Page 149 of Mason

Then he nods once and puts it on speaker.

Dante’s voice fills the room—low, commanding, and cold as ice.

“The decision’s been made,” he says. “Isaiah Sloane dies. So does the mayor.”

No one argues.

Dante continues. “But I want Jayson Caluna to take the hit on the mayor.”

Scar lifts an eyebrow. “Caluna?”

“He’s been circling us for long enough. He wants to wear the jacket, he needs to bleed for it. He wants in—this is how he proves himself.”

Lucky snorts. “You sure he’s got the balls?”

“He’ll have them when I’m done with him,” Dante says flatly. “Give him the target. You tell him failure isn’t an option. And if he fucks it up… Mason, you clean it up.”

I nod once, sharp, even though he can’t see me.

“Gladly.”

The line goes dead.

Scar sits back again, smiling without humor.

“Well. That’s settled then.”

Kanyan picks up the drive—finally—turning it in his hand like he’s holding someone’s soul.

“I’ll make copies. Spread it to our allies. Let them know we’re cleaning house.”

“Let themwatchus do it,” Lucky mutters.

I rise from the table, blood roaring in my ears.

Because the countdown’s started.

Jayson might pull the trigger on the mayor.

But I’ll be the last thing Isaiah Sloane ever sees.

40

SHELBY

Not everything bleeds on the outside.

I’ve got bandages across my ribs. Stitches down my side. Bruises like ink blots along my arms.

All things visible. Explainable.

It’s theotherpain that’s harder to talk about.

The one that whispers to me that I’m weak now.

I’m ruined.

I’ll never be the same again.

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