Chapter 56 Realizing The Perfect Mistake

Chicago's morning sunlight painted Mason's penthouse in gold, but his mind was anywhere but heavenly. Standing before the floor-length mirror, Mason adjusted his tie for the hundredth time - a silk number in deep burgundy. The custom Tom Ford suit fit like sin itself, dark navy fabric catching light like water at midnight. "Damn thing," he muttered, fingers working the silk. Eve had picked it out. Between putting holes in people and patching them up, she had a knack for keeping him looking the part.