked in her eyes. She leaned in closer, her breath warm against Elnora’s cheek, sending a shiver down her spine. “Only if you want me to,” she whispered.

There was a reason Octavia had pulled her out of Gia’s club, and it wasn’t just for old times’ sake. Playing along with Octavia’s games might get her answers, but she wasn’t in the mood to indulge whatever twisted plans Octavia had in mind.

“I’m not here to play games with you, Octavia,” Elnora said as she pulled back slightly. “It’s simple: I don’t know the answers to your questions. A blind date led me to a club where I got auctioned off. That’s how I ended up with him.” She jerked her chin toward the screen, where Mason’s image still stared back at them. “I don’t know who he is, and I couldn’t find any information on him.”

“Then why stay with him?” Octavia pressed suspiciously.

Elnora forced a frown, giving Octavia a pointed look. “He bought me,” she replied, the words bitter on her tongue. “And, if I’m being honest, I think he’s hot. I was hoping to roll around naked with him a few times.” She grinned, her smile all teeth.

Octavia’s face twisted in disgust. “Ugh.” She released Elnora’s arm and began pacing.

Elnora watched her, her mind racing. How much did the bureau actually know about her activities as Icarus? And more importantly, how much did she need to keep hidden? It didn’t surprise her that they were in bed with the Priest; he’d had access to her work computer through Marcy, after all. Clawson, huh? So that was the maggot’s name?

“Why did you put yourself up for auction?” Octavia demanded as she stopped pacing to face Elnora. “And don’t lie to me. I have irrefutable evidence to prove it.” Her stare was unyielding. “We may be the ‘slow poke hackers’ you tagged us as, but our data is accurate.”

She shrugged, refusing to let Octavia see how much the accusation stung. “Of course you’d think that. Let me explain something, though. Outside the narrow scope of what you consider ‘accurate’ is a whole web of lies—carefully designed to make you think exactly that. Nothing is accurate any more, Octavia. It’s just data, and anyone with the right tools can manipulate it. You know this. The government takes people down with fabricated data all the time.”

“I hate how smart you can be sometimes,” Octavia whispered.

“I seem to recall you liked that about me.” Elnora allowed herself a small, satisfied smile as she caught the flush in Octavia’s cheeks.

Octavia quickly shook off the moment, her eyes hardening again. “As it stands, you did auction yourself off, and I want to know why.” She turned away, distancing herself from Elnora as if needing the space.

“Why would I do that? I didn’t even realize I was in the underground. I was nervous—it had been a while since I’d been on a blind date. The truth is, I walked past men I’ve done recon on without even noticing until he,” she pointed to Mason on the screen, “told me where we were.”

“Stop lying to me!” Octavia snapped.

Elnora sighed heavily, the frustration now seeping into her voice. “There’s no reason for me to lie. Forget everything the Priest has told you and listen to me. I wasn’t in there for more than ten minutes. You know how Table Eleven works. The auction site started streaming me right before the soldiers let me in, and before I could even sit down, he’d already bought me.”

“And you just went home with him? You’ve been there for how long now—why?”

“Are you blind?” Elnora moved closer to the screen. “Who wouldn’t want to go home with this?” She gestured toward Mason’s image. “The man is breathtaking.”

Octavia scoffed. “Cool your jets, horny,” she said, pulling out a chair and sitting down. “If you were that desperate, you could’ve called.”

“Let’s not do this,” Elnora snapped, her glare sharp enough to cut.

“Fine.” Octavia’s voice was cold. “Let’s say I believe your perfectly crafted lies—”

Now her frustration boiled over, and her voice rose in a half-scream. “Oh, good god! Then lock me up! It would be better than this miserable back-and-forth that’s going nowhere. You really need to take a moment and consider who’s feeding you all this crap and why. While you’re wasting your time on me, the real culprits are slipping away.”

Octavia’s eyes narrowed as she shifted in her chair, fingers resuming their steady dance across the keyboard. “Say I choose to believe what you’ve said,” she replied, her tone measured but sharp. “How do you explain this?”

The screen flickered, replacing Mason’s image with a series of documents. Elnora’s eyes skimmed the content quietly. The rage that followed was matched only by the sinking realization that she was being cornered.

“Explain your exact calling code on all those hacks and breaches,” Octavia continued. “Here’s my favourite.” She clicked on a file, and the screen displayed a text message Elnora had sent months ago—altered and twisted beyond recognition.

Her stomach clenched as she stared at the screen, a sickening sense of betrayal washing over her. The Priest wasn’t capable of this level of manipulation. That left one terrifying possibility: Marcy. Her best friend, the one person she’d never suspected, had been tampering with her life right under her nose.

“Where did you get this?” Elnora’s voice was low, controlled, betraying none of the storm raging inside her.

Octavia’s smile was smug, her fingers drumming on the desk. “From your incredibly helpful partner at Neon.”

“Of course.” The nonchalance in Elnora’s tone was forced, but she was careful to keep her expression unreadable. Inside, her mind was spinning, trying to piece together how she had missed something so glaring. But, if it was so easy to connect the dots to Marcy, maybe it wasn’t her.

“We have you exactly where we want you, El,” Octavia purred as she stood, crossing the room to stand beside Elnora. She leaned in, stroking Elnora’s chin with a familiarity that annoyed her now. “And considering our long-standing relationship, I’m open to cutting a deal. Whoever your boyfriend is, deliver him to us.”

Elnora eyed her. “Or?”

“You’re facing life in prison, El.” Octavia’s voice was cool, but there was satisfaction in it, as if she relished the idea of holding this power over her.

She scoffed and walked over to Octavia’s computer, her mind already racing with ways to turn this situation to her advantage. “I’ll pass on both,” she said, lowering herself into the chair and pulling the keyboard closer.

Octavia’s voice took on a warning tone. “I will not allow you to access government databases or satellites from my computer.”

Elnora shot Octavia an icy glare, her fingers hovering over the keys, itching to take control. “I’m basically doing your job for you, so you have no choice. Just leave me to my work,” she snapped, her frustration barely contained as she turned her focus back to the screen.

Someone was playing a dirty game with her, and she needed to find out who it was. The web of deceit surrounding her had grown too thick, too tangled, and she was not having it anymore. Octavia’s threats were just noise at this point, an irritating distraction from the real problem at hand. Whoever was manipulating things from the shadows was clearly underestimating her, and that was their first mistake.