Chapter 30: Chapter 30

The sharp ring of his phone cut through the darkness, snapping Mason out of a deep sleep. He blinked, disoriented, as the room came into focus. Beside him, Elnora stirred, her soft body instinctively curling against his chest. For a moment, he forgot the phone altogether, lost in the warmth of her touch and the memory of the night they’d spent together. Her ombre hair spilled across her face, framing the delicate curve of her waist. He couldn’t help but admire the sight, savouring the quiet intimacy of the moment.

She mumbled something in her sleep as he pulled her closer, his lips brushing her shoulder. The temptation to wake her in a more… satisfying way tempted him, but before he could act on it, she rolled away, leaving him with a lingering sense of loss. Her eyes fluttered open, and she looked at him with a smile that made his pulse quicken. But then her gaze drifted to the chair, and the incessant ringing of his phone intruded again.

With a reluctant grunt, Mason disentangled himself from the sheets and reached for his phone, picking up his slacks in the process. Antonio’s name glowed on the screen, dragging him back to reality.

“Grey,” he answered, his voice a low growl as he listened to the rushed words on the other end. “I’ll be out front in a moment.”

He shut off the phone with a flick of his thumb and made his way to the bathroom, his mind already racing. He wasn’t surprised that Akim was already demanding an explanation for his brother’s stupidity. Enrico’s reckless decision to step back into Mafia territory was bound to stir up trouble. Akim would seize the opportunity to settle old scores, and that meant one thing—Enrico’s head would be the price.

Mason splashed cold water on his face, hoping to clear his thoughts, but Elnora’s scent still clung to him. The taste of her lingered on his lips, and he cursed under his breath. He’d thought that having her would satisfy the craving, but now that he’d had a taste, he only wanted more.

“Dammit,” he muttered, stepping into the shower, the hot water doing little to douse the fire burning through him.

The sound of her voice startled him. He turned, water streaming down his face, to find Elnora standing at the open shower door, completely naked. Her gaze slid down to his growing erection, and a knowing smile tugged at the corners of her lips. His jaw clenched hard, as he fought the urge to pull her into the shower and lose himself in her again.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

Everything, he thought, but he couldn’t say it. He was caught between the chaos outside this room and the chaos she ignited within him.

“I know a sure-fire fix for that,” Elnora said, stepping into the shower with a wicked smile as she closed the door behind her.

He laughed. As soon as she was in his arms, he kissed her like she was the only thing keeping him grounded. His hands moved down her arms, feeling the shiver of goosebumps rise under his touch. She pressed him against the cool tiles, deepening the kiss, her moan vibrating against his lips as his erection nudged her belly.

He knew he should pull away, distance himself from the spell she had him under. There was a possible turf war brewing, one that he needed to address before it escalated. But with Elnora in his arms, all he could think about was how much he wanted her. The steady beat of the water and their ragged breathing filled the air as his hands roamed her body, driven by an insatiable desire.

“El,” he murmured, breaking the kiss as he tried to catch his breath. He watched her, panting slightly, the desire in her eyes making it difficult to focus. “I need to take care of some business.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be quick,” she whispered.

He chuckled and shook his head. “El, I need to handle the situation with Enrico before it spirals out of control. I’m all yours when I’m done.”

But she wasn’t listening. Her hand slid down to stroke his hardness, her fingers wrapping around him with a gentle grip. He groaned, the sensation sending a jolt of electricity through him as she began to kiss her way down his torso. Every scar she touched with her lips seemed to melt his fight, and when she took the head of his erection into her mouth, he could barely think straight. The heat of her mouth, the gentle scrape of her teeth as she withdrew—it was too much, too intense.

His muscles tensed, his pulse thundered in his ears, and when she looked up at him with that sly grin, he knew she had him right where she wanted. With a deep groan, he pulled her up to him, brushing her hair out of her face as he cupped her chin firmly.

“Elnora, as much as I would love to lose myself in you, this thing with Enrico is urgent,” he tried to reason with her.

She sighed, licking her lips in a way that nearly undid him. His eyes followed the movement, desire warring with duty. Just as she opened her mouth to speak, a sharp knock echoed from the bedroom door. The urgency in the sound sent a cold wave of dread through him. Antonio wouldn’t dare defy his orders unless it was absolutely necessary.

Mason’s jaw clenched as he turned his attention back to Elnora. “Give me a minute,” he muttered, stepping out of the shower with a reluctant sigh.

He grabbed a towel and dried off hastily, the tension knotting his muscles as he fastened it around his waist. He stalked through the bedroom to the door. The urgency in Antonio and Benny’s faces greeted him the moment he opened the door, and their awkward smiles only deepened his frown.

“M, I apologize for barging in, but we’ve got a problem,” Antonio said, adjusting the sling on his arm with a wince.

“The collective is here, boss. They’re request an audience with you,” Benny added.

“Shit,” Mason cursed under his breath, his eyes narrowing as he took in the sight of Antonio’s injured shoulder.

“It’s nothing,” Antonio dismissed, ripping off the sling as if to prove his point. “Would you like us to take them to the back house or bring them in here?”

“Where’s Enrico?” Mason asked.

“He’s two doors down, boss,” Benny said, pointing down the hall. Mason’s gaze followed the direction, his thoughts darkening. “We didn’t hear anything from you last night, so we figured it was alright.”

His jaw tightened even harder. He had let Elnora distract him, and now the consequences were knocking on his door, quite literally. This was exactly why he couldn’t afford to let her cloud his judgment; it was dangerous, not just for him, but for everyone involved. He dismissed the fleeting concern that Enrico might have heard them last night—it didn’t matter.

“Take them to the back house. I’ll be out shortly,” Mason ordered, flinging the door closed with a sharp motion and disappearing into the closet.

He dressed quickly, donning his trademark black suit, the familiar armour settling over him as he steeled himself for the confrontation ahead. As he stepped back into the bedroom, his mind raced with the implications of Akim’s arrival. This wasn’t just a problem; it was a potential disaster, one that could spiral out of control fast. And he didn’t want Elnora anywhere near the fallout.

His thoughts were interrupted as the bathroom door swung open, and Elnora stepped out in a white bathrobe, her hair damp and her smile disarming.

“Hi,” she greeted him, her tone light, almost oblivious to the storm brewing just outside that door.

Mason paused, his gaze hardening as he took her in. “You need to get dressed and be ready to leave in five minutes,” he replied.

“What’s wrong now?” she sighed her frustration.

Mason moved closer, cupping her face. “Giorgio’s waiting downstairs to take you to a safe house. Things might get messy here, and I need to know you’re out of harm’s way.”

“And you?” Her voice softened, her eyes searching his with a concern that made him bristle. It was laughable, really—the idea that she might actually care about him. No one did, not truly. Not once they knew what he was. Elnora was no different; she was just infatuated with the idea of him.

“Don’t worry about me. Just stay safe.”

She scoffed, shaking her head. “It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that Enrico showing up created a massive mess with the collective. And Joe—he’ll be coming for him too.”

“True.” Mason nodded, watching as she pieced it all together, her mind working with that sharpness that fascinated him.

“That puts you in the cross hairs, doesn’t it?” Her brows furrowed in that endearing way, and he almost smiled despite himself. “You’re the one who has to protect him, defend him. Anyone who wants his head has to go through you first.”

“I need to get on this as soon as possible, El,” he said, dodging the implication of her words as he stroked her face, trying to keep her at arm’s length even as he touched her.

“You can’t just ignore your own safety while you’re trying to protect people who don’t deserve it,” she snapped. “Who’s got your back, Mason?”

She stood there, hands on her waist, looking at him with a mixture of anger and concern that cut deeper than he wanted to admit. The question stung, and it had haunted him since his mother—his stepmother, really—had first buried a knife in his shoulder. She’d always made it clear: he wasn’t good enough to be boss, just his brother’s enforcer. Every scar he carried was a vicious reminder that she despised him, that she had raised him and tormented him to take a bullet for Enrico.

Mason had long ago accepted that painful truth, especially now, even as the boss of the Castelli family and the godfather of the Berkton collective. He’d clawed his way to the top, but the scars—both physical and emotional—still ached, still whispered that he was nothing more than a shield for his brother.

No one had his back.

Not his biological mother in Ordridge, who’d sent him away to his father and then forgotten about him. Not his half-brother Enrico, who was too reckless to be anything but a liability. No one.

The reality of his existence gnawed at him, a constant, sombre reminder of the life he had grown to despise. A life with no friends, no family, no real connections. Just power, and the endless need to maintain it.

He clenched his jaw, the bitterness settling deep in his gut. As he drew his hand away from Elnora’s face, the warmth of her skin still lingering on his fingertips, he coughed to clear his throat, forcing himself back into the role he knew all too well.

Mason pushed those thoughts away, focusing on the woman in front of him. “We’ll talk about this later,” he said, his voice a little softer but still edged with authority. “Get dressed, El. Five minutes.”

Without waiting for a response, he turned and stepped out of the bedroom, his mind already shifting to the next problem. As he marched down the hall, Antonio and Benny fell into step beside him. The unspoken understanding among them was clear—this was just another day in the life of Mason Dimitri. Another day of dealing with enemies, both inside and out.