Chapter 11: Chapter 11

From the window, Elnora watched as men hauled box after box into the house, their movements brisk and efficient. The activity was constant, a steady stream of bodies and crates, but it only added to her growing sense of claustrophobia.

After a restless night and a cold shower that had done nothing to soothe her frazzled nerves, all she wanted was to clear her head with a walk. But that wasn’t happening—not in Mason’s oversized shirt or her ripped gown from the night before. And where was this so-called colleague of his? It was nearly noon, and Elnora felt like she was losing her mind waiting around in borrowed clothes like a prisoner in a gilded cage.

With a frustrated huff, she lowered herself onto the edge of the bed, her thoughts swirling in chaotic loops. This couldn’t possibly be her life—trapped with the mafia, tangled up with Mason, a man whose true identity she was still trying to piece together. The idea that it might take her more than six months to perfect the code for his private network felt like a death sentence. The pressure was immense, and her mind was running in too many directions at once. The last program had been riddled with redundant dependencies, the very reason she hadn’t dared to trade it on the deep web, and it was what had bitten the thieving Priest right where it hurt.

And then there was Marcy. Could her best friend really be behind this betrayal? The thought gnawed at her, a bitter pill she couldn’t swallow. As soon as she got her hands on a PC, she’d dig into it, turn over every stone until she uncovered the truth. But it didn’t make sense. Marcy had been the one to send her to the club, to set up the blind date that had spiralled into this nightmare. It felt like a twisted joke—except no one was laughing.

A knock on the door jolted her from her thoughts. Before she could even stand, the door swung open, revealing a tall, striking blonde woman. With voracious poise, she walked into the room. The brown leather pencil skirt and cream long-sleeve, deep V-neck top were tailored perfectly to her figure, and those nude pumps added to her dominating presence. Elnora suddenly felt self-conscious, not because of the woman’s beauty, but because of the cool, steady gaze that locked onto her with a predator’s focus.

“Wild night?” the woman asked, a mischievous smile curving her lips. Her voice was stronger than her delicate appearance suggested.

Elnora raked her fingers through her hair, feeling more dishevelled by the second. “Not the kind you’re thinking of,” she replied, her tone dry. “I suppose you’re Kristine?”

With the door flung wide open behind Kristine, Elnora could see the men lugging boxes into the room across the hall. Whatever they were preparing for, it didn’t sit well with her.

“I’ll be anything you want me to be,” Kristine said with a grin, closing the distance between them. She looked Elnora over, her gaze appraising. “I don’t recall M ever having any ladies in this property. How do you know him?”

This property? Elnora’s mind snagged on the implications. Just how many places did Mason have? The idea that this was just one of his many properties unsettled her even more. She stepped around Kristine, her curiosity piqued as she watched the activity in the hallway. Why wasn’t Mason here to introduce them? He’d mentioned that Kristine would take care of her, but he hadn’t said much else. It left her feeling exposed, vulnerable, like she was being handled instead of cared for.

As Elnora turned back to Kristine, she took in the woman’s polished appearance once more. She didn’t fit the mold of a mobster, yet here she was, clearly in Mason’s employ.

“What do you do for Mason?” Elnora asked, her tone laced with scepticism.

Kristine’s smile widened, a glint in her eyes that made Elnora uneasy. “Oh, a little of this, a little of that. I’m a fixer, darling. I make problems disappear. And right now, it looks like you’re one of those problems.”

She stiffened, trying to gauge whether Kristine was joking or dead serious. It was hard to tell.

Kristine crossed her arms over her chest, a curious pout forming on her lips as she studied Elnora. “On a first-name basis with the boss. Now I’m interested in what you do for him.”

Elnora scoffed, turning her attention back to the hallway. “And what’s going on over there?” she asked, eager to change the subject.

Kristine zipped past her, heels clicking with purpose. “Mason’s getting everything you need to set up your workspace. Shall we? I’ll walk you through all the equipment provided.”

“There was mention of a decent change of clothes,” Elnora said to her.

Kristine paused, turning back to look at her. The way her eyes flicked over Elnora’s form felt invasive, and Elnora glowered at her, not appreciating the scrutiny. “Well, you give the whole morning-after-sex look a run for its money. Had your dress ripped off in the heat of the moment, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, I’m not having this conversation.” Elnora walked out of the bedroom, not interested in trading barbs with the so-called fixer. Kristine’s chuckle followed her as she trailed behind. By the time they entered the room across the hall, the movers were gone, leaving behind a stack of brown boxes, some larger than others, lined up against the wall.

“I’ll have my team set up your desk and station as soon as you tell me where you’d like it in your study,” Kristine said, inspecting the boxes like they were presents on Christmas morning. Elnora, meanwhile, peered out of the window, taking in a part of the compound she hadn’t seen before. The place was sprawling, a fortress designed to keep people both out and in.

“In addition to five air-gapped desktops and four laptops, we also have a new wireless router you can set up specifically for your project,” Kristine continued, rattling off the list like she was reading from a catalogue. “And I’ve got the best gaming chair for you. I’ll have the workers assemble it. Is there anything else you need?”

She turned back to Kristine, a smirk playing on her lips. “Wow, what exactly does Mason think I’ll be doing with all those systems—hacking the government?”

Kristine arched an eyebrow, her eyes narrowing slightly. “At first, I thought you might be some kind of crack gamer. But now? I’m leaning more towards outlandish hacker.”

This setup was more than Elnora prepared for. The sheer scale of it all was staggering, and the implications made her stomach churn. Whatever Mason was planning, it wasn’t just about building a secure network; it was something bigger.

“I need a Faraday cage,” she said as she gestured toward the room. “With a desk in a separate room for it. It’s vital for my setup.”

Kristine stared at her, eyebrows knitting together in confusion. “What?”

Elnora huffed, frustration bubbling over. “Why didn’t he consult me on any of this? To get this network running without a hitch, every step is crucial, especially the model of the systems.” She planted her hands on her hips “Where is Mason? I need to speak with him.”

“I don’t understand. You prefer to work in a cage?” Kristine’s brows shot up in question.

“I need to speak with—”

“El.” Mason’s voice came before he stepped into the room. He took a moment to scan the setup before focusing on her. “I told you to get her a change of wardrobe,” he said to Kristine, his tone cool and controlled. “Why is she still wearing that?” Before Kristine could respond, he dismissed her with a tilt of his head. “Get that done.”

Kristine shot Elnora a quick glance before hurrying out of the room. Mason’s eyes settled back on her. “Everything to your liking?”

“No,” Elnora said, gesturing around the room. “You didn’t discuss any of this with me. I had certain specifications in mind.”

He took a moment to look around with a thoughtful expression. “Hmm,” he murmured, clearly unimpressed by her outburst. “I’ll see that they’re all changed when Kristine returns. Give the specifications to her.”

“What’s wrong with just giving them to you?” Elnora wondered. She was tired of being passed around like a task to be delegated.

Mason’s gaze sharpened, his silence stretching just long enough to unsettle her. When he finally spoke, his voice was calm, almost too calm. “El, I have a lot to deal with, which is why I have Kristine available to you. She’ll relay anything she can’t handle to me, but I highly doubt that will be necessary.”

She studied him, noting the way he seemed to trust Kristine implicitly. It irritated her, this unspoken bond they seemed to share. “This is about you not mixing work and pleasure, isn’t it?” she said, her tone more accusatory than she intended.

“The mafia doesn’t run itself, El,” Mason replied, a hint of finality in his words.

She shrugged. “Whatever helps you sleep more soundly at night.” He could spin whatever narrative he wanted, but she knew better. As a high-ranking member of the Castelli family, Mason had an army of capos and soldiers at his beck and call. The power he wielded was absolute, and the secrets he kept even more so.

Mason laughed, a low, throaty sound that only added to her irritation. “There’s no need for you to be so headstrong all the time, El. I think you and Kristine will get along well.”

“She’s stunning,” Elnora remarked, the words slipping out before she could stop them.

“She is,” Mason agreed, his tone casual. “Brilliant too.” He added with a knowing smile, “You’re fishing.”

She scoffed, rolling her eyes to mask the unease gnawing at her. “I just said she’s beautiful, that’s all.”

Mason’s grin widened, playful but with an edge that kept her on guard. “I could put in a word for you with her, you know, since you’re smitten.”

She shook her head, refusing to take the bait. She wasn’t about to let him distract her from what really mattered. “I need to set up a Faraday cage to enclose a central air-gapped system, so the program will be secure. It requires a room with no networks or electronics.”

Mason’s eyes gleamed with interest, but his tone remained light, almost teasing. “Tell your girlfriend what you need when she returns, and we’ll work it out.”

Before she could respond, Mason’s hand slid around her waist, drawing her closer with an ease that sent a shiver up her spine. His touch was warm, almost too warm, and despite the alarm bells ringing in her head, she forced herself to stay composed.

“Is there anything else I can help you with, El?” His voice dropped to a low murmur, the kind that lingered just beneath the surface, brushing against her ear like a secret he was almost willing to share.

The intensity in his eyes was impossible to ignore, a pull too strong to resist. What was he really offering? Help—or something far more complicated?

“I’m starving,” she murmured, the words slipping out before she could think better of them.

“Food or…?” Mason arched a brow, a knowing smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. Elnora laughed, but it was a brittle sound, more a defence mechanism than genuine amusement.

She attempted to wiggle free from his grip, but it was useless; he pulled her even closer, his hold firm, possessive. “Mason, unless you want me to pass out from hunger, you should probably take care of that.”

His thumb traced the outline of her lips, and they parted slightly under his gaze. It was a look that burned, that promised things she wasn’t sure she wanted, or could handle.

“I don’t understand you at all,” she confessed. “You tell me you can’t mix business and pleasure, and yet here you are. What do you want, Mason? Am I just a game to you?” The memory of how he’d acquired her, like some commodity, flared up, igniting her anger.

His gaze searched hers, and for a moment, the playful façade dropped, replaced by something darker, more calculating. He loosened his grip on her waist, and Elnora took a step back, her anger rising, though she knew it was as much at herself as it was at him.

“You were right. This should be strictly business,” Elnora said, her tone clipped, as if by declaring it, she could enforce it.

Mason’s eyes lit up, a predatory gleam that unsettled her even as it fascinated her. “Why the change of heart?” he asked, his gaze narrowing in a way that reminded her too much of the way he’d looked at her in the limo the night before—hungry, calculating, dangerous.

“Does it matter? Now we’re on the same page,” Elnora shrugged, trying to sound indifferent.

“I reserve the right to change your mind,” Mason said, his voice soft but carrying an undercurrent of something more—something that hinted at the lengths he might go to if he wanted to.

“That would be a waste of your time, Mason. I’m a very difficult woman to sway,” Elnora shot back in a sharp tone, even though she knew how close she was to treading dangerous ground. “And let’s be honest, you only want me to change my mind now because you’re an egotist with a god complex. When I wanted you, I fed your ego. Now that I don’t, you’re interested.”

She was terrified of what he could do: of who he truly was. But she knew her value; he wouldn’t harm her, not when he needed her skills. Still, her throat tightened as she met his fiery gaze.

He stepped closer, narrowing the already small space between them. His eyes, vivid and green, locked onto hers, pupils dilating with a predatory vibrancy that sent a shiver down her spine.

“Fair enough,” he said, his voice low and dangerously calm. “You, ~belle~, are certainly a worthy challenge, and the thrill of conquering you will be absolute.”

She feigned a smile, refusing to let him see how his words affected her. Then she licked her lips, trying to mask her anxiety. “Well, good luck with that,” she said. “But right now, I’ve got to eat.”

Her stomach rumbled as if on cue, a reminder of the physical needs that had taken a back seat to the mental chess game they’d been playing. Without waiting for a response, she turned on her heels and walked out of the room, leaving Mason behind.

She could feel his eyes on her as she walked away, his attention pressing down on her with every step. But she didn’t look back. She couldn’t afford to. Mason Dmitri was many things—dangerous, calculating, relentless—but she wouldn’t become one of his conquests. Not without a fight.

In fact, she would make Mason, the don of the Castelli Mafia, fall for her.