Chapter 24: Chapter 24

The black Jeep Wrangler had barely reached the main road before it was swarmed by a convoy of armoured vehicles. Mason’s team moved with military precision, surrounding the Jeep in seconds. The moment his men spotted the vehicle speeding away from the bunker, Mason knew Elnora was inside.

Stepping out of his limo, Mason walked towards the perimeter where his soldiers had the Jeep cornered. His soldiers and lieutenants stepped out from their armoured cars, guns drawn, ready to unleash hell at his command.

If Elnora hadn’t pinged Kristine’s phone with the coordinates, Mason knew it would have been nearly impossible to locate the bunker. The thought of her outmanoeuvring Octavia brought a wry smile to his lips. ~Smart girl.~ He could only imagine how she had sweet-talked or outwitted Octavia to send that message. He rounded the vehicles, stepping right up to the Jeep, his gaze locking onto hers through the windshield.

For a fleeting moment, her face lit up with a smile that sent a jolt through him, but it vanished as quickly as it had appeared. The agent beside her pressed a gun to her temple, causing Mason’s soldiers to aim their weapons at him in unison.

His eyes narrowed as he watched the agent. “We both know you’re not dumb enough to shoot her,” he said. “She’s your ticket out of here. Get out before they drag you out, you fool.”

The agent hesitated, his eyes darting between the dozens of guns aimed at him and Mason. His hand tightened around the barrel of the gun, pressing it harder against Elnora’s head. She remained frozen beside him, the tension in her body visible even from where Mason stood.

But what truly enraged Mason wasn’t the gun to her head—it was the agent’s other hand resting possessively on her shoulder. The sight of that filthy hand on her sent a surge of primal fury through him, his fingers itching to pull the trigger himself.

He took a step closer, his voice dropping to a near growl. “You’ve got five seconds to let her go before I make sure you regret the day you were born.” The agent’s eyes flicked with uncertainty, a bead of sweat rolling down his temple.

Mason’s gaze never wavered from Elnora’s face, and for a split second, everything else faded away—the men, the guns, the impending chaos. All he saw was her, and the promise he had silently made to himself: ~No one would lay a hand on her and live to tell the tale~.

“You better kill me because I won’t go back to my boss empty-handed,” he told Mason.

Mason barely registered his words, dismissing him as irrelevant. Whoever this agent was working for wouldn’t be alive much longer anyway. His thoughts were singularly focused on Elnora, the only thing that mattered at that moment. The idea of some half-rate thug threatening him with consequences was almost laughable.

“I’m glad we agree on something,” Mason replied coldly, taking measured steps towards the passenger side of the Jeep.

Elnora’s gaze locked onto his, relief, and anxiety flashing in her eyes. The agent’s panic was obvious as Mason closed in, his movements slow, deliberate, as though he had all the time in the world.

“Don’t get any closer!” the agent yelled, his gun now pointed at Mason as he reached Elnora’s door. But his hand was shaking.

Through the window, Mason offered a sinister smile, unfazed by the trembling weapon aimed at him. Elnora seized the moment, sinking her teeth into the agent’s arm with vicious force. He yelped in pain, instinctively jerking his arm back and shoving her away.

Mason acted without hesitation, yanking the door open quickly. The sudden force sent Elnora sprawling to the ground, the cuff chaining her to the door dragging her along the dirt. The agent lunged to grab her, desperation driving him, but Mason was faster. He pulled her up, steadying her in his arms, just as the agent redirected his gun at him.

A split second later, gunfire erupted from all sides. The agent’s body jerked violently as bullets tore through him, reducing him to a bloody heap. Mason shielded Elnora, cradling her face against his chest, feeling the heat of the gunfire and the life drain out of the man who had dared to touch her.

In the throes of the chaos, Mason noticed that she still had his coat draped around her, a small detail that brought a smile to his face. He tightened his hold on her as he barked out, “Get me the damn keys to this!” His voice was sharp, commanding, and the soldiers swarmed the agent’s body, frantically searching for the key.

Mason brushed a strand of hair from her face, his eyes inspecting her for any sign of injury. Aside from the cuff digging into her wrist, she appeared unharmed, but the sight of her there, vulnerable, fuelled a cold rage within him.

“You came. I didn’t expect you to,” Elnora said to him.

“What did I tell you? I will keep you safe, El, always.”

But even as he said it, a part of him bristled at the truth behind those words. He wasn’t just here out of responsibility—there was something else, something that gnawed at him, something he couldn’t quite name but knew was growing stronger with every moment he spent around her.

Elnora smirked, her bottom lip catching between her teeth as if she were on the verge of a sharp retort. But the words never came. Instead, she reached for his face, her hand trembling slightly, but the cuff around her wrist pulled her back. She winced.

Mason’s jaw clenched as he saw the bruise forming on her wrist. He gently rolled up her sleeve, his fingers grazing over the angry mark. Seeing her injury stirred up a deep, more dangerous anger in him.

Before he could react further, Benny rushed over, keys in hand, and quickly unlocked the cuff. “Signoria,” he murmured respectfully, freeing her wrist.

Elnora rubbed her wrist, a small smile of gratitude directed at Benny. “Thank you, Benny.”

Mason took her hand, ready to guide her away, but she slipped from his grasp and turned back to the Jeep. Her eyes widened in shock as they fell upon the agent’s mutilated body, blood pooling beneath him. Mason quickly pulled her away.

“El?” he called.

She barely whispered, her voice trembling. “It’s his phone… I need his phone.”

Mason signalled Benny with a curt nod, sending him back to the Jeep to retrieve the device. He then gently urged Elnora toward the waiting limo. Once she was safely inside, he turned back to his Lieutenants.

“Updates?” he asked.

Giorgio stepped forward, holding up an ID card. “Anderson Bailey, part of Octavia’s taskforce. We haven’t confirmed where he was taking her or who he’s really working for.”

The agent’s mention of a boss wasn’t about Octavia; it couldn’t be. “His phone,” he ordered, extending his hand as Benny returned. He took the device, knowing Elnora would be able to trace the agent’s true employer.

“Giorgio managed to access their database, M, but it’s already been scrubbed clean,” Mateo said.

It wasn’t surprising to him, it was standard protocol for bunkers like these. The timing of Elnora’s tip had been critical; any later, and they would have lost their edge. “Regroup at Eden tonight,” he ordered. “Leave this place spotless. Move Octavia and her team out; everyone else is dead weight.”

With that, Mason returned to the limo, sliding in beside Elnora. She looked up as he handed her the phone, her eyes searching his for answers he wasn’t sure he had.

“How are you holding up?” he asked.

Her fingers wrapped around the phone, her gaze drifting to the device as she processed everything that had just happened. He could see it all in her eyes—the fear, the uncertainty, and the underlying strength that made her who she was. It struck him, then, how much she had endured since they met, and how deeply he was drawn to her, even now, when everything was spiralling out of control.

Elnora’s fingers moved with a practiced precision as she removed the battery from the phone, her gaze fixed intently on the device. Mason watched her, captivated by the way she immersed herself in her work, blocking out the chaos that surrounded them.

“It could have been worse,” Elnora muttered. “He could have taken me to Joe.”

Mason’s brow furrowed. “Who’s Joe?”

She hesitated. “The person Anderson works… worked for.” A shiver ran through her, and she shook her head as if trying to dispel the dark thoughts. “He set everything up. I need to talk to Marcy!”

Mason took her hands in his, feeling the tremor that ran through her. Seeing her like this, shaken but strong, sparked a slow-burning anger. The ordeal she’d been through was enough for her to be done with her fascination with him, but seeing her like this—so vulnerable yet so strong—only fuelled his desire to protect her.

“Deep breaths, El,” he murmured.

He lifted a hand to her face, his thumb gently brushing her cheek. Her hazel eyes locked onto his, a spark of defiance still flickering within them despite everything. That spark was what kept him grounded, what made his skin sizzle with anger and something far more complicated. Elnora exhaled softly, the tension in her shoulders easing just a fraction.

“Talk to me,” he urged, needing to know more and understand who was who.

“Joe is Marcy’s fiancé,” she began. “He’s after En…” She caught herself, hesitating, as if realizing she was on the brink of revealing too much.

Mason noted the way she tried to rephrase, to conceal whatever it was that Joe wanted with Enrico. Marcy was tangled up in this mess, but not in the way he had thought. It was a good thing Giorgio had already picked her up hours ago. Now came the part he wasn’t sure how Elnora would take—that Marcy had a few secrets of her own, ones that had already led to a not-so-gentle interrogation by one of his enforcers.

“I need to make sure Marcy is okay,” Elnora said.

Mason arched an eyebrow, studying her quietly. “I would have thought your mum was more important?” His words were pointed, a deliberate probe into whether she knew where her mother was. Mrs. Watton had slipped past the detail he’d placed on her days after Icarus set up with him.

Elnora’s eyes flickered with something—guilt, perhaps, or worry—but she said nothing for a moment. Then she leaned back in the seat. “My mum is safe,” she said, her gaze shifting away from him. “She left the country a few days ago. I didn’t want any harm to come to her because I got involved in things I shouldn’t have. As much as I trust you, I needed to make sure she was out of the line of fire.”

Mason studied her, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I understand.”

“We should find Marcy before Joe does anything terrible to her,” she urged.

But Mason shook his head. “No, you need to rest and get your wrist checked by a doctor,” he said. “I’ll have Benny take care of Marcy’s safety.”

She sighed deeply, leaning back against the plush seat as she tucked the phone and its battery into her pocket. Mason’s eyes followed the movement, and even when her eyes closed, he couldn’t help but watch her, noting the rise and fall of her chest with each breath. The limo jerked forward, causing her eyes to snap open, and when she turned toward him, their gazes locked for a moment.

“It’s none of my business,” she began with a hesitant tone, “but I have to ask. Who are you, Mason? All the government systems couldn’t name you.”

He considered her question with a smile. Obviously his identity had come up with Octavia, and speaking of which, he still needed to know how she really knew Octavia. But there were more pressing matters to address. “What does Joe want from you?” he asked. He wasn’t deflecting, not exactly, but he needed to gather all the facts. The nagging question of why she had auctioned herself off lingered in his mind, and he suspected it had everything to do with Enrico.

She rolled her eyes, a gesture that might have annoyed him if it had come from anyone else. Instead, he found himself chuckling softly.

“I don’t know yet,” she admitted, “but it has something to do with an old client. It’s a lot of trouble to go through just to find someone. Dating and marrying Marcy? It doesn’t add up.”

“I would think you’d have done a deep dive on your friend’s fiancé,” Mason said. He knew better than to underestimate her instincts, but something didn’t sit right with him.

“He was clean,” Elnora replied, pausing as if reconsidering. “Well, at first, I didn’t because Marcy insisted it was better to get to know people organically.” She rolled her eyes again, this time at the thought of her friend’s naivety. “But I did look into him enough to make sure he wasn’t the devil.” Her fingers flicked through her hair, her brows furrowing as she tried to piece everything together.

Mason could see the wheels turning in her mind, the calculations she was making as she weighed what she knew against the unknowns.

He leaned in. “And now? Can you do a deep dive into who he really is?”

Elnora’s eyes flickered with suspicion as she turned to face forward, her silence unsettling him. He squinted, studying her profile, trying to decipher what was going on behind those guarded eyes.

“Elnora?” he called.

She snapped around, fixing him with a gaze that sent a chill through his veins. It was a look that was an unnerving blend of defiance and something that made his heart race.

“Whoa, you called me Elnora? Am I in trouble?” she asked with a naughty twinkle in her eyes.

Mason suppressed a smile, shaking his head slowly. “I know you’re hiding something. Out with it,” he said. Her eyebrows knit together as her eyes swept over his face, searching for something—perhaps a crack in his composure. “I have ways of finding out,” he added.

Her response was quick and playful. “Ooh? Cuffs and blindfolds?” She arched an eyebrow at him.

The corner of Mason’s mouth twitched into a smirk. She was deflecting, turning a serious situation into a game, and he was enjoying it.

“Don’t go starting what you can’t finish,” he growled.

“Who says I can’t?” she asked, her eyes glittering with taunt.

Mason exhaled heavily as her words slammed into him with greater force than they should have. “~Sarai la mia morte,~ El,” he sighed, the words slipping out in a reluctant admiration.

Elnora had a way of getting under his skin, of turning every confrontation into something far more exciting. She’d warned him to avoid getting burned at the beginning, yet here he was, playing with fire—and she was dragging him right into the flames with her.