Chapter 34: Chapter 34

Mason

Mason watched her closely, her eyes darting between his, that cute frown creasing her brow. For a brief moment, he couldn’t read her at all. She was a closed book, something he wasn’t used to. But then, she smiled—a slow, almost disappointed smile that cut through him in a way that nothing else could.

“We need to set a few things straight right now, Mason,” she said.

She leaned forward, and he found himself instinctively backing away, straightening to his full height as she rose to face him. The wicked glint in her eyes stoked a fire inside him, and for the first time in years, he realized he had backed off.

“Am I just a piece of ass you bought at an auction, or are we partners?” she asked, folding her arms over her chest. Her tone was sharp, demanding. “Don’t get me wrong, I know exactly who you are and how we ended up here. I’m not delusional. But I need to know where we stand. Who am I to you, Mason? Just another lackey you can order around, or someone you respect because you actually recognize my worth?”

A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he held her gaze. The truth was, Elnora was neither of those things—she was something entirely different, something he didn’t fully understand yet. Everything about her set him ablaze, and he was struggling to keep his usual defences up. The thought of reminding her that he had, in fact, won her at an auction flashed through his mind, but he knew that was the worst possible joke right now.

“Which would you—”

“Let’s not do this dance, Mason. We don’t have the time, and considering I’m the only one who knows how to operate those drones, you should choose your next words carefully.” She cut him off impatiently.

The way she could shift from terrified to fearless in an instant was something that amazed him, even now. He reached out to hold her, to ground himself in her presence, but she stepped out of his reach, leaving him grasping at air.

“By my count, we have three minutes left,” she continued, “and it’s a pretty straightforward question. I get that you’re used to everything going your way, being godfather and all, but didn’t we move past that at some point?”

For once, Mason De Lauro found himself speechless. The woman standing before him wasn’t just defying him—she was challenging everything he thought he knew about control. His phone buzzed in his pocket, snapping him back to the moment. The choppers were already on-site, ready for extraction. He glanced at Elnora’s monitors, confirming the situation with a quick, practiced eye before sending a terse message out on the network. Then he turned back to her.

In that moment, as he looked at her, Mason understood that he couldn’t expect her to be like the subservient women he’d long grown bored of. El wasn’t a follower—she was a force of nature, with a mind as sharp and unyielding as a blade. He’d known that from the start, but now it was staring him in the face, making him reconsider everything.

The truth gnawed at him: he didn’t know what she wanted. Elnora could vanish with a click, disappear from his world as easily as she’d entered it. And yet, she was still here, standing beside him despite the danger, despite the chaos. Why? He had no idea. It left him feeling exposed, vulnerable in a way that was foreign to him. Could she see how alone he was? Did she realize that she was the greatest thing that had ever happened to him? That he was so damn lucky to have met her, fallen for her, and somehow—against all odds—kept her?

“I overstepped. It won’t happen again,” he finally said. Her eyes narrowed, scepticism clear in her eyes. “It’s time to go; the choppers are here.”

“So, you’re not even going to clarify what this is or try to apologize?” she asked.

“We’ll continue this conversation when we’re out of here.” He stepped closer, wanting to pull her into his arms, but she turned away, putting distance between them.

“There’s something I need to do first,” she said, heading back to her desk.

He watched her from the doorway, impatience coiling tightly in his chest. They couldn’t afford to linger, no matter how much he admired her focus, her skill. The sound of footsteps in the hall pulled him from his thoughts.

“Boss, we’re ready to take off,” Giorgio announced.

Mason glanced back at Elnora. The window for a clean escape was closing fast, and with the missiles out of play, they needed to move. When her screens finally went dark, she grabbed Akim’s phone and a small black device from her station before walking over to him.

“You can set it off whenever you want.” She handed him Akim’s phone, her expression cool, and without another word, she turned and headed for the stairs.

Mason watched her go, shaking his head in frustration. Giorgio hurried after her, already guiding her into the chopper by the time Mason stepped out of the house. She shot him an icy glare as he approached, then turned away without a word.

“We’re airborne in two minutes,” Antonio reported.

Mason nodded, but his mind was elsewhere, tangled in thoughts of the woman who had just walked away from him—again.

He looked around, eyes flitting between the two choppers hovering above and the two idling on the ground. With a heavy sigh, he gave Antonio a thumbs up for take-off. As Antonio rushed to the second chopper, Mason pulled out Akim’s phone, his mind gnawing at the memory of Elnora’s anger. It wasn’t just what he’d asked her to do; it was the way he’d barked the order, reducing her to a lackey. She had been through hell—auctioned off like property, kidnapped, nearly taken by Joe—and yet he’d treated her as though none of that mattered. What the hell was he thinking?

He marched toward the chopper and climbed in beside her. The roar of the blades faded when Giorgio slid the door shut and took the co-pilot seat.

“El,” he called out hesitantly.

She turned to him. He braced himself for the sharp retort, the cold shoulder, something that matched the fury she must have felt. But nothing came. Elnora simply stared at him, waiting to hear what he wanted. She was different, unpredictable, making everything more complicated.

“I’m curious,” she began, her tone almost conversational. “Did you really start a war with the other families for Ric?”

“Yes and no.” The nickname ‘Ric’ stung, a nagging reminder of the bond they shared—a bond that predated him. Did those feelings still linger for her? He shook the thought away, focusing on her question. “You don’t think he’s worth it?”

The question tasted bitter as he asked it. He wasn’t sure why he cared about her answer. Maybe it was because she had moved past their spat so easily, diving instead into the murky waters of his business with Enrico. And for reasons he couldn’t fully grasp, he found himself wanting to talk about it with her, even with all the warnings he’d given her before to stay out of his business. There was something about Elnora—she genuinely cared for him, with no hidden agenda, and that trust was rare in his world.

“I think it sets a bad precedent,” she said. “If Ric broke the terms of an agreement, he should pay the price. Your word is your bond in this line of work. If you break it just because you can, or for family, it sends the wrong message.”

Mason leaned back in his seat as the helicopter sped across Fletcher Lane. He knew she was right, of course. As much as Enrico was a thorn in his side, this wasn’t just about him. Akim’s insubordination had to be dealt with, too, or the whole house of cards would collapse. Nothing was ever black and white in his world.

“The only way Enrico will learn is if you let him correct his own mistakes,” she continued.

“Not this one,” he replied. “The Russians want his head, and as much as I’d rather not be involved, I brokered the deal between them.”

She held his gaze for a moment, studying him. “You made him leave?”

If only it were that simple. Enrico had to go—it was the only way to ensure the survival of their empire, their status, and, frankly, their lives. There might have been other ways to handle it back then, but Mason had wanted Enrico and Amelia De Lauro completely out of the picture, and he’d made sure it happened. The memories of what he’d done, the choices he’d made, flickered in the back of his mind, and he shoved them back into the dark corners where they belonged.

When she eventually learned the truth, the things he’d done, the lines he’d crossed—she’d run. And if by some miracle she didn’t, when she found out how he’d treated Marcy, thinking she was the mastermind behind all of this, Elnora would never look at him the same way again.

“It was the easiest way to resolve the situation. With him out of the picture, our associates would continue with our affiliations.” Mason shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant.

Elnora’s lips curved into a sly smile. “The lesser of all evils,” she said, her tone teasing but sharp.

“The alternative was being ripped apart by Akim’s alligators.” Mason mirrored her tone.

“I didn’t think you were risk-averse.” She arched a brow.

“I’m not!”

Her eyes gleamed as she watched him, enjoying the way her words pushed him, the way his frustration simmered just beneath the surface. She was toying with him, and Mason knew it. He turned away, pulling out Akim’s phone. Before Elnora, he would have pressed that button without hesitation. But now, she was in his head, throwing everything off balance. When he looked back at her, she had crossed her legs and leaned back.

“There’s a better way to handle the Russians,” she said, her tone laced with mischief. “Of course, I would share it with someone who had the guts to apologize for being a gigantic arse to his woman.”

Ah, Elnora. A woman hadn’t made his blood boil like this in a long time. The mix of frustration and desire she stirred in him was a potent cocktail he both hated and craved. The look in her eyes only fuelled the fire—she was enjoying this, pushing him to see how far she could go. His hand unclenched around the phone as he took a deep breath, trying to rein in his temper.

“You’re intentionally working my nerves, and I don’t like it,” he growled. He knew he’d screwed up, treating her like a lackey, but she was pushing her luck.

“Just making conversation,” she replied, her smile playful, almost daring.

Mason opened his mouth to respond, but the words caught in his throat. A wave of claustrophobia hit him, the cabin suddenly feeling too small, the air too thin. He glanced out the window, then at the pilot, trying to distract himself.

“How far out?” he asked Giorgio, his voice strained.

“About five minutes, boss,” Giorgio replied.

Elnora leaned closer, her voice a whisper that brushed against his skin like a cool breeze. “Looks like you’re eager to get away from me.”

He clenched his jaw, fighting the memories that threatened to overwhelm him—memories of his mother’s constant berating, the way she had twisted every word, every gesture into a weapon. Elnora didn’t know the horrors she was provoking, but the similarities were too close for comfort. His chest tightened, and he undid a few buttons on his shirt, tapping his foot anxiously on the floor.

“Mason, are you alright?” Her voice was softer now, and he heard the genuine concern in it.

Leaning back in his seat, he shut his eyes, trying to push the past back where it belonged. “I am,” he replied, though the words felt hollow.

But Elnora wasn’t someone he could brush off so easily. She leaned in, her hands cradling his face, her touch both soothing and electrifying. The worry in her eyes did what words couldn’t—it calmed him, grounded him. Her hands moved to his shoulders, stroking gently, and he felt the tension start to ease.

“You still haven’t shown me your DB4,” she whispered, her voice a balm to his frayed nerves.

A frown crossed his face as he tried to recall when he’d mentioned his restored antique. Then he smiled, her fingers running through his hair bringing back the memory of that night at l’Éclipse. Somehow, in a matter of minutes, she had both rattled him and soothed him, leaving him off-balance and strangely content.

“Boss, we are descending,” the pilot announced.

Mason cradled her waist, pulling her closer as the chopper began its descent. She snuggled against him, her warmth a welcome refuge.

“Don’t tell me you forgot how you told me about your car when we first met.” She cocked a brow, her tone teasing, but the memory of that night was clear in her eyes.

“El—” he began, but she cut him off.

“Full disclosure, Mason Dimitri: if you try to manage me, I will always push back. And since you conveniently refused to answer me, I took the opportunity to help you out.”

Her eyes told him everything she hadn’t said. She was staking her claim, drawing a line in the sand.

“You are mine, and I’ll be damned if you treat me as anything less than an equal,” she declared, her voice silky with an edge that sent a thrill through him. It had been too long since anyone had challenged him this way, and he found himself basking in it.

“I don’t deserve you,” he admitted.

“Damn right.” She patted his cheek and pulled away, taking her warmth with her as the chopper settled onto the helipad on the Garden of Eden.