The next evening, Mason adjusted his Italian silk tie, catching his reflection before a full-length mirror. The man staring back bore little resemblance to the contractor who'd stumbled through the rain just days ago. Tonight, he wore power like a second skin, wrapped in a bespoke Tom Ford tuxedo that Eve had somehow procured within hours, its price tag more than he used to make in a year.
"Looking sharp, boss," Eve said, leaning against the doorframe. "You sure you don't want backup tonight?"
Mason shook his head. "This is something I need to do alone."
Eve's eyes narrowed. "You know, a few days ago, I would've bet my life that I knew everything about you, Leo. Now? I'm not so sure."
Mason met her gaze in the mirror. "People change, Eve. Sometimes overnight."
A wry smile tugged at Eve's lips. "Yeah, well, just make sure you come back in one piece. I've gotten used to having you around."
As Mason headed for the door, Eve called out, "Oh, and Leo? Happy birthday."
He mumbled a thanks and hurried out.
"Be back on time, Leo. The whole gang will be here to celebrate..." Mason heard Eve's voice behind him.
It wasn't his birthday. It was Leo's. Leo, the man whose life he'd stolen. Leo, who probably had people who actually cared about him.
For the first time since this crazy charade began, a tendril of guilt wormed its way into Mason's heart. What if the real Leo had a family? Friends? People who were worried sick about him?
Mason pushed the thoughts aside as he slid into the waiting limo. He couldn't afford doubts. Not now.
...
The Morrison Gala's auction hall hummed with Chicago's elite, their jewelry catching the light like stars fallen to earth. Mason's fingers brushed the black card in his pocket—his weapon of choice for the evening.
Then he saw her.
Olivia stood across the room, radiant in a crimson dress that probably cost more than their old apartment's yearly rent. Her hair cascaded in perfect waves, diamonds glittering at her throat. She was laughing at something Ethan had just whispered in her ear.
The sight hit Mason as he's anger boiled. Indeed love isn't something that could easily be forgotten.
Olivia spotted him first. Her laughter died, replaced by a sneer that twisted her beautiful features. She gripped Ethan's arm, whispering something urgent. Ethan turned, his face darkening.
"Well, well," Olivia's voice dripped venom, crossing her arms over her chest, as they approached. "Look what the cat dragged in. How did you even get past security?"
Mason forced himself to smile, channeling Leo King's confidence. "Good evening, Olivia. You look... expensive."
"You shouldn't be here," she hissed, glancing around nervously. "This isn't your world. I can't believe"
"No?" Mason adjusted his cufflinks—platinum, courtesy of Leo's extensive collection."
"Bravo! You're indeed bold and shameless."
Mason balled his fists, but turned away from her. He couldn't face her, but could only silently suppress the fierce anger building in him.
Ethan stepped forward, straightening to his full height. "Listen here, you pathetic—"
"Mr. King?" A heavily accented voice cut through the tension. "Is that really you?"
Mason turned to find a stocky man with a face like weathered leather approaching. Recognition flickered—Ramirez, from Eve's surveillance photos. One of Leo's biggest rivals.
Ethan frowned. "No lord Ramirez, there must be some mistake. This is Mason Rivers, my... acquaintance's soon-to-be ex-husband."
"No, no mistake." Ramirez's dark eyes bored into Mason. "Leo King. What game are you playing, showing your face here? Among enemies?"
Mason's mind raced. One wrong word could shatter everything. He noticed Olivia's confusion, the way her eyes darted between him and Ramirez.
"Perhaps," Mason said carefully, "you've had too much champagne, Mr. Ramirez. I'm here for a simple conversation with my wife."
"Wife?" Ramirez barked a laugh. "The great Leo King, married? You expect me to believe—"
"I assure you," Ethan cut in smoothly, "this man is Mason Rivers. A nobody. I should know—I'm sleeping with his wife."
The words were meant to wound, but Mason felt oddly detached. He was too busy watching the way Ethan and Ramirez stood together. Too close for strangers. Too familiar.
"Well," Mason said, straightening his jacket, "well, I only came here to speak to my wife, but this has been enlightening. But if you'll excuse me, I have some bidding to do."
"Bidding?" Olivia laughed. "On what? The coat check tickets?"
"Oh honey, don't waste another breath on him." Ethan's voice dripped with contempt as he finished the insult Olivia couldn't bring herself to say. "People like that? They're so wrapped up in their own misery, they wouldn't know shame if it slapped them in the face." He slid his arms around Olivia's waist, resting his chin on her shoulder like he owned the space there.
His whisper carried just loud enough for others to hear, each word carefully chosen to wound. "He's not even worth the air you breathe, sweetheart. Look at him – drowning in debt, barely keeping his head above water. The nerve of him, thinking he deserves to stand in your presence, to breathe the same air as someone like you." A smirk played on his lips as everyone's head began to turn towards them, exactly the audience he'd been fishing for.
Mason turned to them, really looked hard at Olivia. The woman he'd loved for six years. The woman who'd crushed his heart beneath her designer heels. And for the first time, he saw her clearly—beautiful, yes, but hollow. A shell filled with nothing but greed and contempt.
"Goodbye, Olivia," he said softly. "I hope it was worth it."
“Now go on, run along and pay for that fancy suite you rented just to impress us,” Olivia mocked.
Mason walked away, ignoring Ramirez's suspicious glare and Ethan's smug chuckle. His fingers itched to pull out the black card, to bid hundreds of thousands just to see their jaws drop. But no—Ramirez's presence changed everything. Too much attention would be dangerous.
Besides, he realized with startling clarity, he didn't need to prove anything to them anymore.
As Mason's figure disappeared into the crowd, Ramirez rubbed his stubbled chin, his dark eyes narrowed in thought. "It's impossible," he muttered, more to himself than to Ethan. "The resemblance... it's uncanny."
Ethan raised an eyebrow. "You really think that pathetic excuse for a man could be the Leo King?"
Ramirez's weathered features twisted in confusion. "I've seen Leo King with my own eyes, dealt with him personally. That man..." He shook his head slowly. "Maybe I'm getting old, eh? Perhaps people do resemble each other in unusual ways." But the uncertainty in his voice betrayed his words.
Ramirez took a long sip of his whiskey, his eyes never leaving the spot where Mason had disappeared into the crowd.
He knew things about Leo King that would make even Chicago's most hardened criminals lose sleep. The real Leo King wasn't just another crime lord – he was the puppet master, the shadow that kept seven of Chicago's most powerful criminal empires dancing to his tune. His true identity was a secret shared by only those seven leaders, Ramirez included.
"The real Leo," Ramirez muttered, swirling his drink, "hasn't shown his face in public for years. He doesn't need to. When you control every major player in the city from the shadows, you become... untouchable." His voice dropped even lower, barely audible above the gala's symphony of clinking glasses and forced laughter. "Only seven of us have ever seen his real face. Seven who rule this city's underworld."
Ethan's smug expression faltered slightly. "Then why even suggest..."
"Because," Ramirez cut him off, his weathered face tightening, "that man moves like Leo. Speaks like him. Has that same... presence." He drained his glass, setting it down with deliberate care. "But you're right – it's impossible. The Leo King I know would never lower himself to play husband to anyone. He's married to power itself."
The older man straightened his jacket, a habit that betrayed his unease. "Still... keep an eye on your friend Mason Rivers. A man who can make me doubt, even for a moment..." He left the thought unfinished, moving away through the glittering crowd.
Mason reached his car—a sleek Aston Martin that belonged to Leo—just as his phone buzzed. Unknown number."Mr. Rivers?" A crisp, professional voice. "This is James Wheeler from Hartman & Associates. We have your divorce papers ready for signing. Would tomorrow at 9 AM suit you?"Mason's grip tightened on the phone. For a moment, rage threatened to overwhelm him—at Olivia, at Ethan, at the whole damn world that had conspired to humiliate him.Then, slowly, his fingers relaxed."Actually," he said, his voice deadly calm, "I'm afraid I'll have to decline. You see, I've recently come into some... opportunities. I think we'll need to renegotiate the terms."He hung up before the lawyer could respond.Truly, he's realized for the second time that Olivia's mind was made up over the divorce and there was no turning back.Clenching his phone tightly, a deafening roar ensued ripping up from his gut, unleashing all the fury he'd bottled up through the endless night.A wounded man's cry.Just the
Their eyes widened at the sleek black card in Mason's hand. This wasn't just any old piece of plastic - it was the mythical Platinum Pinnacle Card. Whispers rippled through the crowd: only seven of Chicago's most powerful players possessed such a thing. Smart folks started inching towards the exits, suddenly very aware they might've just ticked off someone who could squash them like bugs. The bolder ones? They leaned in, hungry for drama.Olivia's snorted, firing a disdainful look towards Mason. "Oh, please," she hissed. "Drop the act, Mason. I know you're full of hot air. You might fool everyone here, but I see right through you. You're as hollow as your promises."Mason only smiled, and nodded to the auctioneer. 'Carry on,' his eyes seemed to say.Ethan, not one to be outdone, jumped in. "Babe, I told you don't waste your breath on this loser." He smirked, puffing up like a peacock. "That card? It's as fake as his self-respect. Hell, even my family doesn't have one of those. Only
"Not so fast." Ethan's voice cut through the murmurs of the crowd. His lips curled into a cunning smile as he raised his phone. "Don't you dare think this is over."Mason froze, his hand on the door. He turned slowly, eyebrow raised. "Something else on your mind, Ethan?"Ethan's face was already red, veins popping on his forehead. "You worthless fraud! That card - it's stolen! It has to be! There's no way in hell a nobody like you could have a Platinum Pinnacle!"The crowd, which had been buzzing with whispers, fell silent. All eyes darted between Mason and Ethan, like spectators at the world's most intense tennis match. Mason's grip tightened on the velvet box containing the Aurora Borealis Diamond, his knuckles turning white. The accusation was heavy. Seemed like they've finally found the right spot to crush him.Olivia, sensing her moment, stepped forward, her crimson dress catching the light. "Oh, this is rich. First, he shows up here uninvited, and now he's committing fraud?" Her
Mason's heart skipped several beats as the cold metal pressed against his skull. Eve's familiar voice sent a chill down his spine that had nothing to do with the night air."Don't move," she growled again, "or I'll paint this parking lot with your brains."His mouth went dry. This was it—she'd figured out his deception. "Eve, what's—""Care to explain," she cut him off, her tone deadly serious, "why our birthday boy who should be at his own party with the boys chose the police station as his preferred venue?"The gun lowered, and Mason released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. She was joking. Sort of.He forced a chuckle, though his heart still raced, studying Eve's expression for any sign she knew more than she let on. "What can I say? The birthday boy was just buying himself a present before those idiotic cops got entertained about this card." He pulled out the black Platinum Pinnacle, extending it toward Eve, while being perfect maintaining his composure. "Those idiot
Mason's heart did a weird stutter-step. The video showed Olivia, clearly tipsy, ranting to reporters:"You want to know the truth about that man?" She swayed slightly, her perfect composure betraying her. "He was a big fat nothing! A nobody! I flushed six whole years down the drain with him, and what'd I get? Empty promises and jewelry that'd make a gumball machine blush!" She laughed. "And now he waltzes in with some magic black card? Please! Give me a break! I know that man better than anyone – he's just a two-bit con in a fancy monkey suit!"Mason watched, keeping his expression blank. Once upon a time, those words would've crushed the old him like a bug. But now? Now he saw something different in her eyes. Unrepentant. Sin. A total she-devil, reeling from realization that maybe, just maybe, she didn't have him all figured out after all."You good, boss?" Eve's voice was uncharacteristically gentle. "And... six years? What's she on about?"Mason's brain kicked into overdrive, spinn
Mason Rivers wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans, his heart pounding with anticipation. The sapphire bracelet nestled in its velvet box felt like it weighed a ton in his pocket. He'd scrimped and saved for months to afford it, working overtime and weekends until his hands were calloused and his back ached. But it was worth it. For Olivia, anything was worth it.He fumbled with his keys, juggling the bouquet of lilies—Olivia's favorite—and the bottle of wine he'd splurged on. The clock on his beat-up Honda read 6:47 PM. Perfect. He was early, and Olivia wouldn't be home from her yoga class for another hour. Just enough time to set up the surprise.As he climbed the stairs to their third-floor walk-up, Mason allowed himself a rare moment of pride. Sure, their apartment was small, and yeah, his contractor's salary wasn't exactly setting the world on fire. But he and Olivia had built a life together. Six years of marriage, of shared dreams and whispered promises. Tonight was going to be s
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
Mason leaned back, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Because I realized something. We're not just a crime syndicate, Eve. We're an empire. And empires don't crumble because of one close call. They adapt. They grow stronger."He stood, pacing the room as the words flowed. "We've been playing it safe for too long. It's time to expand. To take what's ours."Eve's expression shifted from suspicion to intrigue. "What exactly are you proposing?"Mason's mind raced, piecing together fragments from the earlier meeting. "Ramirez thinks he can muscle in on our territory? Let's crush him. The Italians are worried about their shipments? We'll double them. And as for our friends in city hall..." He paused, a wicked glint in his eye. "Well, let's just say it's time for some new leadership in this town."Eve stared at him for a long moment, then slowly nodded. "Now that sounds like the Leo King I know." She grinned. "Welcome back, boss."As Eve left the office, Mason sank back into the chair,