Chapter 4 - The Shadow at the Bar
By 8:00 p.m., the reception was in full swing.
The dance floor was crowded, but Mason remained seated at Table 4 beside Maya, sipping a single glass of scotch while expertly fielding Judith’s subtle inquiries about his family background.
Maya watched him in awe. He was terrifyingly good at this. He remembered every detail she had told him in the car: her mother’s love for gardening, her father’s passing five years ago, her passion for historical architecture. He spoke about Maya with a quiet, possessive warmth that felt so real it sent shivers through her chest.
“Excuse me,” Mason whispered gently, leaning close to Maya’s ear so his warm breath brushed her skin. “I need to stepped outside for five minutes to take a quick call regarding a shipment in Vancouver.”
“Of course,” Maya nodded, her face flushing at his proximity.
As Mason walked toward the side exit, Maya decided to get a glass of sparkling water from the bar.
As she waited for the bartender, a man stepped up beside her. He was in his mid-fifties, wearing a gray suit with a subtle red lapel pin. He was staring at the doorway where Mason had just disappeared.
“Fascinating,” the man murmured, his voice laced with a thick Eastern European accent.
Maya looked over. “Pardon?”
The man turned his sharp gray eyes toward Maya, offering a polite, icy smile. “I said it is fascinating, Miss Bennett. I have tried to schedule a ten-minute meeting with Mason Reed for eighteen months regarding shipping berths in Elliott Bay. His security team threatened to throw my associate off a pier in Tacoma.”
Maya’s hands went cold around her glass. “I... I think you have him confused with someone else. Mason works in private capital.”
The man let out a soft, guttural chuckle. “Private capital? Yes, that is a very polite Seattle term for the Reed Syndicate.”
Maya froze. “The what?”
“Mr. Reed controls every major maritime transit line from Vancouver to San Francisco, my dear,” the man said softly, leaning closer. “He is not a billionaire investor who plays on Wall Street. He is the man Wall Street pays when they need problems removed from international waters.”
He looked down at the emerald ring on her finger.
“If you are truly his woman, Miss Bennett, I suggest you exercise extreme caution. Men like Mason Reed do not have girlfriends. They have assets. And enemies.”
Before Maya could speak, a broad hand settled firmly onto her waist from behind.
The air around the bar turned instantly electric.
Mason was standing behind her, his chest pressed against her back, his hand wrapping possessively around her hip. He looked down at the older man with an expression of pure, murderous rage.
“Viktor,” Mason said, his baritone voice dropping into a register that made the glasses on the bar vibrate. “You are at a private family wedding. You have three seconds to walk away before my men escort you into the Puget Sound.”
Viktor’s face paled slightly. He raised his hands in a peaceful gesture, bowed mockingly, and melted back into the crowd.
May you like
Maya turned around in Mason’s arm, her heart hammering wildly against her ribs. She looked up into his dark, dangerous eyes, her voice shaking.
“Mason... who are you?”
