Chapter 20: Chapter 20

Mason leaned back in the chair, his eyes cold as he took in the sight before him. The hacker, known as the Priest, was strung up like a carcass in a butcher shop, dangling from the ceiling of one of the Castelli Family’s more isolated ‘Farms.’ Located far out in the country, this place was off the grid, nestled on the outskirts of Berkton, and served as a convenient spot for interrogations that required discretion. The Priest was soaked, his body wracked with shivers from the relentless waterboarding Giorgio and his men had subjected him to. His breath came in ragged gasps, his face a deep, unhealthy red.

“Can’t say it’s a pleasure to meet you, Priest,” Mason said. “Tell me what I need to know.”

He shifted in his seat, casually crossing his legs as he observed the broken man before him. The Priest, still struggling against the ropes that bound him from shoulders to feet, managed a weak scoff. “If I talk, you’ll just kill me.”

Mason’s lips curled into a cold smile. “Let me be clear, Priest. You’re already dead.” He adjusted the cuff of his pants, ensuring his yellow socks were hidden from view. “But wasting my time will make your end a lot more painful.”

A flicker of fear crossed the Priest’s eyes as he swallowed hard, his body tensing against the ropes. “All I tried to do was gain access to the underground servers,” the Priest began, desperation lacing his voice. “I wanted to hack the files Icarus was auctioning. She had a trojan on your server.”

Mason’s eyes narrowed. That was his confirmation that the priest was aware of Icarus’s identity. He was certain it was Elnora, and he would get his answer here. Although, knowing El, she might have just told him if he’d asked directly.

“Do you know who Icarus is?” Mason asked.

The Priest tried to bargain, sensing an opening. “I can work for you, Mr. Dimitri. I’ve got information—valuable information—that you’d be interested in.”

“Is this the same information you offered Octavia? Or the network you stole from Icarus and sold to my associates?” He raised a finger, silencing the Priest as he opened his mouth to respond. “The minute you stepped into the Underground, you should have known you were a dead man walking.”

What truly bothered Mason wasn’t just the Priest’s audacity but the ease with which Octavia’s agents and hackers had infiltrated his common ground. His sanctuary was being compromised, and that was unacceptable.

The Priest’s voice trembled as he admitted, “The moment Elnora pinged my phone, I knew I was done.”

“You’re brighter than you look,” Mason said, standing up, his shadow looming over the helpless hacker. “Let me tell you how this will go. There will be no negotiations. No pleading. It’s a waste of time and will only aggravate me.” He signalled Giorgio, who stepped closer, his presence a dark cloud of impending violence. “If you hesitate to answer even one question, Giorgio here will make you regret it. Understood?”

The Priest, his eyes darting nervously to Giorgio, nodded with a resigned gulp.

“Good,” Mason continued. “Now, tell me how you found out who she is.”

“Marcy,” the Priest stammered “She was careless with her online activity on an encrypted chat board. She left a digital trail that I was able to follow. That’s how I got into her network. I didn’t mean to find Icarus—I just stumbled onto her footprint while tracking Marcy. From there, it was easy to use Marcy to get to Elnora.”

“How did you manage to misdirect El?” In all this, he was trying to understand the full extent of the priest’s manipulation. The recklessness of Elnora’s friend, Marcy, infuriated him. She had exposed herself, her fiancé, and Elnora to danger for what—a fleeting moment of satisfaction? It was beyond foolish, and he was starting to really not like her.

“I cloned Marcy’s devices,” the priest admitted quietly, his voice trembling. “I intercepted their conversations, ran interference. I’ve been tracking all of Marcy’s communications, hoping to catch Icarus. Her devices are locked down tight, encrypted like a wizard’s spell. I could only get in through Marcy’s phone.”

Mason’s eyes narrowed, his mind working through the implications. “But why send her to l’Éclipse of all places?” This had puzzled him from the start, and he needed to know.

The priest groaned, the sound dripping with exhaustion and fear. “I didn’t.”

Mason’s hands slid into his pockets, a gesture that belied the rising tension within him. A familiar sense of foreboding settled over him, the kind that often preceded something disastrous. If the priest hadn’t sent Elnora there, then it meant one of two things, both of which unsettled him.

“What kind of interference were you running?” Mason’s voice was edged with impatience, a dangerous undercurrent that made the priest flinch.

“I was trying to get the source codes for her secured network,” the priest confessed, his words tumbling out in a rush. “I wanted Elnora to either fix the code or discuss it with Marcy so I could pick it up. She got to the underground on her own, and she put herself up for auction too. I only got wind of the plot a little too late. I tried to convince Marcello to auction her off to me instead in exchange for fixing the bug in the network.”

The priest shuddered against the ropes. Mason felt a cold chill crawl up his spine. He glanced at Giorgio, whose narrowed eyes confirmed that he was thinking the same thing.

“I didn’t know she was in Castelli territory until later that night when she sent a message to Marcy,” the priest added, his voice cracking.

Right. Elnora had mentioned something about that, but what he knew didn’t fit with what the priest was saying. Elnora had put herself up for auction, all while pretending to be clueless about. Why had she done it? Rising to his feet, Mason watched the priest’s eyes dart around in panic.

“What do you want with her files?” Mason asked.

“She has a program I want. Not the one she’s auctioning or the network—something else.”

Mason’s jaw tightened as he signalled to Giorgio. “Sit him down,” he ordered.

Two soldiers emerged from the shadows behind Giorgio, ready to enforce his command.

“Si, boss,” they responded in unison.

With cold indifference, they sliced through the ropes, and the Priest hit the ground with a heavy thud, half crying, half groaning. One soldier grabbed him roughly by the collar, hauling him up as another pulled out a chair, shoving the battered hacker into it and securing him tightly.

“Good. Now break his arm,” Mason ordered, his voice devoid of any emotion. Giorgio, ever the sleek executioner, moved swiftly while the other men instinctively took a step back.

“No, no, I’ll tell you! I’ll tell you, please!” The Priest’s pleas came out in a desperate rush, panic saturating every word.

Mason’s gaze stayed on him. “Priest, we talked about this earlier. You hesitate or lie to me, and I punish you. Apologies are meaningless; be smarter next time. His left arm.” Mason’s eyes locked onto Giorgio’s, and with a practiced hand, Giorgio grabbed the Priest’s shoulder and snapped the arm with a brutal efficiency.

The Priest’s agonized wail echoed through the barn, the sound bouncing off the metal walls and filling the space. The bright fluorescent bulb hanging above cast harsh shadows on his contorted face. Mason, fighting to maintain his focus, returned to his seat, his thoughts threatening to drift back to Elnora. She was becoming a complication he couldn’t afford, and the effort it took to suppress the urge to storm out and confront her was wearing him thin.

In between gasping breaths, the Priest finally spoke, “Octavia wants Icarus, and she knew you had her. I went after her files because Octavia asked me to.”

Mason allowed himself a small, cold smile as he stood, signalling Giorgio with a nod. It seemed there was nothing more to learn, so he turned to leave, content that—

“I know something about Elnora that you don’t!” The Priest’s frantic shout cut through the air. “Please don’t kill me. I beg you. I’ll—”

Mason’s patience snapped. “We’ve been through this. No begging, it’s beneath you.” He moved to the Priest’s side in a flash, gripping his shattered shoulder with merciless force. The Priest screamed, his body convulsing in pain as he tried, in vain, to pull away.

“Talk!” Mason barked.

Tears streamed down the Priest’s face as he stammered, “She… she’s trying to find someone named Enrico. She thinks he’s connected to the Castelli Family. I think that’s why she auctioned herself in the underground.”

Mason’s hand released the Priest’s shoulder as the words echoed in his mind, freezing him in place. Enrico De Lauro. That name was buried deep, scrubbed away from Berkton, known only to a select few. How could she possibly know?

~Who are you, El?~

A wave of inexplicable anger surged through him as he stormed out of the room. Had she been playing him from the start? Nothing made sense—the way she had orchestrated her own auction, how she knew he would bid on her when he rarely visited the club. The pieces weren’t fitting, and it drove him mad. He needed to speak with her, to find out just how deep this deception went.

“M, there–”

Mason waved Benny off with a sharp motion. “Call Gia, now. I need Elnora here immediately.”

Benny hesitated, a rare show of uncertainty. “That was Gia on the phone, boss. We can’t find Elnora.”

A cold fury clenched Mason’s jaw. How could he have been so blind? He had allowed himself to believe there was something genuine between them, but now she was revealing her true nature.

“How in the hell did she get out of the Whistle Blower without Gia knowing?” Mason’s voice was a low growl, the fury barely contained.

“We’re looking into it,” Benny replied, his tone careful, almost subdued.

“Get the car. Now!” Mason barked, his patience shattered. As Benny hurried off to follow orders, Mason turned back to Giorgio and the Priest. Descending the steps, he saw the soldiers pulling the half-drowned man from the metal tub, his breath coming in ragged gasps, his eyes wide and bloodshot with terror.

“Untie him and get him a laptop,” Mason ordered. He lowered himself back into the chair, the leather creaking under the weight of his frustration. “You have 30 minutes to make yourself useful, or I’ll kill you myself. Understood?”

The Priest nodded frantically, his mouth too dry with fear to form words. Mason’s gaze bore into him, a storm of rage and confusion swirling beneath the surface. He couldn’t believe he had misjudged Elnora so completely. But what was her game? What was she after? Once Giorgio returned with a laptop and handed it to the priest, Mason took a breath.

“Find Elnora Watton,” Mason commanded, his voice a quiet, lethal promise.