Chapter 22: Chapter 22

As Mason entered Enrico De Lauro’s penthouse, his eyes swept through the lavish decor with barely concealed disdain. Enrico, lounging at the bar in his usual untied golden robe, raised an eyebrow as he poured himself a glass of rum. His expression was one of mild curiosity, though a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

“Oh my, I wasn’t expecting to see you until next Christmas,” Enrico said, taking a leisurely sip of his drink while watching him.

Mason ignored the jab and settled into one of the barstools, his mind churning with the questions that had driven him to this detested encounter. Enrico was one of the last people he ever wanted to deal with, but circumstances had forced his hand. He needed answers, and there was only one person who could give them to him—unfortunately, that person was now in the clutches of the bureau.

Elnora hadn’t left Gia’s willingly; of that, he was certain. And now she was stuck with the likes of Octavia, who was probably digging into every detail of her life, prying into her business. Mason had to get her back, not just because of the questions gnawing at him, but because she had somehow become the one thing he couldn’t get out of his head. It didn’t matter how angry or suspicious he was, he wanted to see her again, needed to see her again.

“It must be damn important, Mason,” Enrico said, leaning against the bar with that insufferable grin still in place. “What is it?”

“Do you know a Elnora Watton?” he asked.

The shock that flashed across Enrico’s face was unexpected, but it was quickly masked as he coughed and tied his robe, trying to regain his composure. His voice was gruff when he finally spoke, betraying a trace of something deeper—anger or maybe fear. “Why are you asking me about El?”

“No one should know you exist, Enrico. You’re dead, forgotten, scrubbed from every record. And yet, she’s trying to track you down. So tell me how you know her, so I can fix this.”

Enrico’s demeanour shifted as he walked around the bar, stepping closer to Mason with a seriousness that was rare for him. “Do not lay a finger on her,” he warned. “I owe all this yo her. Who do you think scrubbed me and the entire De Lauro family from existence?”

His eyes narrowed as he stood, meeting Enrico’s grey gaze head-on. “So you do know who she is.”

“I met her when I first got into programming,” Enrico admitted, a faint smile touching his lips as he recalled the memory. “We were both at a boot camp at Berkton Tech University. She’s brilliant, Mason—her beauty and talent are something else.”

The way Enrico spoke about her, with that smile, made Mason’s blood simmer. The thought of this fool getting close to Elnora was almost unbearable. He could see it now, the possibility that Elnora and Enrico had been more than just acquaintances, and it grated on him in a way he hadn’t expected.

“Are you saying she’s the contractor who made us ghosts?” Mason asked in disbelief and Enrico nodded. The irony of it was almost too much to bear. The woman who had erased the De Lauro family from existence—the reason Mason himself didn’t officially exist—was the same woman bent on finding out who he was.

“Does she know who you are?” Enrico’s question was cautious, almost fearful as he ran a hand through his short auburn hair.

“No, but ~la donna~ is obsessed with finding out,” Mason replied, tucking his hands into his pockets. “She’s relentless.”

Enrico chuckled, shaking his head. “That’s El. She can be single-minded when she sets her mind to something. Every other time, she’s pretty simple. How is she doing?”

“The bureau’s got her in custody. I don’t know what that’s about yet,” Mason replied. Richard had briefed him on everything, as had the Priest. Octavia’s stunt at l’Éclipse wasn’t a power move; it was a calculated attempt to take Elnora. She’d followed them to the Whistle Blower and used her Trump Card as leverage to pull Elnora out from under him. Richard had no choice but to honour the code of the common grounds, but that didn’t make it any easier to swallow.

Enrico’s smile faded, replaced by genuine concern. “Then what are you doing here? You have to find Elnora. Mason, we owe her everything! Nothing must happen to her!”

“I know that now,” he said. Then he regarded his step brother, searching for any sign that he might be hiding something. Could Elnora have put herself up for auction to get Enrico’s attention? Did she know about his ties to the Castelli Family?

“How would you describe your relationship with her?” Mason asked as he continued to watch Enrico carefully.

Enrico shrugged, unperturbed by his scrutiny. Then he turned away and headed for the balcony, his movements languid and unhurried. In spite of his reservations, Mason followed him out onto the balcony, which overlooked the city from fifty stories up. The view was breathtaking, but Mason’s focus remained on the man in front of him. This was the most luxurious condo in Berkton, detached from the mafia’s territory and fortified by its own private security.

“Why does that matter to you?” Enrico asked, leaning against the railing, his back to the city.

Mason was getting a little frustrated. “Answer the question, Rico. No point in wasting my time. How do you know Elnora outside of the job she did for you? I need to understand the level of exposure and how much she knew,” he demanded as he stared down his stepbrother.

Originally, Enrico De Lauro was to be the next head of the Castelli Family before Mason took the helm. But his reckless behaviour had derailed that future. He’d dabbled in the wrong drugs, spiralled out of control, and drawn unwanted attention to the family—attention that nearly destroyed them. By the time Enrico cleaned up his act, it was too late. The incident that forced him into hiding had severed all ties with the family, leaving Mason to step in and take control. It was a necessary move to protect the family business and uphold the honour of the Berkton Collective, but it left a bitter taste in Mason’s mouth every time he had to deal with Enrico.

Enrico sighed, his gaze drifting to the city skyline. “We… she was the one who got away,” he murmured, regret lacing his words. “I screwed things up with her. After she scrubbed the De Lauro family, I left to keep her safe. This is not the life I want for her, Mason. You need to protect her, keep her away from all of this.”

Mason clenched his fists, doing his best to suppress the storm brewing inside him. The thought of Elnora and Enrico together gnawed at him, a jealousy that burned hot and unbidden. What could she have possibly seen in him? Enrico was a disaster, a man who had wrecked his own life and nearly dragged the family down with him. The idea that Elnora had been drawn to that mess of a man was infuriating, but he forced himself to stay focused. Elnora was his now, even if their paths had only crossed because she was chasing ghosts from her past.

“Your past contacts are supposed to think you’re dead,” Mason growled, unable to keep the disappointment out of his voice.

Enrico’s lips curled into a smile. “El is a stubborn ~bellezza~. The only way she’d believe I was really dead is if she confirmed it herself. You’ve met her, yes?”

His eyes narrowed as he stared at Enrico. “Your name came up in her digging around. I’ve got everything I need now. I’ll handle this.” But the question that lingered was why Elnora had agreed to make Enrico a ghost in the first place. What had she gained from it, and why was she now so hell-bent on finding him?

“What?” Enrico asked, his eyes widening in disbelief. “She wouldn’t be reckless enough to slip up like that. If Elnora is trying to find me, no one would know. She’s brilliant, Mason. I guarantee she’d use a program she built herself to trace me. If my name came up, it wasn’t her doing.”

“Hmm.”

The same thought crossed his mind. Elnora was precise, meticulous even. She wouldn’t have sent an unencrypted message or left any trace of her intentions. Something else was at play here, and it wasn’t the first time that Marcy’s name had surfaced. The connection was too strong to ignore, but it complicated everything.

“How well do you know Marcy, her friend?” Mason asked, probing for more information.

“Is she still in touch with that skank?” he spat. “I’ve never liked Marcy. She’s done well in her career, sure, but her life isn’t her own. She’s one of Elias’ projects. She might care for El, but I’ve never fully trusted her. Her background… it’s tainted. But enough about that ~cagna~—what’s the plan to get El out?”

Enrico’s words confirmed his suspicions: Marcy was more than just a friend with a checkered past. She was a liability, someone with ties to dangerous people. And now, Elnora may be caught in the middle of a web she knew nothing about.

“She’ll be out soon,” Mason replied. “I’ll be on my way now. Let’s not make this a habit.”

“No. This won’t work that way. I will stay with you until I am convinced that Elnora is safe. I cannot allow anything to happen to her.”

Mason let out a dry laugh, glancing around the luxurious penthouse that screamed excess and recklessness. “There’s nothing you can do to help her, Enrico. I’ll handle it. Don’t go messing things up. If you do, and she gets hurt, I will kill you.”

A frown deepened on Enrico’s face as he searched Mason’s eyes. “You and El?” His voice carried a hint of disbelief and jealousy.

Mason didn’t answer. He turned on his heel and walked out of the penthouse, barely acknowledging the heavily armed private security guards flanking the entrance. All this firepower was more of a liability than a safeguard, drawing unnecessary attention to Enrico De Lauro’s supposedly hidden life. Enrico had always been reckless, and Mason wondered if he’d ever learn. But that wasn’t his main concern now.

As he waited for the lift, a thought occurred to him. Maybe whoever was setting El up and doing all this knew she was responsible for scrubbing the De Lauro family. He needed to get his Elnora back, to pull her out of whatever hellhole Octavia had locked her in and have an honest discussion with her. The lift chimed softly, its doors sliding open, and Mason stepped inside, exhaling a sharp breath.

~His El?~

Cristo, when had he started thinking of her like that? Had he already fallen for her? It was maddening—she had once been with Enrico, and of all the men in the world, why did it have to be his reckless, useless brother? The doors closed, and the lift began its descent. Mason reached for his phone, but then shoved it back into his pocket, knowing he couldn’t turn it on until he was far from Enrico’s overly guarded domain.

Why had Octavia abducted Elnora? This wasn’t just about his organization any more; it was personal. There was something between Elnora and Octavia, a history he didn’t fully understand but could sense was dangerous.

One thing was certain: if that bitch, Octavia, had harmed Elnora in any way, he would bring the entire bureau to its knees.