Chapter 3 A Million Dollar Birthday

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, his bravado evaporating. What the hell had he just done? He was no crime lord. He was a contractor who could barely keep up with his Home Depot credit card payments. But as he gazed out at the glittering Chicago skyline, something stirred in his chest. A hunger he'd never known before. A thirst for power, for respect... for revenge. Mason Rivers was gone. Olivia had seen to that. But Leo King? Leo King was just getting started. He reached for the phone on the desk, his fingers hovering over the keypad. One call could end this charade. One honest conversation could send him back to his old life. Instead, Mason dialed a number he'd overheard during the meeting. "Sergei? It's me. Get the boys together. We're going to pay our friend Ramirez a little visit." As he hung up, Mason caught his reflection in the window. For a moment, he barely recognized himself. Gone was the defeated man who'd wandered the rainy streets. In his place stood someone new. Someone dangerous. Someone who would never be called worthless again. A slow smile spread across Mason's face. Let the games begin. ... Turning to the laptop already powered before him, Mason's fingers flew across the keyboard, his eyes fixed on the computer screen. The name "Ethan Langford" glared back at him, a digital reminder of his humiliation. With each click, Mason delved deeper into the life of the man who'd stolen everything from him. "Gotcha," Mason muttered. Tomorrow night, Ethan would be attending a high-stakes auction of rare minerals and unusual discoveries. And of course, Olivia would be there, playing the role of the perfect trophy wife. Mason's jaw clenched. He could picture them now – Ethan in a tailored tuxedo, Olivia draped in diamonds, both of them laughing at some inside joke. His stomach churned. The event was on the other side of the city. Far enough that his new "associates" wouldn't likely spot him. Perfect. Mason leaned back in the plush leather chair, his mind racing. The meeting with Ramirez could wait. This... this was personal. Just then, the office door swung open. Eve strode in, arms laden with folders. "Got those files you asked for, boss. Surveillance photos of our rivals, last known locations, the works." Mason nodded, hoping his expression didn't betray his confusion. "Good work." Eve's eyes narrowed as she studied him. "You feeling alright, Leo? You look a little... off." Mason forced a chuckle. "Just tired. It's been a long day." "Well, don't overdo it." Eve's tone softened slightly. "You know what tomorrow is, right?" Mason's heart skipped a beat. Had he missed something crucial? Eve rolled her eyes. "Your birthday, dummy. Don't tell me you forgot your own tradition." Birthday? Mason's mind reeled. He scrambled to piece together what Eve was talking about. "Right, of course," he said, trying to sound nonchalant. "The, uh... the thing I do every year." Eve snorted. "The 'thing'? You mean dropping a cool million like it's pocket change? Yeah, I'd call that a 'thing'." She reached into her jacket and pulled out a sleek black card. It gleamed in the low light, unmarked except for a series of numbers embossed in gold. "Your golden ticket," Eve said, placing the card on the desk. "One million dollars, ready to burn. Try not to blow it all on strippers and blow this time, yeah?" Mason's fingers twitched as he reached for the card. A million dollars. More money than he'd ever seen in his life, let alone held in his hands. And apparently, it was just a drop in the bucket of Leo King's fortune. He swallowed hard, fighting to keep his voice steady. "How much is on here, exactly?" Eve raised an eyebrow. "Seriously? Did you take a blow to the head while you were gone?" She leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Let's just say it's got more zeroes than you've got fingers and toes, boss. Now, you gonna tell me what's really going on with you?" Mason's mind raced. He was walking a tightrope, and one wrong step would send him plummeting. But as he looked at Eve – really looked at her – he saw something beyond the tough exterior. Concern. Loyalty. Maybe even... friendship? He took a deep breath. "Eve, I... I need to tell you something." Eve's posture stiffened, her hand instinctively moving towards the gun holstered at her hip. "I'm listening." Mason opened his mouth, the truth on the tip of his tongue. But then his eyes fell on the black card, and something inside him shifted. A million dollars. An invite to Chicago's most exclusive event. A chance to show Olivia exactly what she'd thrown away. The words changed shape in his mouth. "I need your help," he said instead. "There's an auction tomorrow night. Rare minerals, that sort of thing. I want to attend. Alone." Eve's brow furrowed. "The Morrison Gala? Leo, that's not our usual scene. What's the angle?" Mason leaned forward, channeling every ounce of authority he could muster. "Let's just say I've got my reasons. I need you to clear my schedule, get me the proper attire. And Eve? This stays between us. No backup, no surveillance. Just me and that card." Eve studied him for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Finally, she nodded. "Alright, boss. Your call. But if you're not back by midnight, I'm coming in guns blazing. Deal?" Mason allowed himself a small smile. "Deal." As Eve turned to leave, Mason called out, "And Eve? Thanks. For everything." She paused at the door, a flicker of surprise crossing her face. Then she smirked. "Don't go soft on me now, King. Save the sentimentality for your birthday cake." Once alone, Mason slumped in his chair, exhaling slowly. He'd bought himself some time, but the clock was ticking. Tomorrow night, he'd come face to face with Olivia and Ethan. The thought sent a shiver down his spine – equal parts dread and anticipation. He picked up the black card, turning it over in his hands. A million dollars to spend, and a whole new identity to hide behind. Mason's reflection stared back at him from the polished surface of the desk. For a moment, he barely recognized himself. The defeated contractor was gone, replaced by... something else. Someone harder. Colder. Someone who might just be able to pull this off. He pocketed the card and stood, moving to the floor-to-ceiling windows. The Chicago skyline glittered before him, a sea of lights and possibilities. Somewhere out there, Olivia was probably curled up in Ethan's arms, thinking she'd seen the last of her loser husband. Mason's lips curved into a devilish smile. Oh, how wrong she was.