ACE
I was pissed off.
I gave Bob one task, bring the girl back to the mansion before dawn. I didn’t care how he did it. I didn’t need the details. I just needed it done right. But he failed.
One of his guys gave her a concussion. The unlucky bastard who stood before me was paying the price.
I don’t just let anyone into the family. And I had never crossed paths with the one standing in front of me. That meant only one thing—Bob brought him in. Brought someone who couldn’t follow orders. Who didn’t know the first thing about obeying the boss.
She deserved better. He deserved a bullet.
The secrets of my family stay in the family. And he wasn’t going to be part of it much longer.
“Do you know what happens to people who don’t follow orders?” I asked.
He fidgeted, eyes darting, lips trembling. No answer.
“You’re doing it again,” I said, stepping behind him. “I ask a question, you answer. I don’t repeat myself.”
“Wh-what’s the question, boss?”
I stepped around and met his eyes. “The question is: you’re out.”
His face twitched with confusion. Not my problem.
“I don’t play when it comes to my family. Obedience is non-negotiable. You lack every quality that keeps a man alive around here. You’re done. Bob will deal with you later.”
I turned to Bob, who stared out the window like none of this was his mess.
“Bob.”
He turned, just in time for my fist to collide with his jaw.
“Fuck! That was painful!” he said, staggering and clutching his face.
“It should be painful. Do you know what you just made me do?” I said, voice low and sharp. “That guy should be dead. He knows too much about this family. But his offense doesn’t warrant it. Now I’m left with a loose end.”
“I’m sorry, Ace. I didn’t know he was going to knock her out—”
“That’s not the only problem!” I snapped. “Why am I just now meeting him? You brought him in too deep, made him part of my men, without my consent. And he’s not worth it.”
“He is important, Ace. I’m not stupid—I don’t bring just anyone in.”
“Then why should I believe you?”
“I’ll prove it,” Bob insisted. “He might not meet your standard, boss, but I swear I’ll prove he’s useful.”
I stared at him for a moment, then gave a slow nod.
“Fine. But I don’t want to see him again. If he’s so damn useful, use him from the outside. Keep him out of the core. And if he ever talks—if he’s a snitch—I’ll kill you both.”
“Yes, boss.”
He turned to leave, then paused at the door.
“Your punch’s gotten stronger.”
“Of course it has. Get out of my office.”
That girl was my investment. I spent billions on her. I wasn’t about to let anyone fuck that up.
I picked up a document from my desk and scanned it. I had to head to the company soon, but first I called the doctor to check on the girl.
The Cosa Nostra was pulling too much of my attention. Meanwhile, my work at Mason Enterprise was piling up.
---HOPE
I slowly opened my eyes.
The bed beneath me was soft... too soft. Plush pillows cradled my head, and the duvet felt like clouds against my skin. This wasn’t the same room from before.
I frowned, blinking fully awake.
Then I saw him; my new master ... sitting on the other side of the room, bathed in the soft glow of a lamp.
“Hey,” I squeaked, instantly regretting it. What the hell was that? ‘Hey’?
That man could murder me and dump my body in a ditch and no one would care.
“Hey too, sleepyhead,” he said, closing his laptop. “How’s your head? I called the doctor this morning.”
My eyes widened. He called a doctor? For me? That was funny but I couldn't find the voice to laugh.
He caught my look and smirked.
“I spent billions on your head. Getting your concussion treated was just an unexpected business expense.”
There it was, the reminder.
I wasn’t a person to him. I was a purchase. A property.
“Oh. That’s more like it,” I said, masking the sting in my voice.
He stood, his presence dominating the room.
“My name’s Ace. CEO of Mason Enterprise,” he said. “Nice to finally meet properly after three encounters.”
Like I didn’t already know.
Everyone in the city knew him.
The Mason Enterprise was a multi-billion dollar conglomerate; Mason Electronics, Mason Construction, Mason Flights, Mason Hotels, Mason Motors... you name it. A dynasty that spanned generations. And he was the current king.
I always wondered what was behind the big name and finally it was finally starting to make sense, the masons ran other shady businesses behind closed doors. What's with the guns and men dressed in black in every nook and cranny of the mansion?
“My name is Hope,” I said despite being so sure that he knew that already.
He was a fine man. I looked at him as he just stood there watching me like a soccer game. He was checking to see if I would squirm under his gaze. I wasn’t going to flinch, he may have paid for me but I wasn’t going to surrender my free will that easily.
He chuckled before plastering a smirk on his beautiful lips and said, “I like Hope. That is a nice name for a fire ball like you.”
I didn’t say anything to him.
“How was it?” he asked I raised a brow at him.
“How was your race?” he said with amusement all over his face
“What?”
“I told them to let you play in the forest for a while before bringing you back to the mansion” his smirk spread across his entire face
“Damn…” I whispered. He got me so good if that was the case.
“Did you say something Hopy?”
“You’re sick,” I blotted. If he was going to kill me later too, the least I could do was say mind. He loved playing games with people.
I like games as well. I will show him that fire balls burns.
ACEThe tension between the Giordanos and the Masons could slice through steel.After the FBI seized one of their warehouses, they’d been on a warpath, accusing everyone except themselves for the fallout. They’d been sloppy—greedy even. That was their mistake. But when pride and power are on the line, logic doesn’t stand a chance.Still, they were barking at the wrong gate.And then Enzo Giordano showed up. Not in some dimly lit alley or backroom club where secrets and blood deals were usually exchanged.No.He showed up at Mason Enterprise. My office.I was reviewing reports when the elevator chimed, and the air changed. The kind of change that made even the air itself uncomfortable. My door opened without a knock, and there he was.Enzo Giordano. Tall, tailored, and reeking of entitlement and misplaced rage.“Quite the risky move,” I muttered, leaning back in my seat and fol
HOPEEverything had changed.Not just the way he looked at me—softer now, more lingering. Or the way his touch wasn’t always fire and restraint, but warmth. Real.It was everything. The silence. The eye contact. The way he stood just a little closer than before.Ace Mason, the man who didn’t bend for anyone, loosened up around me. He smirked more. Joked, even. Touched me just because.It would be delusional to think I hadn’t trapped him. And yet... the dangerous part? I felt trapped too.Not by him. But by whatever this was—between us. I kept reminding myself why I was here. What I was supposed to be doing. But each time he pulled me into his arms, whispered my name like a secret only he was allowed to keep, it got harder to remember.We stayed back for a few extra days after the gala. Days we spent getting lost in hotel sheets and between kisses. It was reckless, selfish—and addictive.By the time we landed back home, I had to
HOPEI should’ve been furious. Embarrassed. Terrified even.Instead, all I could feel was a wicked thrill humming through me.Ace had punched a mafia heir in the middle of a gala—because of me. Not business. Not strategy. Me.It wasn’t smart. It wasn’t safe. But God, it made something dangerous in me flutter.He was possessive.And I liked it.Even now, in the quiet of his suite, as the door clicked shut behind us, I could still feel the raw edge of his temper vibrating through the air. He hadn’t said a word since we left the gala, but his jaw was clenched, and his eyes burned like fire.I should’ve been thinking about the Bureau. About Evans. About the intel I’d just gathered from the women lounging around in designer gowns and bloodstained secrets. I’d worked quickly, slipping into conversations like a ghost, planting harmless questions here and there—gathering just enough to put names to whispers.But then Sa
HOPEThe clinking of silverware and soft classical music filled the extravagant dining hall. Crystal chandeliers sparkled above us like frozen fire. Every table was its own universe of whispered power plays and fake laughter.I sat beside Ace, trying to blend in. Trying to remember that I was playing a role—a carefully scripted character who didn’t have real feelings for the man beside her. Too bad my body never got the memo.Dinner had barely started when trouble arrived.He walked in like he owned the damn floor. Broad shoulders, a scar splitting one brow, and the kind of smirk that promised danger for breakfast and disaster for dessert.“Ace,” he called out smoothly as he approached our table. “Didn’t think you’d actually bring a date. She’s a knockout.”Ace’s jaw clenched, but he kept his tone even. “Salvatore. Thought they banned you from anything with table manners.”“Temporarily,” the man chuckled. “But I clean up well, don’t I
ACEThe hotel was lavish—five stars and all that jazz—but I barely noticed the gold chandeliers or the overpriced scent wafting through the corridors. My mind was wired tight with the coming gala. Not the charity part of it, of course. That was just fluff for the press. What really mattered were the faces behind the champagne flutes—the ones who ran underground networks with the elegance of politicians and the ruthlessness of warlords.Hope’s suite was directly across from mine.Of course, it was my idea. Not close enough to be suspicious. Not far enough to lose track of her.She disappeared into the room without a word, suitcase rolling behind her, and I didn’t knock. Not yet.Thirty minutes later, I made the call for her to be taken to a private styling suite downtown—somewhere discreet but equipped enough to transform her into the kind of woman this world admired and secretly feared.And maybe I wanted to see what she looked like when she wasn’t trying to blend into shadows.I got
HOPEThe morning sun crept lazily into my room as I zipped the last corner of my suitcase shut. The navy-blue dress Bee helped me pick was packed away neatly, waiting for its debut. For now, I wore something... safer—but definitely suggestive.A black crop sweater that showed just a hint of toned stomach. High-waisted jeans that hugged my curves too well. Comfortable white sneakers. Hair up in a claw clip, just messy enough to say “I didn’t try hard” when I very much did. A spritz of light floral perfume and I was ready.Not to impress Ace, of course.Just... representing the enterprise. Professionally.Okay, maybe a little to impress Ace.A few minutes later, one of his men knocked and escorted me down to the waiting black SUV that drove us straight to the Mason's private airport. The moment I stepped out and saw the sleek jet glinting in the early light, reality settled in.This was my life now. Mafia-linked charity gala in another city. Designer gowns. Secret agendas. And Ace freak