The dining room had been a war zone of flavors—roasted duck drizzled with plum glaze, garlic butter potatoes so soft they melted in your mouth, and desserts that looked too perfect to eat. Now, hours later, the King family had retreated to the living room, everyone full, tired, but unwilling to call it a night just yet.Mason leaned back into the oversized couch, trying to make himself invisible. He was getting good at it—blending into the luxury he still wasn’t used to. A crackling fire lit the room, its glow softening the sharp angles of the family he was playing house with. Charlotte was perched cross-legged on the floor, a glass of wine dangling from her fingers as she scrolled through her phone. Eve sat stiff-backed beside Helena, shoulders squared as though a rogue thought might blow her cover.Helena commanded the space like she commanded everything else in her life, one leg crossed over the other, sipping her wine with the patience that came from years of making Chicago's elit

Finally, Helena replied, her tone tinged with the weight of years Mason hadn’t lived through. "When you reach my age, you'll understand." The answer wasn’t satisfying, and it wasn’t meant to be. It was the kind of deflection someone used to avoid the sharp edge of a question that cut too close to the bone. Mason felt the frustration bloom in his chest, but Helena wasn't done playing her hand."Now," she said, her voice brisk and businesslike, "Vincent. You should consider him for the general manager position at King's Industries. He's sharp, loyal as a made man, and knows the business inside and out. It's time."But Mason's mind was already running down darker alleys, circling the questions that had haunted him since Jake dropped that bomb about his identity. His thoughts kept coming back to Leo - their mirror-image faces, the fact that Helena wasn't Leo's blood. Maybe if he could track down Leo's real mother, he'd finally get some answers about the reflection that haunted his mirror