Page 98 of Mason

The conversation is one-sided, but I don’t need both sides to understand what’s happening.

The moment the name is spoken, everything changes.

The man lets out a rush of curse words, his entire body going rigid, his voice climbing from agitated to fucking furious in a matter of seconds.

“What the fuck do you mean, she belongs to Mason Ironside?”

Silence.

Then a low growl, guttural and panicked.

He turns around to look at me—really look at me—as he shoves his free hand roughly through his greasy hair.

“No, no, no. That wasn’t the fucking deal, man.”

A sharp breath. A fist slamming against the van’s dashboard in anger.

“You set us up, you motherfucker! You said this was an easy job—just grab a woman, hand her over, and get paid.” His voice wobbles, the first crack in the veneer of control he’s been holding onto. “You didn’t say who she belongs to. Mason fucking Ironside—are you out of your mind?!”

The other kidnapper—the one with the nervous twitch in his eye—suddenly stills, his entire demeanor shifting.

He knows that name.

They both do.

The man’s voice is lower now, like if he keeps it soft, keeps it contained, he can pretend like he’s still in control of this situation.

“Tell me you’re joking, man. Tell me we did not just fuck over the underboss of the Moreno family.”

Another pause.

Whatever response he gets on the other end makes him go dead silent.

The only sound in the van is the low hum of the engine, the faint hiss of air through the cracked windows.

Then—

“Fucking hell.”

The phone is snatched from his hand before he can process it, and the nervous driver demands, “Who else knows?!”

He’s shaking.

He’s fucking shaking now.

The passenger snatches the phone back, shoving a hand against the other man’s chest to keep him from losing his goddamn mind. But I see it now—the cracks spreading. The way their bodies have stiffened, their hands clenched into tight, useless fists. Their whole demeanor flipped inside out.

They’re not in control anymore.

Because Mason Ironside isn’t the kind of man you fuck with.

I knew Mason was powerful. I knew he had money, contacts, and a name that carried weight.

But this?

This is something else.

The fact that the mere mention of him has turned these men from predators into prey?—

---