Chapter 2: Identity Theft

Mason blinked, sure he'd misheard. "Excuse me?"

The woman's gaze never wavered. "Get in. Enemies mightn't wait to take a shot."

Maybe it was the shock. Maybe it was the crushing weight of having nothing left to lose. Whatever the reason, Mason found himself sliding into the plush leather seat.

The door clicked shut, sealing him into a world that smelled of expensive cologne and danger.

"Dammit!," the woman exclaimed, pulling smoothly into traffic. "We've been worried sick. Where have you been?"

Mason opened his mouth, then closed it. What the hell was happening?

The woman's eyes flicked to him in the rearview mirror. "You look like hell, Leo. Rough night?"

Leo? Mason's mind raced. This woman thought he was someone else. Someone important, by the looks of things.

He should speak up. Tell her there'd been a mistake.

But then Olivia's words echoed in his head. Worthless.

Mason straightened, squaring his shoulders. "You could say that," he replied, deepening his voice slightly. 

The woman's manicured fingers tapped an impatient rhythm on the steering wheel. "You look like shit, boss. Rough night?"

Mason swallowed hard. "You could say that."

"Hmph." Her lips quirked into a half-smile. "Well, at least you're back. Things have been going to hell without you."

As they cruised through the city, Mason's eyes darted between the woman and the unfamiliar landscape outside. He'd lived in Chicago his whole life, but this felt like entering another world. Sleek high-rises replaced familiar mom-and-pop shops. Everyone on the sidewalks wore designer labels, a far cry from his own rain-soaked T-shirt and jeans.

"The empire's in trouble, Leo," the woman said, her voice low and urgent. "Ramirez is making moves on the south side. The Italians are getting antsy about their shipments. And don't even get me started on what's happening with our friends in city hall."

Mason's mouth went dry. Empire? Shipments? What kind of mess had he stumbled into?

He gripped the door handle, ready to bolt at the next red light. But then his gaze fell on the mysterious woman's hand, gripping the gear shift. There, inked in elegant script across her knuckles, was a name: 'Eve.'

Something clicked in Mason's brain. If this woman thought he was some big-shot crime lord, maybe... maybe this was his chance. A chance to be someone else. Someone powerful. Someone who wouldn't be tossed aside like yesterday's trash.

"Right, Eve" Mason said, forcing steel into his voice. "Fill me in on everything. Don't leave out a single detail."

Eve's eyebrows shot up, but she nodded. "You got it, boss. Let's start with Ramirez. That snake's been—"

As Eve launched into a detailed report, Mason's mind raced. Names, places, dollar amounts – it was a dizzying web of information. He clung to every word, piecing together the fragments of a life he'd never lived.

The car glided to a stop in front of a towering skyscraper, its glass facade reflecting the stormy sky. 

"We're here," Eve announced, killing the engine. She turned to Mason, her gaze sharp behind her sunglasses. "You ready for this?"

Mason took a deep breath. No turning back now. "Let's do it."

They stepped out of the car, Eve's stilettos clicking against the pavement as she led the way. The doorman snapped to attention, opening the gilded entrance with a reverent, "Welcome back, Mr. King."

“Mr. King? Oh, my doppelganger's got King attached to his other name Leo." Mason mentally took note of.

The lobby was all marble and crystal, reeking of old money and power. Mason's worn sneakers squeaked against the polished floor, drawing curious glances from the well-heeled residents. He squared his shoulders, channeling every ounce of confidence he could muster.

As they entered the private elevator, Eve pressed her thumb to a biometric scanner. "Penthouse," she commanded, and they began to ascend.

Mason's stomach lurched, and not just from the rapid climb. What would he find up there? More importantly, who would be expecting the real Leo King?

Eve must have sensed his unease. She placed a hand on his arm, her touch surprisingly gentle. "Hey. You've got this. Whatever happened while you were gone... we'll figure it out. Together."

The elevator dinged, doors sliding open to reveal a sprawling penthouse. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a breathtaking view of the Chicago skyline. But Mason barely had time to take it in before a booming voice shattered the silence.

"Well, well! Look who finally decided to grace us with his presence!"

A mountain of a man lumbered towards them, all muscle and menace beneath an expensive suit. Two equally imposing figures flanked him, hands hovering near concealed weapons.

Mason's breath caught in his throat. This was it. The jig was up before it even began.

But then the big man's scowl melted into a grin. He engulfed Mason in a bone-crushing hug. "Damn good to see you, Leo! We were starting to think you'd gone and got yourself killed!"

Mason wheezed, struggling to breathe. "Good to... see you too... uh..."

"What, you forget my name while you were off playing dead?" The man released him with a bark of laughter. "It's me, Sergei! Your right-hand man, remember?"

"Right, of course." Mason managed a weak smile. "Shit man, your name’s ever grazed in my memory, just that it's been a long... day."

Sergei's eyes narrowed, taking in Mason's bedraggled appearance. "You look like you've been through hell, boss. What happened out there?"

Mason's mind raced. He needed a story, and fast. "It's... complicated. Had to lay low for a while. You know how it is."

Eve stepped in smoothly. "The important thing is, he's back now. And we've got a lot of work to do."

Sergei nodded, his jovial demeanor shifting to all business. "You're damn right about that. Come on, the others are waiting in the office."

As they made their way through the penthouse, Mason's head spun. Priceless artwork adorned the walls. A bar stocked with top-shelf liquor gleamed in the corner. This was a far cry from the cramped apartment he'd shared with Olivia.

Olivia. The name sent a fresh wave of pain through his chest. But it was quickly replaced by something else. Something darker. If she could see him now, in this palace of luxury...

They entered a study that looked like it belonged in a Bond villain's lair. A massive desk dominated the space, surrounded by leather chairs. Three men rose as Mason entered, their faces a mix of relief and wariness.

"Gentlemen," Sergei announced, "the prodigal son returns!"

Mason nodded, trying to project an aura of authority he didn't feel. "Sorry to keep you waiting. Shall we get down to business?"

For the next hour, Mason listened intently as the men – introduced as his top lieutenants – outlined the state of "his" criminal empire. Drug shipments, protection rackets, corrupt politicians... the scope of Leo King's operations was staggering.

And terrifying.

Mason's palms were slick with sweat by the time the meeting wrapped up. He'd managed to bluff his way through with noncommittal grunts and vague promises to "handle it." But he knew he was on borrowed time.

As the others filed out, Eve lingered behind. She fixed Mason with a piercing stare. "Alright, spill it. What's really going on?"

Mason's heart hammered. "What do you mean?"

Eve's lips thinned. "Cut the crap, Leo. I've known you for years. You're off your game. Hell, you barely said two words in there. So either you tell me what's going on, or I start making some calls. Your choice."

Mason sagged into the leather chair, suddenly bone-weary. He was in way over his head. Maybe it was time to come clean, consequences be damned.

But then his eyes fell on a framed photo on the desk. It showed a younger version of himself – or rather, Leo – arm-in-arm with a stunningly beautiful woman. They were both laughing, champagne flutes in hand.

In that moment, Mason made a decision that would change the course of his life forever.

He leaned forward, meeting Eve's gaze. "You're right. I haven't been entirely honest with you."

Eve's eyebrows shot up. "Go on."

Mason took a deep breath. "The truth is... I had a close call. Closer than I've ever come before. It made me realize how vulnerable we are. How easily everything we've built could come crashing down."

It wasn't entirely a lie. His world had come crashing down, just... not in the way Eve thought.

"So I went off the grid," Mason continued, the story spilling from his lips. "Erased every trace. Even... even played with the idea of walking away for good."

Eve's eyes widened. "You wouldn't."

Mason shrugged, affecting a nonchalance he didn't feel. "Like I said, it was close. Made me question everything."

"But you're back now," Eve pressed. "Why?”

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