Chapter 38: Chapter 38

After watching their reunion on his computer, Mason found himself heading to the lobby. He knew Elnora would have a tough time convincing Marcy that the man she’d planned to spend her life with was a con artist, a schemer who had played them both. Worse still, Marcy believed Elnora was the one plotting to tear them apart, her pain and anger redirected at the person trying to save her.

Mason’s role in this mess didn’t help matters—having Marcy picked up and beaten to within an inch of her life had been a calculated move, but one that would inevitably turn her wrath on Elnora. And when Marcy finally accepted the truth, she would blame Elnora for everything.

But none of that cut as deeply as hearing Elnora confess her love for Enrico. It was a blow that stung in ways he hadn’t expected.

Taking a deep breath, Mason headed toward the general elevator, only to be interrupted by Donni and Giorgio calling out to him.

“Stanley and his team are here, boss,” Giorgio informed him, adjusting his deep violet floral silk tie with a practiced flick.

“M, I’ve got Lorraine on the line now,” Donni added, holding up his phone.

Mason’s eyes flicked between the elevator and his lieutenants. “Bring Stanley and his team up to speed, Giorgio,” he ordered, pulling out his phone as Giorgio turned to leave. “Patch that call to me, Donni. And have Grey meet me on the twentieth floor.”

Donni nodded and moved to carry out his orders.

“Donni,” Mason called him back, a sudden thought striking him. “Find Enrico and speed up the investigation into Joe. And get Mateo and Benny to report to me immediately.”

“Si, boss.”

As the elevator doors slid open, Mason stepped inside, pressing the button for the twentieth floor. He wasn’t entirely sure why he was going there or what he intended to accomplish. If Elnora hadn’t been so consumed with worry for her friend, she might have noticed the room was bugged. But that was something he wasn’t ready to share with her just yet.

His phone buzzed as soon as he stepped out of the elevator, and he answered it while brushing off the concierge’s curious glance with a cold stare.

“Boss,” the two guards at the door greeted him, offering respectful nods as they held the door open.

“Lorraine, I need you at Eden in twenty minutes,” Mason said into the phone, cutting her off before she could respond. “It isn’t a request.” He ended the call sharply. Lorraine had been dodging his calls for weeks, and he wasn’t in the mood for her games—especially with the Russians circling like sharks. If she didn’t show, it wouldn’t be long before they made a meal of her.

As he walked into the room, he wasn’t surprised when they both turned to him. Elnora’s gaze was particularly sharp, a dagger’s edge that ignited a dark desire within him. His lips twitched into a bittersweet smile as he took in the scene.

“I thought I’d find you here,” he said, stepping forward to stand in front of the glass coffee table, his attention shifting briefly to Marcy. “I apologize that we’re meeting under such challenging circumstances, but we’re on a tightrope here. We need to know what you can tell us about Joe.”

“What are you doing?” Elnora’s voice was sharp as she closed the distance between them. “Are you seriously trying to push her to process all this quickly just to get to Joe?”

Mason didn’t flinch. “We’re short on time. The sooner we get rid of him, the sooner you and your friend can be free of us. Isn’t that what you want?”

He waited for her to respond, but a gnawing uncertainty twisted his gut. The way her eyes darted between his, that familiar flicker of thought, made him wonder if she really did want out, as she had told Marcy. Everyone left him eventually. He’d been stupid to think she might be different.

“Yes, that is what we want,” Marcy answered, her voice a cold blade slicing through his thoughts.

Elnora’s eyes narrowed as she glanced around the room, finally catching on. The subtle roll of her eyes and the shake of her head told him she’d just realized the room was bugged. She wasn’t happy about it, but he couldn’t afford to care.

“I’m not here against my will, Marcy,” Elnora said as she returned to her friend’s side. “I’m here because I want to be. You can leave when it’s safe, but you have to believe me—I’m telling you the truth.”

Mason stepped forward, his gaze locking onto Marcy’s. “Do you think the mafia would track you down and torture you over a technicality?” His tone heavy with cynicism. “Doubt us all you want, but you know El. Would she lie to you about something like this?”

Silence hung heavy in the room, Marcy’s eyes flicking between Elnora and Mason. When her gaze raked over him from head to toe, he felt a sharp pang of something close to pity—a feeling he despised. Sympathy was not something he afforded those his men roughed up.

“Who is he?” Marcy asked, her voice brittle as she tilted her head toward him.

“M.” Mason’s voice was flat as he tucked his hands into his pockets, catching the way Elnora’s gaze followed the motion. “This is my organization. El, I apologize for everything she’s gone through, but the information we had pointed to her. Your boyfriend almost auctioned El off, Marcy. He nearly kidnapped her too.”

“He’s my fiancé,” Marcy corrected, her voice trembling as she tried to cling to the word. Then, drawing a shaky breath, she looked up at Elnora, her eyes wide with disbelief. “Did he really try to sell you?” Her voice cracked as she spoke, the truth unravelling the last threads of her denial.

Elnora nodded slowly, her eyes full of an anguish that mirrored Marcy’s. “Yes,” she whispered, “he did.”

Marcy inhaled shakily, trying to swallow the lump in her throat. “I… I didn’t know,” she whispered, her voice cracking as she fought back tears. “I had no idea he was so perfect because he’d done RECON on me… on us. God, I feel so stupid now.”

Elnora sank beside her, her fingers threading gently through Marcy’s hair. “Mace, none of this was your fault. And believe me, I’m going to make sure he pays. No one hurts you and gets away with it on my watch.”

Despite the tears still glistening in her eyes, Marcy managed a weak laugh. “Aren’t you upset that he and this priest got to you through me? El, I was reckless and you could have seriously hurt because of it.”

“It wasn’t your recklessness, Mace. It was Ric who brought Joe into our lives, and I was the one who brought Ric into ours. If anyone, you should be angry with me.”

“Now you see why I never liked that jerk,” Marcy muttered. “We could have ended up as collateral damage in his screw ups.”

Elnora laughed softly and hugged her, but when Marcy winced, Elnora pulled back quickly. “Sorry. We’ll get through this, trust me.”

With a tender touch, she wiped Marcy’s tear-streaked face, and Mason, standing nearby, felt a pang of longing at the sight. The gentleness she showed her friend made him yearn for that same touch, but he turned away, forcing himself to shake off the unwelcome desire.

“M,” Marcy called, just as he was about to slip out. He turned back to see both women looking at him.

“Yes?” His voice was more clipped than he intended.

“I think I know why he’s after Ric,” Marcy said, her gaze shifting to Elnora before returning to Mason. “Joe lost his sister in a car accident six years ago. She was in the passenger seat and DOA at the hospital, but the driver—who was high on heroin—survived. He was never charged because he was a De Lauro.”

Elnora glanced at Marcy with a hint of dread in her eyes. “Now would be a good time to tell you that Ric is a De Lauro.”

Marcy’s gasp was sharp, followed by a wince as she turned too quickly toward Elnora. “Are you shitting me? They are the original old money. El, they own seven hotels and twelve judges.”

Mason couldn’t suppress a laugh. Of all the rumours swirling around the De Lauro family, this was the first time he’d heard they owned judges. Well, it wasn’t entirely unfounded. They did have a few judges and politicians on their payroll.

“Is this helpful at all, M?” Marcy asked.

“Of course. Enrico killed Joe’s sister.” Mason’s tone was flat, as if the words were just another sordid detail in the life he’d chosen. “Joe did what he did as vigilante justice against a man who was above the law.”

Elnora stared into Mason’s eyes, her gaze one of accusation and sorrow that cut through him like a blade. “Ric disappeared to wait until the statute of limitations on his crime expired, didn’t he? He must think he’s above the law to not pay for his reckless endangerment.”

“I believe the law is subjective, ~tesoro~. Justice only feels fair when it serves our interests. You have no idea what those who rule above it have had to endure to get there. If you could, you would do everything you can to be able the law. It’s a human thing.”

“The implications of subjective justice are serious. It means that fairness is malleable, twisted to fit the desires of those with power. In a society like that, true equality is nothing more than a fantasy. It’s this kind of moral flexibility that pushes people like Joe to extremes, turning him into the villain when, in reality, Ric is the true perpetrator here,” Elnora argued.

Mason’s expression darkened. “You’re assuming there’s some higher ground to be found here, El. But in our world, everyone’s hands are dirty. Joe’s, Ric’s, yours, and mine. The only difference is who’s willing to admit it and who’s foolish enough to believe they’re still clean.”

Now it all made sense—Joe’s vendetta wasn’t just a random act of violence; it was deeply personal. When he tracked down the woman who had been in the car with Enrico, he would find Joe, and this twisted cycle of revenge would come to a head.

“It sounds like you’re condoning Joe’s actions. His vigilante justice wasted four years of my life and nearly got you killed!” Marcy’s voice cut through his thoughts, sharp with accusation at Elnora. “Spin it however you want, El, but there is now excuse.”

Mason turned to her, a smile tugging at his lips, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Thank you, Marcy,” he said, his tone oddly appreciative.

“I’m sorry I don’t know more,” she replied.

“You’ve given us much more than you realize. Rest up; I’ll have the doctor come by to check on you again.”

As she glanced at Elnora, who was silently watching him, Marcy’s expression twisted into something sardonic. “Do all the people you torture get treated this nicely after?”

“Only those who mean a lot to…” Mason’s voice faltered as his gaze lingered on Elnora. “I apologize again, Marcy. Have a great stay at Eden.”

With that, he was out of the room in a flash, his mind already shifting to the next pressing matter. Antonio, Mateo, and Benny snapped to attention as they fell into step beside him, trailing him as he made his way toward the elevator.

“There’s been activity at Akim’s base,” Mateo reported, handing Mason a tablet displaying the live feeds. “We’ve set up countermeasures in case they decide to storm Eden.”

Mason’s eyes narrowed as he watched the Russians load trucks with rocket launchers and guns. They were reckless enough to storm Eden, even at the risk of killing their own boss. This was the perfect opportunity to tank their company’s stocks and buy them out.

“Set up roadblocks to funnel them into clearings away from civilians so we can deploy the drones,” Mason ordered. “Grey, send a message to the other families. Let them know their little stunt earlier has soured their standing with me. If they want to get back in my good graces, they’ll deal with the Russians they’ve incited. All business with the collective is suspended until this is resolved.”

“~Si~, boss,” Antonio replied with a grin, clearly relishing the chaos to come.

“Benny, you’re with me,” Mason continued, motioning for him to follow as Mateo and Antonio split off toward the stairs.

As Mason scrolled through his phone, Benny stepped ahead and hit the elevator’s ascend button.

“Enrico?” Mason asked, barely looking up.

“In the private residence with ~signoria~ Amelia and Gia, boss,” Benny confirmed as they entered the now-opened lift.

Mason’s thoughts now wandered to the reality of Enrico’s mess and the ripples. The incident that had fuelled Akim’s bitterness was now the catalyst for Joe’s actions—a vicious cycle of retribution that had come back to haunt them.

“Ah, boss, the commander wants to talk to you,” Benny said, breaking the silence.

Mason cast a wry glance at him. Octavia had nothing to offer him now, but the score he had to settle with her regarding Elnora lingered like a bad taste in his mouth.

As the elevator began its descent, Mason huffed, shoving both hands deep into his pockets.

“Lead the way.”